Chapter 121: The Morning After Post-Mortem Pt 1

Chapter 121: The Morning After Post-Mortem Pt 1

In uniform this time, Admiral Pierce walked towards a conference room in The Spire, the consolidated Republic Defense command center.

Admiral Saysangkhi sprinted to catch up.

"Helluva night, huh," she said, her almond-shaped eyes glittering with delight.

"Putting it mildly," the admiral said with a chuckle. "Somebody, and I think we all know who decided to declare war. What is Jon thinking? He just tossed any diplomatic resolution right out the fucking window."

"Is it confirmed?" Admiral Saysangkhi said, looking up at him. "Is it her?"

"Not officially," Admiral Pierce replied. "Hopefully, the bitchasers have something for us... But who else can it be, Neveah? Did you see the footage?"

"Some of it," Admiral Saysangkhi said. "Pretty scary shit. That... whatever it is... kept engaging targets after we hit the system. We couldn't stop her."

"We never could," Admiral Pierce said as they reached the door. "Jesus, this is going to be a shitshow... Ready?"

"No," Admiral Saysangkhi laughed as they opened the door and walked in.

***

"We... we lost all ten of our primary storage depots... all of our nukes... the food... the medicine..." a very nervous Bai stammered as she knelt. "The training facility as well as our two main barracks..."

Patricia Hu just stood there glaring at her, shaking slightly.

"L-losses to our combat fleet were significant. They... they knew exactly which ships to target, my lad-"

Patricia shrieked and, drawing her sword in one fluid motion, struck...

With a flash of steel and a "clang", her blade was deflected.

She shrieked again and slashed at Monarch...

Who effortlessly deflected that blow as well with her bian, a long four-sided metal rod, and either parried or simply dodged the flurry of strikes that followed.

"My Lady," Monarch sighed, "Bai has served us well and was instrumental in preserving what few assets we have left, including you... and I believe we have lost enough bloodlords for one day."

Patricia glared at Monarch, breathing heavily. When had she gotten so good? She should be in pieces on the floor, not looking down at her with barely disguised contempt. She should strike her down for her insolence, but could she?...

And the stance Monarch had just taken... It was subtle, an almost imperceptible shift in her weight, but she was ready to strike.

Patricia knew if she stepped forward, she would be fighting for her life...

And she didn't know if she would win.

"My Lady," Monarch said as she lowered her head respectfully but still looking directly into her eyes, nearly paralyzing her (When the hell did she learn that trick and how dare she use it on me!), "I beg your forgiveness for my insolence and plead for your mercy."

Monarch "knelt" (crouched), still looking directly into her eyes. It appeared to be an act of contrition, but Patricia couldn't help but notice that she was still perfectly centered, her weight perfectly distributed.

Monarch's face was one filled with fear but her eyes...

Patricia forced herself not to shudder. She knew full well what Monarch could do with that damned rod of hers, and it wasn't pretty.

If her victim was lucky, she would kill with a single blow so fast it could barely be seen, but most of her victims weren't so blessed. For most, death came slowly as almost every bone in their body shattered, and they were left, unable to move, as the shock and pain slowly consumed them.

Even if her victim was "saved", they weren't spared. Their body could be rebuilt, of course, but the damage was so extensive, so complete, that they, and more importantly, their chi, never moved quite the same again. They were forever diminished...

Ruined, weak, vulnerable...

From the look in Monarch's eyes, she would NOT be one of the lucky ones.

Patricia felt a sharp twinge in her side from where someone far less skilled than Monarch had nearly killed her. If she failed to stop that damned mouse from cutting her, what chance did she have, really have, against someone like Monarch?

But Monarch was giving her an out, a way to back down without losing face. All she had to do was "forgive" her. Patricia choked back the bile as she realized that she was being given "a path of retreat" and took it.

"You are fortunate that you are so valuable, Monarch," Patricia Hu said in a cool, regal voice. "I would cut down anyone else for far less."

Patricia examined her blade and found, with a mixture of annoyance and even more concern, that it was completely unmarred. So complete was her skill, her dominance, Monarch had batted away her blade without even damaging the edge!

"And you are correct," Patricia said. "We have lost enough good people. We must make do with what we have left," she said, looking at Bai as if she was a worm.

"Thank you, My Lady," Monarch said in a relieved, submissive tone... but those eyes... They threatened to consume her utterly. It was becoming hard to breathe.

"Leave me," Patricia said. "I do not wish to be disturbed."

