The scope of Freeground is massive, and I think how massive is well hinted at in this chapter, where the commander of the Order of Eden Fleet speaks with one of his most able commanders. Through this chapter we get a little more of a picture of how much territory the Order of Eden has taken, and where they're headed next.
Writing the Beast has always been an interesting proposition. He has abilities and senses that humans simply can't, and his perception of reality is always twisting a little as he becomes a creature made from many different species that is forcefully balanced using framework technology. He's an unnatural being with a strangely familiar perspective.
Work on Broadcast 10: Freeground continues, and I'm happy with what I have so far. Here's this week's preview chapter, enjoy!
Spinward Fringe Broadcast 10: Freeground Preview Part 5
The Beast In Repose
The Overlord could sense Fleet Admiral Dron the
instant the door slipped open. Clark Patterson rested in a pool set in the
middle of his ready quarters. The warm, viscous high nutrient solution relaxed
him. Clear thought was easy to accomplish in the thick bath.
He examined the scent of the Fleet Admiral, clean,
purely human. He always found the lack of fear in the man remarkable, most
humans carried at least a hint of it with them whenever they were in his presence.
Instead there was confidence, and his curiosity was so intense, it should have
been the first thing he noticed. Interpreting the nuances in the scents of
humans was easy if you had enough time around them. It was a talent he’d always
be grateful to the issyrian race for. The man had also recently been through a
vibro shower.
“Sir, I have a significant report from Haven Shore,”
Dron said into the perfect darkness.
The lights turned up just enough for Clark to see him
with his normal eyes, and he stood.
“I’m sorry to disturb your rest, Sir,” the Fleet
Admiral said, “but this is important enough for me to report personally and
immediately.”
“I understand,” Clark replied. Still, no fear from the
man, but his apology was sincere enough. He could sense his sympathy. “Please,
render your report, Fleet Admiral.” He gestured to a half circle of wood framed
seats facing the pool.
Dron moved to the seating but stood in front of it
instead of sitting. “I’m afraid we’ve had forty-nine spies on Haven Shore go
dark. Citadel reports that they’re missing someone too. They were all
attempting to gain entry to a fast track officer training program for Triton
Fleet. We have copies of three of their qualification tests, as well as the
location of two testing facilities, but that’s the last of our intelligence. I
don’t expect we’ll be hearing from any of those assets again.”
“They couldn’t remain hidden forever. Did any of our
people get in?”
“It’s unlikely,” Dronn said. “Our intelligence
suggests that those were all of the assets who could make an early attempt at
entering the academy. The rest are in minor positions, most not even in Haven
Shore proper. I’m certain a memory scan was used to reveal the applicants true
purpose and experiences. The remainder of our operatives will be discovered if
Haven Shore begins making surface memory scans standard across the populace.”
“How many assets do we have left on Tamber, exactly?”
“Thirteen. All of them are low-level. The two we had
in the Rangers were also discovered because they applied for the Officer
Program.”
“Tell General Ohnen to send the soft elimination
signal, I don’t want any more assets captured with their memories of the Order
or our fleet intact,” Clark ordered.
“Yes, sir. I’ll send the message using a secure, high
speed drone immediately.”
“Has there been any word on Shozo?”
“I’m afraid that we’ve verified that she was killed
aboard the Fallen Star during Citadel’s attack on Kambis. There is a report of
one survivor, a low ranking member of the pod named Yiriu. We’ve determined
that she has built a home on one of the unsettled coasts near Haven Shore, and
is attracting other issyrians.”
“At least one of them found a home,” Clark said,
sitting on the edge of his pool, a very human posture. There it was again from
the Fleet Admiral, that whiff of sympathy. Did the man think he look tired?
Sad? Vulnerable? “Are you still confident in the strategy we will be using in
our search for the Primary Freeground Station segment?”
“Yes, this will work if we keep with it,” Dronn said.
“I must say your recent orders surprise me.”
“The order to destroy Freeground,” Clark confirmed.
“Yes. If you don’t mind me prying, Overlord, I was
under the impression that you once wanted Freeground and especially the
original crew of the First Light left alone. It was a point of study before I
met you, and the reason why I expected to be executed the first time you met
me.”
