Chapter 13: Ill Tidings

Dawn had found the morning cold and gloomy when it reached Green Earth's capital, little able to contest the chill brought on by the impending winter. As light began to seep back into the sky after another night, the urban landscape glinted with dew and shivered beneath its shroud of mist. It had been three days since Blue Moon launched its invasion of Orange Star, and as yet there was no sign in the capital that the world had changed. The city had awoken in the early hours just as it always did, and life continued much as it had before. To most, the war's outbreak was only a distant concern, if it even registered at all. A faraway problem for other countries to resolve on their own soil. Even in light of Green Earth's newly reaffirmed alliance with Orange Star, most people considered the invasion to be merely one more chapter in a long and bitter rivalry. It was regrettable – tragic, even – but the overwhelming mood was that ultimately, it was a war that did not and should not involve Green Earth.

The war did not seem distant to Drake as he entered one of the city's many steel and glass towers. It had been on his mind ever since the news first broke, and he could not shake the feeling that it was all eerily familiar. He pulled his hands out from his coat pockets as he came to a security checkpoint, rubbing them together to ward off the cold. Beneath his blue coat, it was obvious that his shirt was not quite large enough to cover his round belly. Strict formality was not a quality Drake had ever been known for. Nor was he one to let the world dampen his spirits, no matter how bleak things might appear, and he made sure to smile warmly at everyone he passed. As he strolled through the open atrium on the building's ground floor, he even began to sing to himself.

"Blow ye winds of the morning! Blow ye winds hi ho!"

Two office workers in uniform walked by him with nothing more than a pair of polite nods. Drake's singing voice was a familiar presence around Green Earth's military headquarters, but it was rarely a welcome one. Enthusiasm could only do so much to compensate for an uneven pitch.

"Blow ye winds of the morning! Blow my love to me!"

Drake stopped singing after he passed the two officers, more because he had forgotten the next line than out of respect for anyone else's ears. He settled instead for humming the tune to himself as he continued down a hallway, the glass walls giving way to solid metal as he moved into a subterranean part of the building.

The headquarters was built into a hill, and from outside had the appearance of a glass sail emerging from the earth. To an outside observer, it looked no different from any of the other ultramodern towers that dotted the capital. The building's fragile exterior was deceptive, however. While the upper floors were filled by office space, below ground level a reinforced complex burrowed deep beneath the surface, housing control rooms, command systems and other more sensitive areas. Green Earth's old military headquarters had been badly damaged in the Second Great War, and in the year after, the government had accelerated its plans for a state of the art replacement. The result was a command centre that was the envy of the entire world. Its innermost sections doubled as a series of bunkers that could be completely sealed off from within, becoming nigh impervious to external threat. It was a fortress in which Green Earth's senior military staff could survive virtually any disaster, and coordinate aid to the outside world as best they could.

The extreme security of the building was the last thing on Drake's mind as he descended down a wide staircase, moving ever deeper into the bowels of the earth. The air tasted different down here, stale and filtered, and the sounds of distant conversations soon subsided, replaced by the steady hum of machinery. It was an environment Drake was still getting used to. He would have much preferred to work outside, somewhere he could feel the sun on his skin and smell salt on the breeze, but his duties as one of Green Earth's senior commanders rarely allowed him such indulgences.

Drake reached the bottom of the stairs and emerged into a solid concrete corridor. It had no turns, and led only to a reinforced metal door flanked by two guards in heavy greatcoats.

"Morning, Commander," one guard greeted him as he approached.

"Morning," Drake answered with a smile. "Anyone else below decks yet?"

"Commanders Jess, Angel, and Matt are all in, sir."

Drake's eyebrows raised in mild surprise. "All three of them? Doesn't anyone find time to sleep any more?"

That got a small laugh out of the guard. "I couldn't tell you, sir."

A round plate at the centre of the door gave a hiss and began to rotate as the internal lock was released, triggered by Drake's approach. A dull rumble soon reverberated from inside the thick walls. After several seconds the door began to slide upwards, a row of massive metal teeth visible at its base. Once it was fully open Drake walked over the boundary and continued to the end of the concrete corridor, where he went through a plain black door and into another world.

