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“We’re being co-opted,” Captain Wilson began, “for a joint operation with the FIA.”
The announcement made me perk up and pay closer attention. We stood in the ready room as a holo-display popped up, displaying what looked to be a large compound.
“This is a facility owned, officially, at least, by the Brahui Corporation, on the planet Urkusk, near the border with the Commerce Sector. But the FIA has uncovered intel, at a high cost, I’m told, that it’s a shell corporation for the Xanos Reapers.”
I remembered that name from something my father or Isabelle had mentioned, but I couldn’t tip my hand. Instead I raised my hand. “The Xanos Reapers, sir?”
“I was getting to it, Private. The Xanos Reapers are classified as a terrorist organization. They’re believed to have ties with the Cult of Rae, which, before you ask, worship some ancient god of the Krai’kesh and work to do his ‘will’ in this galaxy. Bunch of hoo-ha if you ask me, but not any crazier than the other religions out there, I suppose.”
Not wanting to argue the merits of religions, I kept my mouth shut and waited.
Captain Wilson raised an eyebrow. “Not going to take the bait. All right then, back to business. The Xanos Reapers are believed to have had a hand in designing the virus that hit Galatia IV. A sensitive topic for many of you, I suspect.”
Nods came from my fellow Delta Company Rangers. I found myself nodding too. If we could find who was responsible for turning us into undead it would go a long way toward getting justice. While millions had been turned into undead, millions more remained dead, and the genocide deserved avenging.
“This is our first big lead and a hit on this facility could yield information on where the virus was manufactured. As this is a joint ops, Deputy Director Thorpe and other FIA field operatives will be joining us.”
My heart leapt at that revelation. Deputy Director meant Isabelle. I wondered if Kimberly would be with her, too.
“The strike will begin at nineteen hundred tonight,” he said, laying out the plans.
***
ISABELLE SAT ACROSS the aisle from me, wearing a black body-hugging synth suit with the helmet down. She didn’t acknowledge me, other than winking when she’d first spotted me. Right now, she looked bored, not fidgeting or talking, eyes closed as if she were meditating. Next to her sat my other friend, Kimberly, looking more nervous and taking turns gawking at the Rangers and the interior of the Daedalus. Her gaze had passed over me numerous times, but if Isabelle had disclosed my identity to her she was doing a good job of hiding it.
Rachel, a voice, Isabelle’s voice, I realized, came in my head. Not like comms, but like Jarvis. Do you copy?
Isabelle? I asked, incredulous. How are you communicating through my implant like that? My cousin hadn’t moved, still with her eyes closed.
I2I, or Implant to Implant, communication. It uses a different communication network, which is more heavily encrypted. We can’t be eavesdropped on.
Oh. Well, that’s good. I paused. How have you been? I saw your father a few months back - he helped me adjust to my new powers.
Yes, I was briefed on your powers. I’m glad you survived, and that’s quite an interesting power you have.
I’d rather have developed shifting, or magic, I grumbled.
Well, you’re one of a kind, now. Just like your father.
How is my father, anyway?
He is well. There’s been political pressure from the Senate, so he’s been on a tour across the Federation for several months.
A tour? Talking about what?
Recruitment numbers are down, so he’s talking about the importance of a strong military and talking up the benefits of joining the armed forces. It’s hard though, when we’re not actively at war, to get people riled up.
The Empire is still out there, I pointed out. They’re still a threat. And this Cult of Rae and their lackeys are a threat, right?
The war with the Empire is a cold war, my cousin pointed out. And wars on terror don’t engender the same level of fervor because there’s no clear target. Hence your father going out talking about the coming threat of the Krai’kesh and our need for constant vigilance.
I couldn’t resist rolling my eyes. The same Krai’kesh that have been “coming” for two thousand years. I tried to put a sarcastic emphasis on coming, and hoped it translated as well through the implant.
Yes, which explains the push-back he’s received not only from some Senators but from some of the people he speaks to. You can only cry that the sky is falling so many times before people become deaf to it.
Is Kimberly doing well? I asked, changing the subject. Did you tell her about me?
She’s doing well, learning a lot and she’s been through a lot. I don’t have time to recount it all, but we almost lost her a couple missions ago. She was instrumental in getting us this intel, though. As for her knowing your identity, that’s above her clearance level. The fewer people who know your identity, the less risk there is to you.
