Hogue listens to Hugh... intently might be the word.
"Captain, you're telling me you're unprepared to lead men into harm's way with hardly no support against some empire of evil spacemen. That's not anything but common sense. What you did over there you did to the best of your ability, and maybe you made those chrome bastards think twice about steamrollering over us. Captain, it's your experience in direct action against these Imperials I'm looking for now, not your tactics, not your frontline leadership. You'll have a part in this operation we're setting up but rest assured that you are back in the chain of command."
---
The steaks, beers, and dreams melt away and the next morning most everyone finds themselves in the mess hall staring at an odd sight - Swims-the-Black and the crimson shipboy poking at a spread of reconstituted scrambled eggs (fresh from the bag), gamey sausage, and the mess' oft-overlooked secret, blueberry pancakes.
Davis grabs a few pancakes and eggs, and sits down across from the two of them. "How are you two holding up? Quarters comfortable, food okay, any problems?"
Hugh shambles over with nothing but two glasses of milk. Despite the exhaustion on his face, he looks a bit better than yesterday. He sits down quietly, then empties the first glass of milk with a few hearty glugs.
"Hellohoware youtoday?" the shipboy rambles in hastily-formed English. "The Homeworlders want me to stay here," he adds in Imperial, a spray of half-chewed pancake bits settling to his plate.
"I am inclined to agree with them, actually," Swims signs. "Small as he is, he is the last of my crew and I would spare him what we are planning to do."
Davis nods. "Yeah, that's a good idea." He looks somewhat impressed at how quick the shipboy has picked up English. "Hey, you want to help out? We're a little slow when it comes to Imperial tech, and I bet you know all different kinds of tricks that we don't. We're gonna be...trying to get into places on an Imperial ship we're not supposed to go, want to teach us a little breaking and entering?" he says with a mischievous glint in his eye.
"Yes thankyouvery mooch," the kid replies in his nascent English. "Where...what..." his face scrunches up but then he goes back to his native tongue, much to the amusement of Mellish, who's working on a stack of flapjacks to rival Angel's own IHOP masterpiece.
"Which kind of ship?" the shipboy asks. "Little ships are harder to mess with. Big ships, like Needles, they have too many extra bits that need to talk to each other. It's easier to get at something and tell the other bits what you want them to do. If you have a spacesuit, you can get places they don't expect either."
Luis is sitting a few seats down the long mess table, sipping a mug of black coffee and trying to work his way through a set of memos that comprise a sort of "Everything We Know About Imperium Computers For Dummies." He's not sure which is giving him more of a headache, trying to stir his half-remembered computer science classes enough to understand the rather dense memos, or the aftereffects of last night. He considers going to talk to the others, but that would involve sound, and sound hurts right now.
Davis' eyes light up a bit. "I guess we're in luck. We need to disable or hopefully capture a Needleship when we go after Boronai. What do you know about them?"
"They have funny grav, so some of the decks are like tall buildings"- the kid illustrates by pointing to Angel's pancakes - "but some run crosswise from engines to bridge." A pen is procured and he starts doodling out on a napkin. "When you look at the Needle longways, the hangar bay's on its belly, big guns through here up to the nose. Bridge is around here" - he scribbles a circle a little way back from the bow of the needleship. "When you turn it tallways, engines go from the bottom to about... here." He cordons off about a quarter of the wider part of the needleship.
"People get round in Needles by using lifts, and some of them run on the outside close to the hull. So if you had a spacesuit you can get inside the lift parts maybe. To make it go where you want, you need to get the bridge and the engines though. Probably at the same time. They have a lot of guys on there."
"Needles are some of the fastest ships over long distances," Swims adds, "But slow to maneuver and slow in a short race. I believe that the internal security is somewhat less than one would expect - after all, it is a closed system. Our plan of depositing stolen mantas and fake Turai, if it gets us onboard, should result in two brief coups at engineering and command without a protracted battle."
Davis nods. "Sounds like a plan. While I've got you here Swims-the-Black, we're looking at possible problems at the Repository. Anything you know about its layout, security, anything at all. The Repository is going to be the definition of hostile territory and we'll need any advantage we can get."
"A labyrinthine network of slaves hunched over consoles, data pits, and mausoleum-esque storage vaults. Hundreds of servants, if not more. If our disguises hold until we breach the system, we will only have to fight our way from the Repository INTO the Court itself. It may throw them off and let us get to the Black Gate - if that is still the plan. We would face Alef-ka. If we are slow in disseminating the ROBS throughout the Cortex, then we would surely be overrun."
"Do not worry about hull breaches. Otherwise, it depends on where you are and what you are shooting. I would watch my fire inside their engineering section. Any defenders would also likely avoid firing in there."
"So our disguises have to hold until we get to the Cortex itself. Hopefully reprogramming their security system will give us enough time to get the job done before the entire Imperial army invades the Repository."
Davis pauses for a second. "How are you two holding up? It's been a rough last few weeks for you and the kid, especially considering...what happened to One-Ton." His voice softens and he lowers his head a little. "I didn't know him as long as you two did, but I did know him well enough to like him. If there's anything we can do for him..."
The shipboy looks up at Swims, who signs for him to go refill his cafeteria glass.
"Yes. You can win," the alien signs, punctuating with a grunt. "Make his death - maybe our deaths - mean something. And what One-Ton knew will be passed to your people through him," Swims ends, nodding to the boy.
"We'll find a way to honor him," Hugh says, looking serious. He finishes his second glass of milk, then stands up. "Nice talking to you. I'll be at the firing range, if anyone needs me."