Green Earth's central command centre was a large, circular hall occupied primarily by a ring of grey desks. The room's lighting was soft, and its atmosphere dark; the command centre was lit as much by a vast array of computer monitors as it was by the strips of warm bulbs mounted on the ceiling. The walls were finished with false wood panelling, the pattern broken only by a series of black metal doors leading to other parts of the facility, and a row of three giant screens almost as tall as the room itself. The scene was completed by an elegant conference table sitting in the middle of the hall, surrounded by a set of expensive black leather chairs. It was a facility built not just for efficiency, but for comfort, and it had soon become a second home to Green Earth's COs.

"I see this ship's already crewed," Drake exclaimed as he stepped inside the hall.

Several pairs of eyes turned to face him. Most soon returned to their work, but those belonging to a tall woman with short cropped red hair instead rolled skyward.

"You're late again," she said with a toss of her head.

"Seems you're early, rather," Drake shot back with a grin. "I'm starting to think you never leave this place, Jess."

Jess gave a knowing smile and turned back to her work. "Well, with Eagle away someone has to pick up the slack around here."

Drake wandered over to where Jess sat in the outer ring, working at one of the desks. "So how goes the work? Smooth sailing or choppy waters?"

"A bit of both," Jess replied. "I've been drawing up contingency plans in the event this war between Blue Moon and Orange Star spills over into our territory. Eagle's gotten us into this mess, and now we all have to deal with it."

Drake waved his hand in an airy fashion. "And the Chancellor and parliament have backed him. We're taking a strong stance against Black Hole. Where do you think the money for this fancy new berth came from?"

"I'm not much for politics," Jess muttered, still partly focused on what she was doing. "I just deal with what's in front of me, and deal with it well."

"Careful, Jess," Drake said in a wry voice. "Keep up that talk and Eagle won't be the only one around here with a head in the clouds."

She snorted. "Please. That man's ego is so big it needs its own pair of goggles. I don't think a healthy bit of confidence puts me on the same level."

Drake pursed his lips as he considered that. Confidence was nothing new to Jess; for as long as Drake had known her, she had been sure of herself and her abilities. It was only since the end of the last war that he had noticed a shift in her attitude. Ever since she returned from Omega Land, Jess had seemed more assertive, more aggressively confident, and Drake wasn't entirely sure the change was for the better. It was difficult to appreciate the danger posed by one's limitations if you could no longer recognise they were there.

Still, he thought, Jess had a valid point. Eagle was far worse in that regard, and no great harm had ever come of it. Besides, during the last two wars Jess had performed remarkable feats as a commander. It was only natural that her attitude reflected her accomplishments. Drake's expression relaxed as he decided that conclusion was satisfactory. Jess had more than earned the right to give herself a few laurels.

"How bad is it?" He asked, lowering his voice. "The invasion, that is. What are the latest tidings?"

"The truth?" Jess leaned back in her chair and took the opportunity to stretch her arms. "It's bad. It's been seventy two hours since Blue Moon started this war, and the available evidence suggests they've made virtually no progress."

"And that evidence is reliable?"

"The intelligence Orange Star's shared with us corroborates what our own sources are saying," Jess said. "Blue Moon has thrown everything they can spare into the invasion. For now, the defences are holding, and Blue Moon's taking heavy casualties, but there's no sign they're going to let up any time soon."

"Better than them overrunning Orange Star, I suppose," Drake remarked in a resigned tone. "What's your take on the situation?"

Jess straightened up again and clasped her hands together. Any levity she had expressed whilst bantering with Drake was gone now, replaced by professional dispassion. It was a reassuring sight. Jess was gifted with a keen intellect, and she had always excelled at analysing information. If there was one person who Drake trusted to make sense of the war, it was Jess.

"Strategically speaking, things are at a stalemate. Blue Moon's initial assaults have failed, and the only real advantage they have is superior numbers. Orange Star's troops are better equipped, better prepared, and better motivated, but they need to keep large reserves back in case of further Black Hole attacks." Jess paused and took a short breath. "I'd expect Blue Moon to pull back and regroup, then launch a more focused assault now that they've got a better idea what they're dealing with. What happens next will depend on how those offensive actions play out."