A feeling of melancholy washed over me. Sadness that my long-time friend wouldn’t recognize me in a disguise. Logically, I knew that was the point, but emotionally it made me feel lonelier. I cleared my proverbial mental throat and responded. Yes, that’s probably for the best. You have what, a dozen agents with you?
Two dozen, all from the local FIA office. I like to travel light, she offered as way of explanation. Hence I didn’t lug an FIA strike team from Tar Ebon with me. And maybe I wanted to see you again.
That made me smile, which would look odd to outside observers, but I didn’t care. The Rangers won’t let you down.
I’m counting on that.
“Three minutes till reversion to real space,” the Tactical Commander announced. “All passengers, strap in for rapid acceleration. Crew, man battle stations.”
I pulled the straps over my shoulders and clicked them together to form a chest harness. They were uncomfortable, so I avoided wearing them until necessary.
The three minutes passed quick, then a jolt and verbal confirmation from the Tactical Commander confirmed our emergence from shadow space into real space.
See you on the ground, my cousin said, then she grabbed Kimberly’s arm and disappeared in a cloud of shadowy smoke.
That wasn’t part of the plan, I thought. Though Captain Wilson had only told them their part of the attack plan - he probably wasn’t privy to the FIA’s plans. The half dozen FIA agents in our compartment didn’t seem surprised at the disappearance of their Deputy Director, so I assumed it was part of the plan.
A second jolt rocked the Daedalus and I was slammed back in my seat as the ship rapidly accelerated. Normally the inertial dampeners would stop the G-forces, but I’d learned there were times when the ship accelerated quickly, going from a velocity of zero to high max speed, that the dampeners would be temporarily overwhelmed. If we hadn’t been strapped in I would have been hurled about like a rag doll, likely causing damage to me or others. Even using anti-gravity in a situation like that could be dangerous, as then the rear of the ship would slam into me while I floated with no velocity. To solve that, I could summon a gravity ball, perhaps attaching it to a point in the front, and have it drag me along at the same velocity as the accelerating ship.
“Entering atmosphere,” the Tactical Commander announced a few minutes later. The ship rattled as it went, then the ride smoothed out. “Nearing the facility. Gunships, launch!”
The display of the outside of the ship showed four gunships streaming toward the facility we’d seen on the holo-map.
Anti-aircraft fire commenced, with shells hurtling skyward and exploding below and around the gunships and the Daedalus. Fortunately, the shields shimmered, absorbing the shrapnel released by the explosions. One gunship was hit and started leaning to one side but stabilized and continued on its path.
No sooner had the anti-aircraft fire begun than it stopped. Smoke rose from the locations of the guns. That must be Isabelle’s work.
The Daedalus sailed toward the fortress, which had been built into the side of a mountain. The gunships were already in position, pouring lasers and bullets toward unseen targets.
At last our ship took position overhead. “Rangers and agents to the launch bay,” the Tactical Commander announced.
I unstrapped and followed the rest to the launch bay. There we lined up and grabbed our parachutes. Donning my parachute, I followed the other Rangers and FIA agents and leapt out of the ship. Pulling the string, my parachute opened and I sailed down to the surface.
Enemies ran here and there, shooting up at the descending soldiers while we returned fire.
I spotted Isabelle below. She was swirling among a cluster of enemies, alternating between slashing with her blade and firing her pistol, disappearing in puffs of shadowy smoke, only to reappear moments later behind one enemy or another.
I tucked and rolled to absorb the impact and then raced to the edge of the building, choosing my first target and firing.
There were a lot of enemies, but we had the high ground, the element of surprise and gunships as fire support. The enemy was falling back to their inner sanctum.
Once the courtyard was clear, I descended and approached Isabelle, who stood with her arms crossed. “It’s about time you grunts arrived.”
“You could go on without us, ma’am,” I said.
“Yes, but where’s the fun in that?” She tossed me a mischievous grin, then sobered. “Plus, there is an anti-magic field in place, preventing me from shifting beyond those doors.” She nodded toward the front doors of the building.
“Oh, so you lose some of your defensive ability,” I observed.
“More than a little, yes. I can’t turn myself partly transparent to avoid projectiles, can’t shift to move quickly, can’t swap out weapons easily.”
