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"I used to rule the world; seas would rise when I gave the word,
Now in the morning I sleep alone; sweep the streets I used to own."
~Coldplay, "Viva la Vida"
Chapter Ninety-four: Codex
Green light illuminated the shooting range. Plasma bolts shot down toward the old-school mutons crudely drawn on alloy targets, awaiting in a neat line like infantry from the 18th century.
"Shit." Sylvie scowled as her shot went wide…again. "I've never been very good at this."
"You won't always have your amp." Dragunova reached out to adjust Sylvie's elbow. "You need more practice."
"I need a better scope." Scowling, the psi-op leaned over to put her eye to the standard-issue one on her rifle.
"A crutch." Dragunova had learned to shoot on bare iron, and she'd never whined about it. "Work harder, don't complain."
"You're a real ray of joy, aren't you?" Sylvie hit the trigger again, sending green plasma-light searing towards the targets.
"Well done." Mox nodded from her other side.
"Well done? She missed. Again." Dragunova scoffed.
"But it was a much closer miss. She would have landed it on a bigger target."
"Bigger than a muton? You mean like a sectopod?" Dragunova fished out a cigarette. "Again."
"I'm not stopping now." Sylvie glanced between the two of them. "And you don't need to mother me."
"Someone has to." Dragunova patted through her pockets, hunting for her lighter. "Volk's coming aboard anytime now, which means we're going to be setting up for the attack on the Hunter."
"And?" Sylvie extended her gun, which was nice. Dragunova pressed the end of her cigarette to the steaming emitter cells.
"And you need to be ready to fight. What if you're called up?"
"We should be going after Julie." Sylvie returned her attention to the range. "She's out there still, alone. Taking out the Hunter won't bring her back."
"No." Mox, the natural devil's advocate, shrugged. "But it will advance the crusade against the Elders."
"Screw the Elders. I want to get married." Sylvie fired again, with predictable results.
"The war goes on. We can't abandon everything for the sake of one." But still, Dragunova sighed. "We don't have any leads to chase. If we knew where she was, I'd be the first one in the Skyranger. As it stands, what else can we do? Maybe killing the Hunter will take some pressure off of her."
"And it will avenge what happened with Jane." Mox's lips thinned. "Her body yet lives, but her soul did not return to this ship." Perhaps as unwilling to pursue that topic as anyone else was to engage with it, he did shift focus. "But I agree with Outrider. If we had a location for Julie, the Hunter can wait. One of our own is more important."
Sylvie eyed the range in silence, gripping her rifle tightly. "Thank you both."
"Always." Mox smiled.
"Quit stalling." Dragunova blew smoke in the psi-op's direction. "Hit it this time, Disciple Richard, or I'll hit you."
"I need a better scope–"
The elevator hissed open. Dragunova spared it a glance.
"Sylvie, I've been looking for you." Bradford hurried out, turning a tablet around to show…coordinates. A map of the Aegean. "We've got a signal. It's her."
Jane wheeled through the crew quarters, the tray she'd taken from the mess hall settled firmly on her lap while she rolled herself past the lounge table and on toward the access doors to the various soldiers' quarters.
Aileen waved tentatively from the far side. Jane ignored her, wheeling on for safety.
Her fellow soldiers' eyes bored into her the whole way.
Purgatory. She'd never understood the concept before, but this sure as hell had to be it.
She hit the access button to her quarters, rolling in and laying her tray on her bedside table. Her old sword and shard cannon hung on the wall, like macabre reminders of a dead woman, and Jane couldn't help but glare.
Aileen doesn't know any better. It was the most charitable thought Jane could muster. She thinks she can help with a few honeyed words and an offer to fetch tea. There's no helping me. She's wasting her time trying. It would be crueler to give her hope.
She rolled her chair up beside the bed, pausing as a shout echoed through the quarters: a call to attention. That meant Bradford was paying a visit, most likely. More people gawking and pitying, Lovely.