Drake sighed. "I suppose it's too much to hope Olaf might reconsider all this, now that things aren't going his way."

"I'm afraid so," Jess said. "This isn't some border skirmish or local dispute. For all Olaf's talk about justice and reclaiming territory, it's hard to see how this ends with anything less than the total conquest of Orange Star… or a complete rout of the Blue Moon military."

Drake's expression was grim as he considered that. "That's certainly what everyone seems to think. And whatever happens, it only weakens both countries just as Black Hole's surfacing again. It all seems a bit too convenient to me."

Jess nodded in agreement. "Like I said, it's bad. There is one bit of good news, however."

"Oh?"

Jess took note of Drake's hopeful expression and offered an apologetic look. "Don't get too excited," she said. "Simply put, most experts on Blue Moon believe that the majority of their combat capable forces are now committed to this invasion. Some are speculating that they're actually overstretched."

Drake frowned. "I don't see how that's good news."

"It's not," Jess admitted. "But it does suggest that Blue Moon's capacity to open a second front with us is limited, if not nonexistent."

"And I suppose that's a possibility that we have to consider now," Drake said.

He lifted a hand and began to rub his eyes. Truth be told, it was not an entirely unexpected development. Relations between Blue Moon and Green Earth had always been built on trade and mutual benefit rather than any real common ground. They had rarely been outright hostile; the only armed conflict between them in the last thirty years had been a handful of border disputes several decades ago, but their relationship had never managed to grow beyond lukewarm in the years since. At least, not until the outbreak of the Second Great War. Shared suffering and a common enemy had united the world in a way that no one had dreamt was possible, and soon after, the formation of the Allied Nations had changed everything. A year ago, the prospect of war between them would have been unthinkable, but that accord was well and truly dead. The world had changed, and there was no sense in pretending otherwise.

"While we're on the subject," Jess said, "you should probably see this. It was broadcast last night on Blue Moon's state television channel."

Jess turned back to her computer and began navigating through a series of menus. Drake watched while she opened a video player and pulled up a recent file. Jess set the video to full screen, and they found themselves confronted by a slightly pixelated image of Olaf. The leader of Blue Moon was seated at the head of a long table and dressed in a formal uniform, an array of gleaming medals lurking beneath his great brown beard. By the look of it he was in the middle of some sort of speech or meeting. Now there's a man who's seen better days, Drake thought to himself. Despite the fine accoutrements he wore, Olaf looked distinctly haggard and weary, and there were dark rings under his beady eyes.

With a final click Jess hit play, and the image sprang to life.

"I, for one, welcome this announcement from our foes," Olaf said, every bit as gruff as Drake remembered. "Now is the time for courage and bold deeds, a time when we will see who among our friends are true and who, like those addled fools in Green Earth, wish to throw their lot in with Orange Star!"

Drake couldn't help but wince.

"This treacherous pact of theirs, this new Allied Nations, changes nothing. I promise you that Blue Moon will be restored to glory, and any who stand against us shall be met with our full fury!"

The video reached its end and Olaf froze again, finger raised to emphasise his point.

"That was Blue Moon's response to the announcement of our alliance with Orange Star," Jess added.

"So I gathered," Drake said. "Olaf doesn't seem too happy, does he?"

Jess shook her head. "You really do have a gift for understatement, you know that? It was practically a declaration of war." Her tone turned serious. "I've put our forces on high alert along the border, and I've got most of our intelligence division watching Blue Moon's troop movements. If they do try anything, we'll be ready."

"And in the meantime, Black Hole's free to move unnoticed in the shadows," Drake observed. "A bit too convenient indeed."

"I agree," Jess said. "Unfortunately, there's not much we can do about it."

"Hmm." Drake considered that for a moment, feeling suddenly rather tired despite the early hour. "I think I need a cup of coffee to lift my spirits."

Jess smiled. "I could use a break as well. Come on." She got to her feet. "There should still be some in the last pot."

Together the two of them walked around the outer ring of desks and went through one of the black doors. The hallway on the other side was plain concrete with metal pipes running along the ceiling, and the constant hum of machinery reverberated through the air. The main hub of Green Earth's command centre might have been comfortably furnished, but the rest of the complex was strictly utilitarian.

