Chapter Thirteen: Enshadowed

June 19, 2017. Aboard the Sunset Apogee.

Fitz sat at a table, numerous mechanical parts set out before him. A holographic screen hung in the air to his side, which he consulted as he assembled them all, using a briefcase as the frame. "So, that goes there, this goes here…why can't we just get the Rhines to do this, or the Mimics?" he asked.

"Their AI is extremely rudimentary," Mr. Echo answered, his attention on a map of the surrounding area. Numerous blips appeared at various locations, revealing other sites of interest. "They have two purposes: labor and infiltration. Programming the capability of constructing this device into them would take longer than the construction itself."

Letting out a small grunt, Fitz glanced over at the far side of the table, where a cylinder emanating a green glow sat. "Are you sure that thing is secure? It's not gonna turn me into some kinda mutant, is it?"

Echo was really not in the mood to explain everything to his underling right now. "Polaris Industries may be subpar when it comes to workplace safety, but I'm sure they safely contain all of their radioactive materials. And if not…I've found that my mutations make me roughly immune to nuclear radiation. So you have nothing to worry about."

"How reassuring," Fitz muttered under his breath, reluctantly going back to work on the bomb. "Can't believe I signed up for this. Thought I'd be ushering mankind into a new age, but no, I'm putting myself at risk twice over! Building a bomb with instructions from…where did he get these, the internet? This thing had better work, I swear…"

"If you've finished complaining, feel free to take a break," Echo said. "And check on the transmission array while you're at it. We recently had a power surge, so it should have increased significantly."

With all the enthusiasm of a child being asked to take out the trash, Fitz got up from his seat, heading into the main room of the ship. "Why, of course, boss, I would like to do nothing more." He activated a console connected to the ship's core, scrolling over until he found a reading that shocked him. "What!? Sixty-eight percent!? How is that possible!? This thing's been charging for over a year!"

"Unfortunately, we don't have access to the same fuel quantity Gemkind would have," said Mr. Echo. "Nevertheless, this is acceptable progress. At this rate, we should have more than enough time to prepare."

"Y'know, all this time, and you've never explained exactly what we're preparing for," said Fitz. "I mean, we're building a bomb and a direct line to Homeworld, so it's not that hard to figure out, but I'd still like to know a few details!"

"And you will have them, in time." Mr. Echo was more focused on a moving blip along the map. This clearly bothered him, but his lack of surprise showed that this was nothing new.

Fitz noticed this as well. "Should we mobilize the bots?" he asked.

"No need. This is the seventh Polaris patrol this month," said Echo, shutting down the map and strolling away. "They have been searching for this ship for months, and have yet to come close. We should not give away our position until it is absolutely necessary." He went into the next room, where the warp pad had been placed. "Continue your work, and inform me if anything changes outside."

Not exactly thrilled at having to pull double duty, Fitz silently went back over to his table. He pulled up a second screen, showing the map, as he resumed construction on their explosive device.

Meanwhile, Echo went to check on the warp pad haphazardly connected to the ship's core. He pulled up yet another screen, showing a number of locations across the globe. "Its reach is still too narrow," he muttered. "I'll have to further modify it to move beyond the warp network…"

July 9, 2017. Polaris Headquarters.

"Come on." The door to St. Augustine's office opened, and one of his executives walked in. "Please try to keep this brief, I was in the middle of something."

"Of course, sir," the man said. "The team in Azerbaijan just reported in–still no sign of Mr. Echo. They're awaiting your orders now."

He looked up, slightly annoyed. "Tell them to keep looking!" he said. "The longer that pink relic is active, the more he'll keep trying to bring down this entire company! Tell them to keep scouring every single country even remotely close to where that ship landed, and not to stop until they ensure he's no longer a threat. Understood?"

"Right, yes, of course." The man scurried out the door, once again leaving St. Augustine alone. He waited for a moment, to be sure that his subordinate wouldn't double back, before resuming his previous activity.

Pressing a button on his desk, dividers lowered before the windows, and the lights dimmed. "I apologize for the interruption," he grumbled. "Please, proceed."

"It's not an issue." A yellow-colored waveform warbled before the windows along with the voice, which had been distorted into a low growl. "I assume that was to do with the resurrected human?"

"Yes, the one who calls himself 'Mr. Echo,'" said Barnabas. "He won't be a problem, I can assure you. Instead, we should be more concerned with BAINE. Have you been monitoring them?"