***

"An act of war has been committed against the Republic!" Glenn Maxwell, the head of Republic Intelligence, shouted before everyone could even take their seats.The initial posting of this chapter occurred via Ñøv€l-B!n.

"Well, an act of war was certainly committed on somebody," Admiral Pierce replied with a smirk as he sat down.

"You think this is funny?!?"

"Glenn," the admiral replied with a smile, "I think everything is funny. It's how we kept sane out there in the black while you were sitting on your ass writing documents."

"If it wasn't for us' sitting on our asses', you wouldn't have lasted a week against the bug, and you fucking know it!"

"Yeah, Pierce," Admiral Saysangkhi chided, "Remember that one time they were right?"

Glenn Maxwell's eyes flared, and he drew in a sharp breath.

"Gentlemen," Augustine Raharimampionona said in a calm but commanding tone as he started to reply, "Can we please keep departmental rivalries at bay until at least the briefing is over?"

"Sorry, Prime Minister," Maxwell replied in a professional tone, clearly still pissed off (or otherwise stressed for some reason).

"So," Prime Minister Augustine (she went by her first name for obvious reasons) said as she looked at her tablet. "What do we know, actually know?"

***

"I owe you my life," Bai gasped as she and Monarch left Patricia's chamber.

"Yes," Monarch smiled, the holographic butterflies on her cheeks fluttering as she did so, "you do, and I hope you remember that in the days to come."

"I will!" Bai whispered urgently. "But why? Why did you do it?"

"In this wonderful little organization, there are two kinds of people," Monarch said with a faint sneer, "cultists and salarymen, those who caper about eating babies and kissing Her Ladyship's ass and those of us who actually keep this freak show running. We are the salarymen, and there were precious few of us before last night. Now," she said, looking at Bai gravely, "there are less. I can't afford to lose another of my people. You are one of mine, right?"

"Absolutely!" Bai said with absolute conviction. Nobody had ever stood up for her like that, risked their life for her, even before Yellowstone. Even her beloved Arban would have just stood there and let that maniac chop her in half.

"Good," Monarch said, the butterflies on the side of her face shimmering in the light.

***

"Last evening starting at 21:43 Republic Standard Time, a series of strikes using thermonuclear weapons was launched in the Barnard's Star system by an unknown attacker using a stealth equipped strike craft of unknown design," Admiral Pierce said calmly. "All targets were the property of Red Phoenix Holdings. A total of thirteen stationary assets and seventeen ships were destroyed, with no survivors. Total dead is unknown."

The admiral cut his eyes at Glenn.

"It seems," he continued with a smirk, "That Red Phoenix Holdings has not released an official casualty list as of yet."

"Mr. Maxwell," Augustine said, the corner of her wizened oaken face curling up in a faint smile, "could you please ask Ms. Hu if she would be so kind as to release that information?"

"I... I..." Glenn stammered, caught off-guard, "(Ahem) That is a matter for Interpol. They can submit an official request."

"Where did she get them?"

"No idea," the chief shrugged. "And to be honest, I don't want to know."

"I know," Bunny said cheerfully over a nearby speaker.

"Where?" Sheloran asked.

"Mars."

"No shit?" the chief said, his eyestalks jerking in surprise.

"No shit," Bunny answered. "you haven't looked at the isotopes?"

"Been a little busy," the chief said as he started opening up the missiles in preparation for arming.

"Everything has been scrubbed, no easy feat without bricking the damn things," Bunny said, "except for the actual missiles themselves. Dust don't lie. These missiles have flaxen hair, literally. I found six of them so far."

"Thanks for telling me," the chief said sarcastically, "and the Plath," he added with a somewhat more serious tone.

"Oh, like she's going anywhere anytime soon," Bunny snickered, somewhat "disappointed" (but of course it's impossible for Bunny to feel that) that Sheloran didn't react, but Sheloran didn't seem to even notice.

She was just standing there, staring at the insides of a nuclear weapon with a dreamy look in her eyes.

So primitive, she thought. Why don't they just-

She blinked. There was a brief image of... something... and then it was gone, leaving only odd glyphs connected by strangely contorted lines in her mind's eye.

Soon even that dissolved, leaving only an all-consuming curiosity in its place. She simply had to know all about these things.

She had to.

She pointed at a small cylinder.

"What's that?" she asked excitedly.

***

"So, even if she knew the Reaper so well, she could design one from memory," the silver-haired woman in the green jacket asked, "where the hell did she have it built?"