Drake and Jess made their way down the corridor until they came to a large, well kept kitchen – or, as Drake preferred to call it, the galley. The underground complex was equipped with a full suite of living quarters and amenities in addition to the military facilities, including a vast stockpile of food and other supplies. In the event the command centre needed to be sealed off from the outside world, those within could survive on their own for years. One peripheral benefit of this was that there was always an ample supply of coffee; a related drawback was that its quality was mediocre at best.

"Now there's a sight for sore eyes," Drake said as he saw a large pot of coffee sitting on the bench. He moved across the kitchen and began to pour out two cups.

"You might want to add a few spoons of sugar," Jess advised him.

"Why's that?"

"Matt made that pot." Jess said. "He might be capable when it comes to coastal operations, but his coffee is terrible. Trust me."

Drake knew better than to question Jess, and so he made sure to add two spoons of sugar to both mugs of coffee. Jess' cup he left black, the way she liked it, while for himself he added a measure of milk. The liquid was warm but not hot, and Drake did not hesitate to take a large swig from the mug. He closed his eyes as it went down, allowing himself the simple pleasure of enjoying his cup of coffee. It was important to enjoy the little things in life, especially in times like these. There would be plenty of opportunity to fret about their troubles later.

He was still savouring the warmth of the coffee when he heard the distinctive click of high heels on the concrete floor. Drake opened his eyes in time to see a slender waif of a woman appear at the doorway, her golden hair pulled back in a ponytail. She was peeking around the corner into the kitchen with a smile that was almost a smirk, holding something behind her back like a child keeping a secret.

"Commander Jess?" She asked, her voice high and melodic.

Jess' gaze locked onto the new arrival, her expression neutral. "Is there something I can help you with, Angel?"

"No ma'am, it's just that this came for you." Angel held out a thick yellow envelope. "I thought it might be urgent, that's all."

"I see." Jess set her coffee down on the table and accepted the envelope. "Thanks for bringing this to me."

Angel beamed a wide smile at her. "Of course." She turned to leave, giving Drake a respectful nod as she did. "Sir."

With that Angel was gone, leaving them with only the delivery and the sound of her receding footsteps. Jess did not speak again until the distinctive beat of Angel's high heels had faded entirely, her expression hard as stone.

"What do you make of her?" Jess asked.

A look of mild surprise came over Drake. "Who, Angel?"

Jess gave a curt nod and picked up her coffee again.

"She seems to be fitting in well enough around here," Drake said, "and I haven't found any fault with her work. I'd say our Angel's got the makings of a fine CO."

Jess grunted. "I'm not so sure."

"Why's that?"

"She's too… eager to please. She acts like a schoolchild, as if she's more concerned with getting a good grade than anything else. I'm not convinced she understands the seriousness of her new position, and frankly, I'm not sure she's fit for it."

"Well, that certainly is frank," Drake remarked, considering Jess' assessment. "Eagle has nothing but praise for her, and you know how high his standards are."

Jess snorted and glanced away. "I'm not convinced Eagle's judgement is sound in this case."

Drake did not reply. Instead he lifted his mug and took another large gulp of coffee. He wasn't prepared to admit it, but on that point, he and Jess were in complete agreement. Jess and Eagle were closer than they seemed, but they were hardly the kind of friends who shared their innermost thoughts with each other. She didn't know what had blossomed between Eagle and Angel. Had Eagle still been in Green Earth, their relationship would probably have grown too obvious to hide, but he was not, and so far as Drake could tell, no one was any the wiser.

For his part, Drake had no intention of revealing the secret. It was not his place to betray Eagle's trust, no more than it had been his place to pass judgement when first his best friend came to him and explained what had happened. That did not mean Drake approved of the way Eagle had handled matters, however. His situation was born of reckless passion rather than good sense, and Drake feared it would have unforeseen consequences, even beyond what Eagle had already done to Sami. The conference with Orange Star the week before had made it perfectly clear how much Sami had been hurt, and if there was one thing Drake was sure of, it was that Sami did not deserve to be spurned like that.

"You're quiet," Jess observed.

Drake shrugged. "Just thinking, that's all."