"Our insider has kept us informed of their doings," the voice replied. "For the time being, BAINE is more worried about Echo than with us. And even discounting that, they have no reason to suspect our collaboration."

St. Augustine scowled. "You may say that, but if I've learned anything over these past few years, it's that BAINE has a habit of getting involved where they shouldn't. Speaking of, do I have your assurance that if your spy is discovered, they can't trace him back to us?"

"You worry too much, Barnabas St. Augustine," said the voice. "Our business dealings are completely untraceable. Even if one of us is found out, there is nothing to tie them to the others. Your safety is guaranteed."

"Well, that's some good news," he said, getting to his feet. "Why don't we turn this conversation into something more positive? When can we expect your next shipment?"

"Imminently. The technology will be dropped off at a location that will be relayed to you. Special precautions have been made to prevent Rhinestones from scavenging it before it can be retrieved."

"That's good to know," St. Augustine said, perhaps a little sarcastically. "If only these 'precautions' had been engaged sooner. For that matter, if you're able to track his Rhinestones, why can't you just hunt Mr. Echo down and dispose of him?"

"Because Mr. Echo is neither a help nor a hindrance to our plans," the voice explained. "Whatever his plans are for this world, they are of no concern to us. To hunt him down would be an unnecessary expenditure of resources. And on that subject…when can we expect our next payment?"

Barnabas looked around nervously. "Soon. Soon, okay? It's a little hard to get the…what you're asking for."

"Is it? And here I thought you said it was one of Earth's most plentiful resources."

"That was before I found out what you were doing to them," he added under his breath. "But look, I'll send you a fresh batch just as soon as I come into a surplus. Shouldn't be too long with those Rhinestones running around. Just do what you can to keep BAINE off our backs, okay?"

"As I said before, BAINE is not an issue," said the voice. "Our insider would inform us if they were to stumble onto our dealings. In the meantime, just provide us with what we need, and you will be well taken care of."

"As long as you–" But the call had already ended. The waveform vanished, and light returned once more to the room. St. Augustine sighed, returning to his desk. "This is why I hate working with Gems," he muttered.

September 14, 2017. BAINE Headquarters.

It was the dead of night. Everybody aside from the night crew was asleep, and they were busy handling their own business. The building was mostly still, with the floors monitored solely by security cameras…as well as those who knew how to maneuver around them.

Vargas worked his way up top, taking a route that would place him on as few cameras as possible. It wasn't that he was worried about being seen at all, just that they might question just what he was up to walking around at this hour. Eventually, he managed to find his destination: an unassuming janitor's closet.

Ducking inside, he produced his buzzing phone from his pocket. "What!?" he said irritably. "You can't just call me out of the blue like this! I'm surrounded by people who, if you didn't know, aren't aware of what I'm doing!"

"Sorry, but this was urgent," a female voice said. "We just received word that there are some rumors circulating that Blue and Yellow Diamond are thinking about heading to Earth. The Cluster has taken too long to emerge for their liking, and they want to expedite the process."

Unimpressed, Vargas resisted the urge to hang up then and there. "A rumor? You woke me up at three in the morning and put my cover at risk because of a rumor? Do you want me to have to explain what I'm doing to Daniel? Or better yet, to Mills?"

The voice stammered. "Just…be careful out there, okay? The escape of Rose Quartz has everybody on edge. All it could take is the slightest nudge to have them mobilize. Please be prepared if something should happen. If you need to evacuate…"

"No, not this again," said Vargas. "Look, unless you or your boss are prepared to offer some direct help, I don't wanna hear it. We've handled ourselves just fine so far, so your concern is appreciated, but unneeded."

"Understood," the woman said. "Remember, just say the word, and we'll send a ship to bring you to Homeworld."

"Eh, don't bother, I'll find my own way to you," Vargas said. "I've still got some things to take care of here."

"Understood," she said again. "Let us know when you require transportation. I can send a guide to bring you to us."

Their conversation over, Vargas hung up, annoyed at being woken up for nothing. He followed the route he had taken on the way there, caring less about being seen this time (though not entirely). Before long, he was back at the barracks. He did his best to look groggy and half-asleep, which was not too difficult.

Once he headed inside, he found that someone was awake. "Vargas?" asked Luke, rubbing his eyes. "It's three in the morning, what are you doing up?"

"Pissing," he replied, like it was obvious. He went back to bed, seeming to fall asleep then and there. Luke certainly believed he had, but the truth is he was deep in thought. Although he had brushed it off at first, his contact's warning still rang in his head. The Diamonds were coming–and they were coming soon.