“So, you’re like a normal soldier?”
She groaned. “Yes, I’m a normal soldier who’s been fighting for two thousand years,” she said sarcastically.
I chuckled. “I should go, before someone notices us talking.” It wouldn’t do for Captain Wilson to see me talking to the Deputy Director of the FIA and either chew me out or wonder why I was talking to her and ask about the content of our conversation.
Isabelle, taking that as her cue, strode toward the door to the inner facility. Her two dozen agents, which had been reduced by a handful, along with the remaining seventy-fifth battalion Rangers, followed. The corpses of our enemies littered the ground.
Kimberly sprinted across the field to catch up with her trainer. She wiped her mouth, and looked paler than usual, suggesting she’d been throwing up. Had this been her first mass combat situation? She didn’t spare a glance for me, which forestalled me from approaching her to ask what was wrong.
A grenade shattered the glass door and myself, Isabelle and the other Rangers led the way inside. A glance back showed Kimberly remaining behind with the FIA agents. They followed at a safe distance.
The moment I passed through the shattered doorway, I felt something change. I could still feel the bundle of my power but it felt stronger somehow. Would the anti-magic field affect me the same as it did Isabelle? I felt a temptation to test whether I could still use my power, but there was no time to stop.
A few security forces fired at us, but fell back or died as a hailstorm of lasers and bullets hurled back at them.
Inside the fortress, it spread into a labyrinth of corridors stretching in seemingly every direction. “Does anyone have a map?” I asked through the squad comms, part sarcastically, part seriously.
“One of our agents sent what we believe was a complete map but it’s turning out to not be accurate,” Isabelle said as she led us to a dead-end. “They must have planted false data for her to find.”
“Is the agent still alive?” I asked.
“Sadly, no. She was killed shortly after providing this intel.”
“Stop pestering the Deputy Director,” Captain Wilson said over the comm.
“Yes, sir,” I responded, holding back a sarcastic remark.
“Should we spread out?” Julianna asked as we passed through a blast door into a new corridor, giving me a wink. She had my back. The corridor struck me as odd, for it had no doors along it, while a door at the far end sat closed.
“No. That could be what they want. I think this could be a shifting maze. If I had my powers, I could...” a roar interrupted my answer.
The door at our rear slid shut, almost slicing off the legs of one Ranger before he could leap out of the way. Half our group, including Kimberly, stood on the other side of the door.
The comms erupted with chatter, with the sergeants reporting what had happened. “The door won’t open,” one Ranger said, trying the door controls. “Should we try to shoot them?”
“Press your glove to the console, see if your implant can hack it,” a sergeant ordered.
The Ranger did, but then stiffened as a zap sound filled the air. He crumpled to the ground. “Booby-trapped,” the sergeant said, cursing.
“I have a feeling this was intentional,” Isabelle remarked in a cool, calm tone. She turned her gaze to the far door. “And I fear this wasn’t the only surprise awaiting us.”
Her fear was justified a moment later as the door at the far end of the corridor slid up, revealing half a dozen or more undead. Only, they weren’t the conscious undead like me. No, the skin missing from their faces, one missing an eye and another missing the skin from his arm, showing bone at one end, suggested these were the mindless variety.
The lead undead let out a feral roar and ran, not lumbered, toward us.
“Open fire!” Isabelle shouted, needlessly, for the team had already begun firing. Bullets tore through the flesh of the feral undead while lasers burned into them.
The lead monster fell, but the others kept on, showing no concern for their fallen comrade. They would be on us in seconds, despite the length of the corridor.
“Grenade!” one Ranger called, tossing a grenade in the path of the charging onslaught. It exploded seconds later, sending shrapnel slashing into the walking corpses, with minimal effect.
“We do this the hard way, then,” Isabelle said, shouldering her rifle and withdrawing two swords from the scabbards on her back. They gleamed in the bright light of the corridor. She stood at the fore of the enemy assault, fearless in the face of possible death. Had she forgotten her diminished power in this place?
The first foe reached Isabelle and found themselves decapitated by a blurring casual swipe of her blade. The second blade thrust through the chest of the second enemy.
Possessing only a rifle and daggers, I chose to try to fire past my cousin. I pulled the trigger and electro-magnetically propelled bullets streaked through the air and slammed into the reanimated enemies further down the hall.