Jess ran a hand through her hair, tracing the yellow streak through the red. "You're not fooling me, Drake. I know that look. You've got an opinion on this, but you don't want to say it out loud. I'd rather you just got to the point."

"Alright, if you insist," Drake said. "It's just that I can't help but wonder if your feelings toward Angel have something to do with how tense things have been between you and Eagle."

Jess crossed her arms. "Eagle and I always fight. That's nothing new."

"No," Drake admitted, "but you two have been a lot worse lately. Things have been bad ever since you had that, ah, disagreement in Omega Land."

"How-" Jess cut herself off and scowled in annoyance. "Javier. That man has a big mouth."

"You know Javier. It's not in his nature to keep secrets."

Jess' scowl deepened, but she did not disagree. "So you heard."

"Aye, that I did."

"I suppose you think the same as Eagle? That I should have stepped in and made sure we left them to die in the first place?"

Drake's expression softened in sympathy. "I didn't say that, Jess. Although I'll admit I was surprised by how passionately you defended Lash. I thought you would have seen the worst of her, back when you waged a campaign to sink those battleships."

"I did." Jess hesitated, and Drake glimpsed a rare flash of uncertainty in her eyes. "But I also saw a broken child who was never even taught good table manners. Lash was just a weapon, as much as the machines she built. She was used by Sturm and she was used by Von Bolt. Even I can see that. I don't understand why Eagle can't."

"Eagle's not the sort to forgive easily," Drake said.

"As if he's never made a mistake?" Jess scoffed.

Drake gave an odd twitch and looked away. If only you knew, he thought. Drake didn't know to what extent Eagle considered the utter mess of things he had made with Sami to be a mistake, or if he even regretted his actions at all. It was not a conversation that had taken place; nor was it one that was likely to. For all that he would leap into danger without a second thought, Eagle had never been one to let any doubts or regret show, much less admit any serious fault. In that he was a great deal like his father, at least from what Drake had heard.

Drake swirled the last of his cooling coffee about in his mug. "You think that's what Lash's deeds, in Green Earth and elsewhere, amount to?" He asked. "A mistake?"

For a moment he saw doubt show on Jess' face, before with a shake of her head she banished it. "I'm not disputing what she's done. I just think that considering the circumstances, Lash deserves a second chance."

Drake downed the last of his coffee and sat the mug back by the machine. "That's the thing about second chances. They're not worth much if you aren't willing to change, and from what I hear, I'm not sure Lash is."

Jess went quiet. Drake could see her struggling to come up with a response; frustration flickered about her face, before with an irritated sigh she looked away.

"We should get back to work," she muttered.

It wasn't exactly the reply Drake had been hoping for. He wasn't sure if Jess agreed with him, or if she had even understood his point. She certainly didn't seem particularly receptive. That was understandable. It wasn't easy to accept that some things were simply outside one's control. Drake suspected that to Jess, who always did her best to tackle problems through hard work and determination, that was a difficult truth to accept. Oh well, Drake thought. He'd said his piece. What Jess did with it was up to her.

"So what's in that letter of yours?" He asked as they walked back into the main command centre.

Jess ignored him as she began to rip open the thick envelope, revealing a stack of assorted papers and files inside. Drake couldn't quite make out their contents as she extracted the collection and started thumbing through it, her frown growing as she did.

"Bad news?" He tried again.

For a second time Jess did not answer, still preoccupied with scanning through the stack of papers as they moved back to her desk. She flipped through several sheets with barely more than a glance, then stopped. Jess' brow pinched as she stared at one particular sheet of paper. Whatever was written there, it had certainly gotten her attention.

"Just something I asked our intel division to follow up on," she said at last. "Orange Star suspected that Black Hole might be involved in Brown Nebula somehow. As it turns out, we'd already been monitoring an increased amount of Black Hole equipment in use there. I thought it was just abandoned gear from the wars finding its way into the wrong hands, but Orange Star's theory made me wonder if there was another explanation."

"You think Black Hole is supplying troops to someone in Brown Nebula?" Drake asked.

Jess tilted her head to one side. "I think it's worth investigating."

Drake pulled out a chair and sat down at the desk next to Jess. "There's only one issue I see. If Black Hole really is back – and I don't think there's any doubt about that – surely they'd need everything they can build for their own army."