“I considered it,” Clark said. “I had a lot of time to
think it through as I travelled to your shipyards. The assault you arranged on
Freeground forced me to face something about my old home. The people I loved
there are gone. The government, and the individuals that are responsible for
the murder of my sister and my exile are still there. There is a piece of
instinctive knowledge amongst the Issyrians that relates to this. Once one of
their number grows to a certain age in isolation the impurities that they took
on over the years begin to infect the surrounding flesh. Their ability to expel
toxins and rotting tissue is the first to go when they are away for too long,
and they begin to rot from the inside. It’s a miserable existence, and it can
take decades for the solitary issyrian to die. Many of them leave the water
behind so they may dehydrate in the sun instead of suffering through the slow
death of gradual necrosis. Freeground should have left the water and dried out
a century ago, or found its way back to human civilization to revitalize.
Backward ideas and xenophobia ruined a strong culture, and I’d rather force it
into extinction than watch it ail on for decades longer. My revenge on them for
costing me everyone I loved as a human is a fitting end.”
“What about the predictions made by the Oracle Base’s
Prescient Analysis Software? Didn’t it predict instability in several sectors
if Freeground fell? I know that’s what I was working against while our allies
began their assault.”
“You were successful. The limited stability your
efforts provided in that region using the Vindyne assets you were able to take
control of were enough. Even if they weren’t, I’m not as obsessed with
prescient technology as my predecessor was. He let whispers from the future
guide him to madness and ruin. He forgot that a few tips from a machine cannot
take the place of good strategy and being prepared for the worst outcomes.”
“I couldn’t agree more, Overlord,” Dron said. “Thank
you for telling me. Do you think the First Light crew are no longer significant
in matters here? They’re still famous, beacons for resistances wherever we go.”
“Those people, the people who once crewed the First
Light no longer exist. Jacob is gone, Ayan’s body rests with Wheeler, why he
wanted it is a mystery to me, but she is dead nevertheless. Jason and Laura
have been gone for some time now, and the rest have joined Jacob in his
delusion that they can defeat us. All the while Carl Anderson plots, and
builds, and insinuates himself into a new position of power. No one injured
Clark Patterson more deeply. The First Light crew are nothing but shadows. They
were a dream, and like all dreams we lose our grip on them once we wake, the
details slip from our minds like water through our fingers. I’ll stand on Haven
Shore, and I’ll chain Carl Anderson to a post as the first Edxi brood ships
land there. Tamber will be devoured as penance for the defiance of their
people.”
“Sir,” Dron said, sympathy and awe oozing into the air
around him. “I’m grateful to you for sharing your thoughts. These insights are
helpful, now I have a better idea of what level of restraint I should take
while developing our plans going forward.”
“You don’t have to grovel, Dron. I enjoy speaking to
you. Your mind is always open, and you’ve never failed to understand me. That
is why it pains me a little to send you to the Glorious. It’s time you took
command of your own battle group. The plan remains the same while we search for
Freeground. We scout the nebula for sites where we can leave bases behind so
our enemies cannot hide here. Is the main fleet still set to arrive on time to
develop sections of the nebula?”
“They will be able to send resources and manpower to
sites we’ve marked for development next week. We should have complete control
of the Iron Head Nebula in five months.”
“Three. We need to make this space ours in thre so we
can continue moving into the sector beyond. Former Vindyne space must be
connected to Regent Galactic’s seat of power before the British Alliance can
drive a wedge between them and extend the war by years, perhaps decades.”
“Yes Sir, I agree, Sir. I think you for your trust in
this, Overlord. When would you like me to take command of the Glorious?”
“I’ve spoken to the Admiral of the Glorious Battle Group.
He would like two days to prepare a proper welcome, and the journey will take
one.”
“I’ll leave tomorrow morning then,” Dron said. “Thank
you again, Overlord. I will make the Glorious Battle Group the greatest in the
fleet. Except for yours, that is.”
“No, do your best to surpass me and my success,” Clark
said. “I could use a challenge.”