More of the enemies were running through the doorway. I estimated a few dozen. Who knew how many of the mindless creatures lay in the facility? It was clear our foe had laid a trap for us, using the monsters as their cannon fodder to rebuff our attack. Or were they trying to buy time for reinforcements to arrive?
Our backs were pressed against the wall, or door, in this case. We had nowhere to run. It was fight or die.
Isabelle stabbed another undead with both blades at once, kicking him back into his comrades, buying a moment of breathing room. Another grenade sailed toward the rear of the enemy column and sent a few more toppling to the ground, though they got up moments later.
“Rachel, does your power work in here?” my cousin shouted through the comm to be heard over the din.
“Let me try!” I said into my comm. Stepping back to let another Ranger take my place, I closed my eyes and envisioned summoning a graviton ball. As I reopened my eyes, the orb appeared as commanded, though it seemed darker than I remembered. “I can do it!”
“Good,” she replied grimly. “Give them hell.”
I moved the ball ahead of Isabelle and strengthened it. I felt air move past my face as the orb started to emit ever-stronger gravitational pulses. I poured more power into it, willing it to become a full-blown singularity.
I heard gasps as the singularity flared to life, becoming visible to people other than me. It was likely the first time many of them had seen me use my powers for anything other than flying, which would have seemed magical because they couldn’t see the gravitational anomaly I followed.
Seizing the singularity in my mind’s eye, I pushed the whirlpool of gravitons forward. The first enemy it touched turned to multi-colored mush and swirled around like water being sucked into a narrow drain. I felt it growing in strength, threatening to expand beyond its current diameter, and pushed my mind more firmly around it, forcing it to retain its current dimensions. Within seconds, the singularity returned to its customary pure black color and I felt more tired than I had a moment before.
I shoved the miniature black hole forward and swallowed up three more enemies in rapid succession, which almost caused me to fall to my knees as I grappled with the rapid increase in power contained within the singularity. But I held on, knowing if I lost control of the singularity and it continued absorbing mass or energy it could grow ever-larger until it swallowed the planet. I was the only power standing between my creation and possible disaster.
Moving more cautiously with the whirlpool of death, I crushed two more and finally it was at the far door. Here goes nothing, I thought, shoving the whirlpool toward the door. No sooner had the inky darkness touched the metal of the frame than the entire doorway twisted and ripped from the walls with an ear-wrenching screech. In the aftermath, the walls of the corridor framed empty space.
With that last exertion, I knew I had to collapse the black hole in on itself now or I wouldn’t have enough power to. Summoning the last of my strength, I pushed on the edges of the singularity like one might push flattened dough, condensing the energy with the expectation that it would grow unstable and, devoid of new sources of energy, collapse in on itself.
At first, it didn’t seem my action would work. I gritted my teeth as I railed mentally against the power of my creation. But I pushed once, twice, three times and finally, after four agonizing seconds, the black hole wobbled and then winked out of existence, leaving only stunned silence.
“Amazing,” Isabelle said in an admiring tone. “Let’s press forward. Did anyone get that bloody door open yet?” she asked through the channel.
“Negative,” a voice replied. “We’re bringing up a tech crew, but it might still be booby-trapped, so we’re not taking any chances.”
“Fine. Make yourselves useful, though, and look around for any points of interest. If you can pinpoint the nullification generator, I would be most appreciative. Once it’s destroyed I can get everyone out quickly.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the man on the other end replied.
A few straggling undead charged through the opening my power had created, but they were cut down by concentrated fire. Now that the element of surprise had been lost, they had no chance to cross the distance.
Isabelle led us down the corridor, stepping over the unmoving corpses of our enemies, to a junction. “Which way?” she mused aloud to herself.
“Let me try something. Ma’am,” I amended a second later. I had to remember my cover identity and not talk so familiarly to her.
She turned and raised an eyebrow at me. “Go ahead.”
I closed my eyes and cast out my senses. If my hypothesis was correct, I could pinpoint...there. I raised my arm and pointed left, toward the direction I felt the nullification generator, which cast out waves of gravity. “The generator is that way.”
“Are you certain?” she asked.
“Yes. I can feel the gravitons pulsing off it.”
“Gravitons? What made you think to try to sense it?”