"Agreed," Jess said. "If they're supplying someone else, they must have a good reason."

She withdrew what looked like a collection of photographs, setting the rest of the files aside. As Drake watched, Jess began studying one of the pictures, staring at it with particular intensity. Her focus never ceased to impress Drake, no matter how many times he witnessed her hard at work.

Once she was finished, Jess handed him the photo in question. "Take a look at this and tell me why we've got a problem."

Drake quickly looked it over. It was a picture of an industrial area; dilapidated warehouses and rusted machinery crowded around a dusty, cracked road that continued out of frame. At first glance it seemed like an unremarkable urban landscape, albeit a rather neglected one.

"I don't suppose you'd give an old sailor a hint?"

"Top right," Jess replied, "outside that garage door."

Drake found the area in question and inspected it, taking note of a small group standing around a waiting car. So far as Drake could tell, the car had just pulled out of the garage, and several members of the group were about to get in. It still didn't seem like anything out of the ordinary, except… Drake's brow furrowed, and he peered at the photo more closely.

"Are those Black Hole soldiers?"

"That's correct," Jess said.

Drake set the photo down on his desk. "And what are they doing in Brown Nebula?"

"Good question." Jess put a hand to her chin as she considered that. "This was taken a week ago in Brown Nebula's biggest port. Intelligence was tracking the activity of a warlord named Scorpion when they observed the meet. Scorpion, I might add, has apparently been deploying more Black Hole equipment than any other warlord."

"Which all suggests he's working with, or for, Black Hole," Drake concluded.

"It certainly looks that way." Jess sighed. "In the past eighteen months, Scorpion has gone from a petty insurgent to controlling almost a fifth of the country. We know almost nothing about him, except that he's ruthless, violent, and deeply hostile towards the Allied Nations."

Drake exhaled in a great puff. Jess was right; this was a problem. It was difficult to imagine that Black Hole could be cultivating influence in the lawless parts of the globe without an established and secure power base, and the implications of that were troubling indeed.

He lifted the photograph and gave it a second look. There was someone standing in between the two Black Hole soldiers, a smaller figure who was not dressed like one of Scorpion's militia fighters. He was partially turned away from the camera, and it was difficult to make out much else.

"And what about this man?" Drake asked, tapping the photo. "Do we have any idea who he is?"

"Not according to the report," Jess said.

"Could it be Koal? He's still unaccounted for."

Jess gave a firm shake of her head. "It's not him. Too tall. Too little hair."

"Another mystery, then," Drake surmised. "Do you mind if I hold onto this? I'd like to do some more digging and see what I can turn up."

"Be my guest." Jess picked up the stack of files and handed it to him. "I should get back to these plans, anyway."

He took the papers and sat them on the desk with the photo of the meeting, swivelling to face the monitor as he prepared to get to work. Drake was pensive as he logged into the computer. It was a troubling picture that was beginning to form; a glimpse into a web of sinister machinations that spanned the continents. Someone – perhaps Flare – was manipulating events from the shadows, and despite their best efforts, Green Earth and Orange Star had only gleaned hints of their operation. Drake didn't know what to make of it. In the years since their army's existence had become known, Black Hole's strategies had been brutal and direct. He could only wonder if this more subtle approach was a result of necessity, desperation, or something more alarming.

Again Drake found himself left with the feeling that it was all too familiar. Alliances were breaking down, the great powers were divided and hostile, and an unseen hand sought to take advantage of it all. It was hard not to see echoes of the past in what was happening now. The similarity to the events of the First Great War was striking, right down to Blue Moon launching an invasion of Orange Star. Still, that was not to say the situation was identical. The world was wise to Black Hole's ambitions now, and it was quite certain Olaf would never help the enemy again. Not after what had been done to his hometown.

Drake sighed and rubbed his temples. Perhaps Black Hole was simply responding to events as they unfolded, just like everyone else. Life had a way of being unpredictable, after all. He pondered that for a moment longer, deciding that there was no sense in searching for malign intent behind every major world event. That would only send them chasing ghosts at a time when their resources were already stretched thin.

And yet the feeling remained.