The Shape of Surrender

Tor’laen stood by as the Armswomen snapped restraints on the last of the terrorists. Absentmindedly, he rubbed at his left arm, feeling still slowly creeping back into the semi-numb limb. The Dorrai’s blow had actually dented his armor so severely that it had been necessary to cut away the entire sleeve, leaving his arm bare. He shifted his weight, spent casings crunching under his boots.

The prisoners had been lined up against one of the room’s walls, currently under guard from almost a full squad of Armswomen. The Kelrana captives had proved the trickiest, as their hands, feet, and tails all had to be shackled — each limb as dexterous as the others. Every one of the terrorists had been searched, and thankfully none of them had any explosives or detonators hidden in their clothes.

Tor’laen watched as Sergeant Rila — the same Zakkili who had complained about arming him in the shuttle — moved down the line of prisoners, Delving into each of their minds for information. She was apparently related to a sizable Noble family, a second cousin or something similar, and was Mikka’s go-to woman for psychic interrogation. It felt a little…callous, after what he had seen earlier that day, but Tor’laen also found that he didn’t much care. These terrorists had made their bunk, and now they could lie in it.

With the intel she had pulled from their minds, the Citadel’s forces had rounded up the last pockets of resistance in the building, each small group surrendering under the threat of overwhelming force. The teams lying in wait around the building had also moved in, and the factory was practically crawling with soldiers from the Aegis now. The Armswomen were sweeping every inch of the building, searching for any hardware and equipment used in the bombing.

“We got some more over here, LT.”

The call came from Tor’laen’s left, and he turned to see a pair of Armswomen gingerly placing a couple of half-finished explosive devices on one of the desks. The assault teams had been carefully searching each of the fabricators and retrieving their contents.

“Good work, you two,” Mikka replied, striding over to check the unfinished devices. She had her communicator out, and she pointed it at the explosives. The handheld’s screen showed the CIC of the Aegis, the feed routed directly through the holotable at the center of it.

“These are the latest ones we’ve found,” Mikka announced, slowly panning her communicator over the unfinished bombs.

“Oh, those are nasty,” Nivi’s voice came from the communicator. “Those aren’t something a civilian group should have the blueprints for.”

Mikka caught Tor’laen’s gaze and jerked her head, motioning for him to come closer.

“What are the numbers, Mikka?” This time it was Nalyra’s voice that came from the small device.

“Twenty-two dead, nineteen in custody, Nalyra. On our side, we have three wounded — nothing too serious, a couple cracked ribs, a flesh wound…oh, and Corporal Saia got her gong rung by a round pinging her helmet, but I doubt it’s a concussion. I’ll have the medics take a look at her when we’re back on the Aegis.”

“A sizable operation,” Vessa remarked, frowning at the image of the unfinished bombs. “Are you certain this is all of them?”

“I’ve got Rila Delving the captives.” Mikka shrugged. “There are already a few civilian contacts to follow, but none of them were actively involved, from the sounds of it.”

“Send us the data when you can, Mikka.” Nalyra steepled her fingers, her expression frosty. “The peacekeeping forces will round up and detain them. Then we may ascertain the level of their guilt.”

“Commander, I’ve got something here!”

Sergeant Rila called out, still kneeling next to one of the prisoners; a surly-looking Zakkili woman. Mikka and Tor’laen moved over to her, and she stood to meet them. The sergeant gave the Ydani a brief nod before looking at Mikka.

“This one remembers the terrorist who planted the bomb in the governor’s office, LT.”

“Good. Who was it? We’ll Delve them next,” Mikka said eagerly.

“Well…” The sergeant simply pointed at one of the lined up bodies. It was the woman who tried to detonate the bomb. The one whose skull Mikka had ventilated.

“...ah.” The Lieutenant Commander deflated a bit at the news.

“What is it, Mikka?” Nalyra’s sharp voice came from the communicator.

“We, uh…we have confirmation on the terrorist who planted the bomb in your sister’s office, Nalyra,” Mikka began, looking back into the device’s camera. “However, she was killed in the shootout. It was a Zakkili woman, and she tried to detonate a sizable explosive during the firefight.”

“Eager to cover up evidence and take my soldiers down with her, perhaps. It matters not. Get me everything you can about the circumstances leading up to the bombing, Mikka,” Nalyra commanded, and Tor’laen saw the little image of her leaning closer to the camera on the device’s screen.

“Will do, Nalyra.” Mikka turned to the sergeant, but the woman was already crouched down next to the terrorist once more, the bound woman wincing as Rila sifted through her memories.

“This is a major piece off the board,” Vessa said as Mikka walked away from the prisoners, and Tor’laen imagined he could almost hear Nalyra holding back a sigh as he followed. More Dominion phrasing.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

“Yes, this does provide a measure of safety and relief to Orphila’s citizens,” the Crown Daughter agreed.

Mikka eyed the growing pile of explosives that her soldiers were retrieving from the fabricators. Some had been in the final stages of construction, maybe only hours away from being viable bombs.

“That’s a lot of planned attacks. It was lucky we busted these fuckers when we did.”

The words sounded wrong in Tor’laen’s ears — his mind going back to Soreth, as she pulled the planted memories from the Taken shooter.

“No.”

The conversation stopped. Mikka looked to the Ydani, turning the communicator to catch his image as well.