“I felt my power grow stronger when I entered the building, which coincided with the magic nullification field. I theorized that the magic nullification field either uses gravitons to suppress magic, and your power, or, at the very least, this particular model is doing so.”
She inclined her head. “I’m impressed, Private. Left it is.”
Julianna punched me on the shoulder. “Show off.”
“Shut up,” I said, attempting to sound hurt.
Isabelle spoke through the squadron comms as she walked. “Captain Wilson, we believe we’ve found the generator.”
“Good, because enemy reinforcements are inbound. I’m sorry, but I’m pulling the remaining troops out to mount a defense.”
“How long can you hold them?”
“I’ve launched our fighters, and our gunships are moving to intercept also, but the Daedalus wasn’t meant for prolonged fights, and the enemy has three squadrons and three corvettes moving in.”
They’ll be outnumbered, I thought. The Daedalus was only about as big as a corvette, which made it maneuverable but also no match for larger, or more numerous, capital ships.
“Do your best, and if you have to leave, do so.”
“We’re not going to leave you behind, Ma’am. And we don’t leave our soldiers behind.”
“That’s an order, Captain Wilson,” Isabelle snapped. “If it’s the Daedalus’ life and the lives of her crew on the line, get to safety. We’ll find our own way to safety.”
“Fine,” my CO said, not sounding pleased.
The left corridor at the junction wound its way deeper into the mountain, seeming to curve as it went. Here, doors lined the corridor infrequently, which meant our team had to split up and clear the rooms as we went, slowing things down. But better to do that than find enemies at our rear.
Most of the rooms were sleeping quarters, and vacant, with possessions remaining. Some looked like labs, but were cleared out. In a few rooms, we found men and women dressed like scientists. Isabelle ordered them to be brought along but insisted they wear stun cuffs.
At last we reached another junction. I pointed to the right, for I could now feel the residual energy emitted by the magic nullification generator radiating from that direction clearly.
Isabelle turned the corner and jumped back immediately. In front of her, rapid bursts of laser fire lit up the hallway, striking the walls and sizzling in the distance.
“Two laser turrets,” she reported. “Idiot,” she said, seemingly to herself. Everyone knew it was standard procedure to look before turning a corner. It felt odd to see her slip up. Being without her powers must be getting to her finally.
“I got something for it, ma’am,” one of my fellow Rangers offered, stepping forward with an RPG launcher.
Isabelle gestured. “Be my guest.”
The Ranger poked his RPG launcher around the corner while swiveling the screen to see what the tip of the weapon was aiming at. He pulled the trigger and a grenade sailed through the air, landing between the two turrets. The grenade exploded moments later, disabling them both.
Isabelle swept around the corner, pistols spitting bullets to confirm the operators of the turrets were well and truly dead. The blast door behind them remained closed.
“Rachel, do your thing on this door,” she said. “We don’t have time for explosives.”
I approached and touched my hand to the metal. Then I summoned a ball of gravitons and expanded it to singularity strength in the space of a moment. Only this time, I made it vertical instead of horizontal. It consumed the door and started to consume the walls, following a circular pattern.
Laser fire from people in the room faded into the singularity.
I stepped to the side and, maintaining my control on the baby singularity, prepared to close it. “I’m collapsing it in three, two, one,” I said, as way of warning.
The instant the singularity collapsed into a pinprick of darkness Isabelle moved in, firing again. By the time I followed her inside, two guards were dead and three technicians had hands up in surrender. One hadn’t surrendered, however, and was typing furiously on the console. A trash can icon with files flying into it on the holo-display made it clear what he was trying to do.
Isabelle was having none of it, however, and a bullet to the head stopped the technician. She then approached the console and canceled the deletion. “Somebody cuff those three,” she waived vaguely at the techs who’d surrendered. She produced a storage drive and stuck it into an open port on the computer system. The holo-display switched from trashing files to copying them to Isabelle’s storage drive. “Rachel, find a way to turn that nullification field off.”
While the other Rangers secured the new prisoners, I approached an empty terminal. While I appreciated being given an important job, I worried her over-reliance on me might tip off my true identity. I did have the same name in my pseudonym as my real name. Then again, Rachel was a popular name.