She hadn't closed the door. No matter, her datapad could accomplish the task from her bed just as easily. Jane tossed the little thing onto her mattress, gauging the distance she had to travel. Once she was settled, she'd eat–if it would stay down was another matter–and maybe try to sleep a bit more. What else was there to do? Shooting practice, weightlifting in the GTS, even sim-time in the Training Center…those were a mix of useless and insulting. Wastes of time at best, reminders of all she'd lost at worst.
No. Jane put one hand on the bed, hoisting herself up on her arms to make the shift with her useless legs trailing under her. That Jane Kelly is dead, and all that's left is this broken shell–
She hadn't activated her brakes.
The chair rolled out from under her, depositing Jane on the floor with a harsh cry and thump of metal and bone. The wheelchair slammed into the open doorway, upending on its side just within the room's confines, Jane barely snatching her hand away in time to avoid getting whacked. She clutched her head, shock and fury roiling through her system.
A shape appeared in the door, framed by the lights from outside.
"Get the fuck out!" Jane waved in harsh dismissal, reaching up to seize the end of her bed. Aileen must have gotten the message, because no hands caught her, no arms pulled her up–none save her own as she fought, fought with everything she had to claw her way up hand over hand.
But the door did close with a soft hiss: the only mercy she'd been afforded in weeks.
She made it to her knees. With a cry of exertion and another twisting pull, she got her torso onto the bed, rolling over to yank her legs after her. She gasped for breath, sweat running down her forehead.
Her wheelchair thumped softly as it was set back upright.
Jane pulled herself upright. She glared. Glared at…not at Aileen.
At Edward Gallant, leaning on his cane just inside her door.
"What do you want?" Jane scowled.
"To help." He watched from above, blue eyes full of…of…
"Bastard." Jane nearly spat. "Don't you pity me."
"I don't."
"Yes, you do! You all do!" Jane leveled her finger like a rifle, as if she could visit damnation with a gesture. "None of you understand!"
Silence.
"No." Gallant bowed his head. "I suppose I don't."
"Ah…" Jane's eyes drifted to his cane, and his shaking grip on it. Her fire flickered, its fuel cut abruptly. "I…I'm sorry."
"No." Gallant took one, then two steps, leaning heavily on that cane. He flicked the brake on Jane's chair, then leaned hard on his support to ease himself down into her seat. "They don't understand. And thank God for that."
"I don't wish pain on them." Jane couldn't meet his eyes.
"No. But they don't understand, and with any luck, they never will." No, that wasn't pity in his eyes. Was it understanding? How was Jane to know?
"Why?" She could barely force the question out at a whisper. "I should be dead. Why do I still exist?"
Shadow crept over Gallant's face. "I've asked myself the same question for a long time now. I don't have an answer for you."
"Cameron and Liang had a life ahead of them." A tear trickled down Jane's cheek. "At least one of them deserved this life more than me."
"You think I can't say the same? I led a dozen Rangers into death in Iraq. What right did I, the one who led them to it, have to not face my fate?" Gallant sighed. "Instead, I get to linger in purgatory. I should have died then, and I should have died when the base fell. Instead, here we are."
"I never–"
"Understood?" Gallant shot her a wry smile. "No one ever does, do they?"
"I…" Jane looked down. "I killed Kang."
"And I killed your friends." Gallant rested both hands on his cane, guilt hanging harshly off his eyes and hollow cheeks. "We can both carry Elias, Barta, Anne, and the rest too. Neither of us is innocent."
"Why?" This time, the question was different. "I attacked you. I ran out on you. I'm a traitor." She winced. "I literally turned against you."
"You were turned against me. You had no choice."
Jane swallowed. "Just like you."
"Maybe. Who knows?" Gallant shrugged, open and almost helpless.
Jane leaned back against the wall. She rubbed at her face, wiping away tears.
"I can't…" She nodded to her legs. "You know what I miss the most? Little motions with my foot. Tapping it, curling my toes, or pointing them."
"I used to ride bicycles." Gallant chuckled softly, mirthlessly. "Whenever I was lost, confused, hurt–I took a ride. More than one setback, more than one breakup, I worked through it on a trail. I had some friends, and we rode together. Always talked about motorcycles, but they could never talk me into actually getting one."