“This was not luck,” he continued. “We were led to find these terrorists, at this specific time.”

“Another party wanted them eliminated. Not just us.” Nalyra caught on immediately. “They used the Aegis to do so, sending the evidence to us directly. How dare they think to use my forces for this?” She hissed the words, her ire palpable.

“So we were fighting foes on two fronts, then,” Tor’laen reasoned. “A second enemy was hiding behind the scenes while we responded to the overt threat.”

“Another group would explain how these terrorists got access to the blueprints for those explosives,” added Nivi. “But why would they betray them? Weren’t they working together?”

“We’re assuming that these two parties are operating with a shared goal.” On the communicator’s screen, he could see Vessa shake her head. “I think not. Judging by the state of these insurgents, it would seem far more likely that they were simply being used.”

“And then discarded, when they stopped being beneficial,” Tor’laen said, his voice grim.

“Perhaps these hidden foes do not want Orphila to fall.” Nalyra’s expression was thoughtful as she tapped a finger against the side of her chin.

“They just took advantage of the chaos these fuckers were going to cause, maybe?” Mikka suggested.

“If they had no more use for the insurgents, would that not mean that they have already accomplished their goal?” Nalyra asked. Only silence met her question, no one present having an answer.

“LT? We got, uh…we got something over here.” The voice came in over Tor’laen’s earpiece, on the squad’s comm channel.

Mikka exchanged a look with Tor’laen and beckoned, motioning for him to follow. The Ydani tailed the Lieutenant Commander as they weaved through the room, dodging around Armswomen and furniture. In the far corner of the workspace, there were two Zakkili crouched down, nearly hidden from view, looking something over. As they drew close, Tor’laen recognized Saia as one of the Armswomen.

“What you got for me, Corporal?” Mikka asked, bringing the communicator up and focusing the camera to keep the command staff in the loop.

The two soldiers were examining an odd-looking device, tucked underneath a desk. It was some kind of miniaturized console, with a pair of screens on its front side, and an angled screen below them, which looked like it was meant to accept the user’s inputs. The top of it was covered in a complex array of transmitters and receivers, far more advanced than Tor’laen had ever seen before. It looked absurdly out of place, far more advanced than the civilian-grade equipment throughout the room.

Saia hesitantly reached forward, perhaps looking to turn the device on.

“Do not touch that!”

Nivi’s demand froze everyone in place, the engineer’s voice suddenly stripped of its usual cheerful eagerness.

“I mean, uh, please don’t let any of your Armswomen touch that, Mikka,” she continued, sounding a little sheepish.

“Yeah, sure thing.” Mikka waved the two soldiers away from the device, both of them exchanging puzzled looks and shrugs. “Is it some kind of detonator, or something?”

“No, nothing dangerous.” The engineer shook her head. “At least, not directly. Oh, Maker…that is something civilians should not have access to…”

“What is it, Nivi?” Nalyra asked the question they were clearly all thinking.

“It lets you access the Q-comm network and send messages or initiate a call,” the engineer explained. “But it doesn’t leave a network log, or server-side record of it. And it can’t be monitored like normal Q-comm activity.”

Nalyra’s brows contracted dangerously.

“You are saying this machine allows for clandestine use of the Q-comm network?”

“Yeah, basically.” Nivi nodded. “And I’d bet a measure’s pay that if you activate it without the proper credentials or biometrics, the thing will basically destroy itself, or at least the components inside will get fried.”

“Damn,” Mikka swore, backing another step away from the device. “Well, I guess now we know how these fuckers had such good blueprints and intel.”

“I’ll send two of my staff down to take a look at it, Mikka. Hopefully they can bypass any kind of necessary authentication, and maybe even pull the device’s local cache, if it has one. Can you get them an escort?” Nivi asked.

“Just call for Sergeant Kinna. She’ll get you some Armswomen. I’ll keep them safe once they get down here.”

Tor’laen stared at the device. This was too clean. The terrorists had intel and tech they shouldn’t have had access to, and here was the answer to that question, perfectly delivered for them to find. First the memories inside the unwilling shooter’s head, and now this. Someone was leading them around by the nose, pulling the Aegis in whatever direction they pleased. It was infuriating. The Ydani was far more used to, and comfortable with, problems that could be solved with tungsten slugs. Not…whatever this mess of espionage was.

“However, this does work in our favor.” Nalyra’s voice pulled the Ydani from his contemplations. “Now I will have good news to announce after my sister’s remembrance ceremony.”

“You’re still planning to come planetside?” Tor’laen asked, his tone sharper than he intended.

His shoulders went rigid. He had overstepped. The Ydani expected a rebuke, but it never came.

“I must attend that ceremony, Tor’laen,” the Crown Daughter replied quietly. “If the Aegis is in orbit, and I am not seen there, it will have further-reaching consequences than you can imagine.” She sat up a bit straighter on the screen. “The destruction of this terrorist group lessens the danger I may face. It is a win we must take, regardless of other factors.”

She knew. Tor’laen didn’t have to reiterate the competence of the capital building bombing or the necessary psychic strength needed to Take the unwilling shooter, and how these terrorists had neither. Nalyra already knew. She knew, and had to take the risk anyway. The burden of command. The responsibility of leadership.

“Yes, Crown Daughter,” he answered simply.