"If she could somehow get her hands on the proper components," a naval officer replied, "there are hundreds of custom shipbuilders who make performance spacecraft on a daily basis. I'm sure one of them would be willing to make something like this if the price was right... and based on what we know of her family background and her recent activities," he added, "she could probably pay it." He looked at his tablet.

"The limiting factor would be the components," he said, furrowing his brow. "A lot of this stuff is tightly, and I mean tightly, controlled. Getting two Morays wouldn't be an issue. Since we started phasing them out, those are a dime a dozen on the surplus market. But everything else, including the unlocked nukes, is definitely not."

"Well," the Prime Minister asked, "do we have any idea where she could have obtained stuff like that?"

"There are a few possibilities," the Inspector General replied. "There are a few 'engineering firms' that cater to mercenaries and the like. One, in particular, comes to mind. We're moving on them as we speak."

***

"Hi, mom!" a huge-eyed garden snake with a prehensile multi-forked tongue said happily.

"Jeruzz?" a slightly darker snake asked with surprise and delight. "Jeruzz! It is you! Oh, my little one! It's so good to see you!"

"Same here!" Jeruzz exclaimed happily. "I missed you so much!"

"I missed you too, my darling clutchling! But you shouldn't have called. You should be saving your credits!"

"I got a job!" Jeruzz said with an excited warble. "A job!"

"You did?" his mother asked, warbling happily. "Even without one of those certificate thingies?"

"Yes! Can you believe it?" Jeruzz said, bobbing his head up and down. "It's just a contract job, but they paid a bunch and gave me a huge advance! Mom! It's enough to pay for school!"

"Oh darling!" his mother warbled.

"Then I can get a job at a refinery and make enough for all of you to come!"

"That would be wonderful!" his mother exclaimed. "What are you doing?"

"I'm an office manager! Can you believe it?!? They put me in charge of a whole office!"

His mother's tongue drooped slightly.

"An office manager? Without a certificate?" she asked suspiciously.

"Yes!" Ms. Martinez (that's my boss!) said she liked my eyes. It's amazing! I was the first applicant, and she just said 'good enough' and gave me the job!"

"And what are you doing... exactly?"

"I'm working for a place called Janustec while they go through something called a GTFOD. It's some sort of business thingy. Everyone else is really busy with the GTFOD, whatever that is, so they entrusted me with the whole office! I answer all the phones and say 'Welcome to Janustec,' and then I say their company slogan, 'Yellowstone, Yellowstone, Yellowstone' and then I take a message, but most people just hang up (weird). But if they do leave a message, I write it down and send it and all the emails to this special inbox. They even gave me a special phone for important stuff! I have a phone! It's called a 'burner'! They even said I could keep it!"

"Honey, this sounds a little..."

"Oh, my stars, mom!" Jeruzz enthused as his mother's tongue drooped further, "They were so nice! They even said that their new location was fully furnished, so I could take anything I wanted!"

"Are you sure that's ok?"

"Things are different here in the Republic, mom!" Jeruzz exclaimed as a dozen black grav-cars silently descended onto the parking lot. "They have so much they can just give it away! Even this call is free! They have their own hyperspace relay! They told me I could call as many people as I wanted!" he exclaimed, bouncing with delight. "In fact, they insisted! I got a computer and a wonderful holo-screen and-"

BOOM

Jeruzz was cut short by a deafening explosion as armor-piercing flash bangs shattered the armored transparent front glass...

Followed by dozens of armored humans!!!

"Hands up!" a loud voice shouted.

Jeruzz's tongue shot up above his head as his pupils dilated in shock.

Two armored humans ran up to him as the rest of the squad swept the building.

"Whath thappening?" Jeruzz lisped as his mother started screaming, "My baby! Don't hurt my baby!"

The pair of hardened veteran agents lasted about three seconds before they started giggling.

***

"Fucking Janustec," the Inspector General grumbled as he hung up his phone. "It was Janustec," he proclaimed. "Either that or they all decided to rip out all of their drives and take the day off after convincing a poor xeno that 'Yellowstone, Yellowstone, Yellowstone,' was their company motto."

***

On the other side of the planet, an older gentleman walked into a room containing a large cardboard box with an electric blanket stuffed inside.

"You ok, little guy?" he asked in a kind voice.

"Am I in trouble?" a weak voice warbled from underneath the blanket.

"A lot of people are in some very deep shit," the man said with a chuckle, "but I promise that you aren't one of them."

"Can I call my mom?"