"I'm sorry." Before, Jane might have asked where he was going. But now she knew.
"They sent me cards in the hospital. They invited me to a D&D game. Hell, they talked about video game days, movies, TV show marathons." Those shadows, all too familiar now to Jane's heart, cast over his face again. "Handouts."
"Pity." For once, they spoke the same tongue. "Wasting their lives."
"On a cripple." Gallant sighed. "I drove them away, Jane, just like I drove every goddamn person who'd put up with me for five minutes away." He pushed hard on his cane, propelling himself onto his feet with a great deal of grunting and gasping.
Envy burned in Jane's heart anyway.
"You were one of the first people who changed that pattern." Gallant plucked her tray from her bedside, pushing it into her hands. "You and I, we've always been more alike than different. We're the same, but we don't have to turn out the same way. You have the chance to learn from my mistakes. Don't drive your own friends away. Let them help as best they can, because if you don't, you'll wallow in this forever. Like I would have without you." He put his free hand on her shoulder, squeezing tightly. "I don't know what your future looks like, Jane Kelly. But I swear, you are not going to drive me out of it. I will never abandon you, even if you want me to."
"I'm dead weight." She scoffed quietly. "We both know Tygan lied to me."
"Yeah. He did."
"I'll never fight again." Jane lay her head back against the wall. "I'm useless to you, sir. Edward."
"Fuck off with your own pity, woman." Gallant hefted his cane, whacking her sharply across the knees. "These didn't make you who you are. This did." He poked the cane sharply into her chest. "And as long as that beats, you're still the best soldier on this ship. I expect you to start acting like it."
"Sir…" What was there to say?
"We have a mission briefing in the Ring in two hours. Be there, Major." Gallant gave her a crisp nod. "That's an order."
He swept out of her room without giving her the chance to respond.
"Welcome aboard." Meysam sketched a quick salute to the ensemble climbing Avenger's aft ramp from the shadows of darkness outside. "Central and the Commander's greetings."
"And mine to you, son." Volk had brought two Reapers, masked and cloaked, to man his flanks. He spared a glance for the Skyranger nestled in the hangar's midst. "She's a beauty."
"Hardly my work, sir. The credit goes to Firebrand." Meysam nodded to the pilot, seated on the edge of her drop bay with a book in hand. Lilah waved without looking up.
"Ah, yes." Volk clearly knew what had happened, but just as clearly wasn't going to stick his nose where it didn't belong. "Well, let me also convey my congratulations, Captain Saleh."
"And mine." Betos wasn't long in the Reaper leader's wake, three of her own Skirmishers keeping a perimeter around her as she ascended the ramp. "I have heard of your exploits. Or did you not duel the Vox Prima in the Caribbean?"
"Yeah, I'm the dummy in question." Meysam shrugged…and also winced. "I have the scar to prove it. Scars, plural."
"Still a good show. You'll get him next time, son." Volk glanced back to where the final attendees of this conference climbed the ramp. "Geist."
"Konstantine." The Templar had come alone, unique among his peers. He doffed his boxy helmet, inclining his head to Meysam and then to Firebrand. "Soldiers."
"Welcome, sir." Meysam saluted him too, and then Betos because he'd forgotten earlier. "Ma'am. The Commander asks that you await him in the Resistance Ring. He has a report from Doctor Tygan and Chief Shen to oversee, and then he'll be along."
"If the two of them are cooking something up together, it'll be worth the wait." Volk nodded. "We know the way, Captain. Thank you for greeting us."
"Sir." Meysam saluted the others as they pressed on, even weird old Geist with his perpetual sneer. The combined Resistance leadership party moved through the hangar at a brisk walk, pausing to greet the other soldiers scattered around, but never lingering.
"Hell of a group." Meysam stepped up beside Franz as soon as he'd been left behind by the Council.
"Indeed." The German spared Meysam a look. "They are dangerous people, but they are our dangerous people. I am glad to have them aboard."
"Don't be so chipper about that." Charlotte appeared from the side, fresh off her own meeting. "Last time they were all here was the Battle of the Avenger."