"Kaythicksbuy!" waves the kid. You wonder where he's learning his English...
Later
Varos sighs as Davis enters the small room. It's hard to consider the furnishings fit for the Keeper's once-lavish tastes, but the quarters are a far cry from his cell back in Arizona. The two bored guards at the end of the hall nod at Davis as he enters Varos' room.
"Hello, Hethna," Davis says. "Good to see you're settling into Diego Garcia. It must be nice to see some more of the plants and animals you saw in those nature DVDs I left for you. I've been taking some hand-to-hand lessons from Arketta, a bit sore but she's an excellent teacher."
"You shouldn't let your... what is the word for it... dog bite you like that," Varos replies.
Davis smiles and shakes his head. "Only you could think she's still our prisoner, Hethna. She's just as important and trusted as Hugh or I are, and I'd trust her with my life. Anyway, if you need anything for your research here, I'll be happy to get it for you."
"I was actually wondering how your mission went," the old man asks, pulling a chair forward for Davis and taking a seat on his bed.
"Thank you," Davis says, taking a seat. "The mission went well enough, we've got a good enough idea on what we're up against that we're moving forward with our next plan. We need your help with it, though. We're attacking Boronai and the Spire, and we need to know everything that you do about it, what the layout is, what the security's like, the codes to the gate on the inside, everything."
"You know I don't have those codes," Varos responds. "They would have changed them. And I gave you the codes to the Boranai Gateport."
Davis shakes his head. "We don't need the security codes to the gate elevator, we just need the codes to the gate itself, and those, they can't change. I know you know them, and we need them to make sure we can take the Spire without doing much damage."
"And how would you take it without the secondary codes to position the Gate at an accessible level?"
"We're not going to take it, we're just going to disable it so they can't use it against us. We want to capture as much technology as we can, and it won't do us much good if they just run out the door with it," Davis says. "Will you tell me the codes, Hethna?"
"I will, but I believe you need to offer me something first."
"Such as?"
"Put your mind to it. I'm sure you can think of something."
Davis sighs. "Hethna, this lack of cooperation on your part is becoming a problem. Do you really think that the Imperials will welcome you back with open arms if you somehow get out of here?" Davis spins his laptop around, showing him the broadcast of the warrant for him. "They haven't just changed your access codes. They've purged you entirely. They want you dead, just like the rest of us."
"A fake," Varos says, anger rising ever so slightly. "Let me see that..." he looks over the recorded data in silence. His silence continues after he slides the computer back to Davis.
"The Imperials don't care about your loyalty, Hethna. In fact, I bet they've already replaced you. They were using you for as long as they could, and now that they don't need you, they're tossing you out with the garbage," he says. "I bet they didn't even care about your studies, your research. What were you working on, again?"
"I don't remember. It was apparently unimportant."
"See, that's where you're wrong. Not only do we want you with us, Hethna, we need you with us. You've seen our technology, how much we understand. We need someone with your expertise and knowledge to help us understand what we might find in the Spire. But we need your help to get us in there. We need to know what you know about it so we can take it without damaging what's inside. Will you help us, Hethna?"
"And what will become of my old masters?" Varos asks. He seems intrigued but wary as always.
"If they surrender, we'll take them alive, but if they don't, well, we have to take the Spire."
"No, fool. What are your plans for the Imperium?"
"In the long run?" Davis has to think about that for a second. "We're committed to seeing that Earth, the Bashakrans, or anyone else who allies with us is safe and free. If that means crippling the Imperial army and starting a revolution, then that's what we have to do."
"Suitably vague, presumably to match my recalcitrance. Well played, Davis."
Davis smiles, this time with a guarded edge. "We're not stupid, Hethna. We know that starting a ground war with the Imperials is suicide. If they decide that we're not worth conquering, that they're better off leaving us alone and letting us join the rest of the galaxy at our own pace, then we'll be happy with that." He looks right into Varos' eyes. "But you know that's not what they're going to do. This will either end with us leading a revolution that ends with the Emperor himself being deposed, or with our deaths."
"You are preparing for war, then." Varos smiles back. "My curiosity is piqued, certainly. And I am not so blind to miss the opportunity here. Your people have proved themselves capable since our last talks, and what I took for goading and boasts appear to be somewhat based in fact. I will give you the Spire Gate, and you will do something for me if the opportunity arises."
"Within reason, of course. You're giving us access and information, not the keys to the Emperor's chamber. Don't get too greedy, Hethna."
"Oh, but the key to His chamber is what I speak of," he replies. Varos taps the gold implants that run along his pale, depilated scalp. "I assume that your mischief and warmaking will lead you to encounter one of His avatars. Inside each of the seven is a smooth silver globe. As I said, if you encounter an Avatar, and you are still standing after, bring the globe to me."
"And what can you do with these globes? If this makes some kind of horrible doomsday weapon, I think we'd want to know before you set it off."
Varos smirks, as if that was the furthest idea from his mind. "Instant communication across any distance," Varos says. "They are... kin to the Gates."
Davis nods. "Good. And of course, you'll have access to whatever we find in the Spire." He extends his hand to shake. "Are you ready to join us, Hethna?"
The old man rises tiredly. "The Masters are laughing in their timeless vaults over this, but yes." His hand is cold, rough with age but not with labor.
"Good. We're almost ready to move out, so we should start debriefing you now." Davis opens the door and motions for Varos to follow him.
Admiral Duck Sauce