"Thanks, Charley." Meysam scowled. "Congratulations, you cursed us."
"It's just history."
"Well, if mutons start falling through the air vents, I'm throwing you at them." Meysam shook his head. "Come on. Let's get some dinner before we wind up deployed–or do any of you think they're just here to sample the cuisine?"
"No." Franz fell into step with him, Charlotte trailing. "They are here to discuss a strike on the Hunter's sanctum."
"That's what I thought." Meysam ground his teeth. "That son of a bitch needs to die."
"Damn right." Charlotte cracked her knuckles. "He's been a bigger pain than his brother, hasn't he? And that's no low bar to clear."
"He killed Mariah." Sure, it had looked like a mercy kill, but Meysam wasn't going to let it slide either way. "Not to mention Cameron and Liang, or his traps that got Anne, Barta, and Elias." Or Nui and Kang, but that was a little raw to just be throwing around.
"We'll get him, Meysam." Charlotte heard it anyway. "He'll die alone and in pain, suffering like he made so many others suffer."
"Indeed, killing a Chosen is something we cannot pass up." Franz hesitated. "But what of Julie Richardson, no? She's out there somewhere."
"And we have no idea where. We don't have to choose one or the other. The Hunter has to die, and Julie's out of our reach for now." But what if he had to choose? That was a painful one.
I like Julie. Everyone did. And she's one of ours. But if the choice is one soldier's life, or removing an entire Chosen from the war forever…it'll hurt, but is that really a choice?
"Let's just get some food." Meysam hit the elevator button first, turning to eye his companions. "And get ready for war."
Electronic feedback echoed through the SHADOW Chamber.
"Holy shit, what the hell is that?" All thoughts of Jane drove out of Commander Gallant's head in a heartbeat. He rubbed his temple, swearing a few more times under his breath.
In that exact moment, Tygan hit a button on his console. Amidst the wires and terminals of the SHADOW Chamber, the reconstituted codex hanging in suspension let out what Gallant could only describe as a shriek, the noise ringing off the enclosed space so hard he had to clutch his ears.
Lily Shen watched with something between horror and disgust gleaming in her narrowed eyes.
"Commander." She spared him a sidelong glance. "We're making progress piecing this…thing back together." Misgivings shone in her face, deep and dark. "But it hasn't been pretty."
"Our soldiers completely disabled this unit in the field. What we are hearing is merely the byproduct of electrical impulses." Tygan spared her and Gallant a look, then returned to his console, unable to keep his eyes from darting to Shen. "I assure you, it is well past the point of feeling pain."
Shen winced as Tygan hit another icon, sending the codex into another fit of spasms and shrieks. "I'll take your word for it, doctor."
"Yeah." Gallant wasn't sure he believed it either, but he also wasn't sure he cared. This was the enemy, after all, and the Geneva Convention went out the window when Geneva got razed by battleships and seeded with Lost. "How's progress?"
"We are pulling sequences of data for decryption one at a time, to ensure nothing is missed." Tygan worked his terminal, leaving the thought unfinished.
"Find anything?" Gallant turned to Shen.
"No." She still seemed discomforted at best. "Not yet. Just a lot of stuff we already knew: black sites, the Forge, the works."
"I am sending a new sequence now." Tygan pressed a few more buttons. Data streamed between terminals, lights flickering and text flowing across screens.
"So, did you call me down here to watch you work or to tell me what you found?" Gallant blew air through his teeth, mind flicking back to Jane. "I have a lot of other balls in the air right now–"
"These are…coordinates!" Shen leaned over her terminal intently, and Gallant shut the hell up while he was ahead. "Return coordinates!" She pulled up a map feed. "I think we've got a point of origin." She coughed. "I mean, well. Part of one."
"That's not all. There's…something else." Tygan leaned closer to his own display, frowning. "Something buried underneath. One moment." He tapped a large circular button.
Electronic feedback burst through the chamber. Gallant covered his ears again as the codex hanging in suspension gurgled and growled, shocks and sparks flying left and right off its form.
"I don't think it liked that." He glanced at Tygan. "Are you sure about this?"
"The unit is attempting to block further access–"
"That's not all its doing!" Shen's eyes widened as red warning lights erupted on her end of the Chamber. "I'm losing the data we've already decrypted!"
"What?" Gallant gaped. "You mean to tell me you hooked that thing in two ways?"
"It was the only way to–"
"Almost there." Tygan breezed right over Shen, voice calm even as sparks flew from all sides. "Just one more adjustment."
"Are you crazy?" Gallant swore as a terminal shorted, the Chamber's lights flickering in a disco show.
"Forget the data!" Shen's voice frayed. "It's accessing the power core! Overriding my safeties! Increasing power levels to–"
"Tygan, sever the fucking connection!' Gallant reached for the doctor's shoulder, stumping forward as the SHADOW Chamber nearly exploded around him. "Tygan!"
"There." He hit one more button.
The codex exploded. Golden light flew through the SHADOW Chamber, glass shattering as the containment cell disintegrated into fragments. Gallant tackled Tygan to the ground, Shen covering her head and ducking behind a panel.
The lights went out.
One moment, Meysam and his friends were walking the halls.
The next, darkness fell, eternal and absolute.
"What the hell?" Meysam grabbed for the Shadowkeeper at his side, pulling the weapon from its holster. "Charley?"
"I'm here." She put a hand on Meysam's shoulder: the only real sensation in the pitch blackness of the frigid ship's empty halls. "Franz?"
"Ja." A faint glimmer appeared to provide just a bit of light: his monocle, revealing one eye and the contours of his upper face. "What is this?"
"Charley, you idiot. You cursed us." Meysam brought his pistol up, taking the formation's lead as he aimed aimlessly into the darkness. His heart beat in a frenzy, his mouth now dry and panic searing through his veins like acid and flame. "They're back–"
A crash sounded from ahead. Meysam stumbled forward, his companions in tow.
They burst through the opening into the mess hall, black shadows their only greeting.
"The wall compartments!" That was Fatima's voice. "There should be a flare, or a flashlight, something!"
"Major?" Meysam squinted through the darkness. "Is that you?"
"Saleh!" Oh, joy. Volk. Footsteps echoed on all sides. Where was everyone? "What's happening?"
"I don't know–" Meysam broke off as he caught a flicker of movement in the dark. "You, stop!"
"Who?" Betos' voice now, crossing over with a dozen more.
"It's got to be the Chosen. They're here for us!" Panic suffused Yue Liang's voice, and metal ground in the darkness. What had she done?
"Everyone!" Aileen let out a sudden curse in tune with a heavy metal thump. "Everyone calm the fuck down–"
"What if there's a faceless?" Janet's voice broke over the confusion, cracking with the strain.
Oh, fuck. Meysam swallowed.
"Drop the gun!" Janet again. Was she talking to him? Was she pointing something?
"How about you drop it?" Aileen's voice came accompanied by the sound of a knife coming out of its sheath. "There's a good way to test for faceless–"
Someone caught Meysam's arm. He twisted, yelping as his bad side was slammed into metal. Pain wracked his body, shooting to the tips of his fingers, and he twisted the Shadowkeeper around to keep it from his assailant's grasp.
In the darkness, a single detonation echoed.
Author's Note 94: The Dark of the Night
The scene between Jane and Gallant is actually a revised version of one I wrote for one of my more professional writing projects way back when. I keep trying to revamp that story into something new with all the skills I now possess, but I don't think it'll ever happen. I've written it over and over so many times that there's no real point anymore.
But on a more specific note, Jane and Gallant really are mirror images of each other. Some of you will probably have already caught on to this, but almost every major step of either of their lives is reflected in the other. This occurs in major ways, like the dialogue in this chapter directly addresses, but their duality also shows up more subtly. One of my favorite examples is how Moira and David both die on the same day, and both Gallant and Jane are completely unable to do anything about it, even be there with them. It gets even more subtle in construction, but you get the point–I've been actively mirroring the pair for almost as long as this fic has been airing.
Until next time, Vigilo Confido.