I searched through the menu options until I found a control for the nullification field. Nothing indicated that it was anything more than what it was called. Could it be that all nullification fields blocked magic by emitting gravitons? I’d have to ask my Uncle Jason about it next time I saw him. Assuming we made it out of here. I hadn’t heard that the Daedalus had retreated yet, but I knew it could be any minute. I switched off the field and immediately felt my power grow weaker - back to normal, rather. “It’s off,” I said.
Isabelle didn’t answer, her eyes focusing on something displayed on the holo-display. Project Necromancy. And the icon beneath it, the symbol of the United Federation of Planets.
I stepped up beside her. “What is Project Necromancy? It has a Federation logo.”
“It’s nothing,” she said, hurriedly closing the file. She wouldn’t meet my eyes.
My eyes narrowed. “I don’t believe you. What’s Project Necromancy?”
“We don’t have time to discuss it,” she said, still not meeting my eyes. “The field is down, I can shift us all out of here. Gather up!” she ordered. She looked at me, leaned close and whispered, “We can discuss it later.”
“Damn right we will,” I whispered back. While I didn’t know the contents of the file, the name sounded suspiciously like what happened to Galatia IV - resurrection of the dead.
Everyone gathered in the room and then we shifted.
***
WE’D MADE IT TO THE Daedalus just in time to make for the void and, in this case comfort, of space, with enemy forces in close pursuit. Fortunately, we’d only lost four fighters and one gunship. How the enemy had been able to mount such a large defense on a Federation-controlled planet was a question I had, but the burning question about what Project Necromancy consisted of superseded it.
Following the debriefing, I stopped in the hallway. Jarvis, call Isabelle.
One moment, Jarvis replied.
Yes, Rachel? Isabelle responded a few moments later.
We need to talk, I said, thankful that emotion was hard to convey through implants. I was barely keeping my anger in check.
Meet me at my quarters, she said before closing the line.
I stormed to her quarters and knocked, heedless of who might see. The hallway was empty, however.
The door slid open. “Come in,” Isabelle said in a neutral tone.
I stormed in, eyes seeking out my cousin, who sat behind the desk. She’d been given Captain Wilson’s office temporarily by virtue of her rank. I waited until the door slid shut behind me to speak. “Do you have a moment?” I wanted to shout my question again, but figured that wouldn’t be productive. Despite my real identity, she was still my elder.
“Please, sit down,” she said, gesturing to a chair in front of the desk.
I sat. An awkward silence settled over the room. “You can’t tell me that project is nothing.”
My cousin sighed. “No, it’s not nothing.”
“Then what is it?” I clenched my fists.
“What I’m about to tell you is top secret information, Rachel. If you were actually a private you would have been sent to the brig for asking me repeatedly or been told it’s above your clearance level.”
“But I’m not,” I said, gritting my teeth.
“No, you’re not, which is why we’re talking. But what I’m saying is, this information cannot leave this room. Can you agree to that?”
I grudgingly nodded.
“Good. Project Necromancy was a top-secret project to study the exact same thing the Xanos Reapers ended up engineering through the shell corporation Kimberly’s father worked for. Only...it was established over twenty years ago.”
“You’re saying the Federation knew about this virus twenty years ago?” I asked, incredulous.
“Not just knew about it...the Federation research department developed it.”
“So...Galatia IV was an inside job?” Rage built inside me.
My cousin held up her hand and shook it. “No, the research was lost when Icarus Station was destroyed. We thought that was the end of it. But we were...”
“Wait,” I interrupted. “Did you say Icarus Station? As in the Icarus Station my mother was in command of?”
Isabelle nodded sadly. “You wanted the truth. Yes, it is one and the same.”
“That was the secret she died protecting,” I said, realization dawning. “My father said she died protecting secrets that could never be allowed to fall into the wrong hands.”
“It was one of the secrets,” Isabelle agreed. “Every project on Icarus Station was top secret. It was easier to ensure secrecy that way, rather than having separate projects on different stations and risk interception of staff or materials while in transit between teams.”
I blinked back tears. “If the station was destroyed, how did Project Necromancy make it into the hands of the Xanos Reapers?”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to determine. We thought this secret had been buried with...” she stopped.
“With my mother in her grave,” I finished, bitterness creeping into my voice. “And she died for nothing, since the secret got out anyway.”
“She did not die for nothing,” Isabelle said, heat in her voice. “Her death delayed the virus being unleashed by evil parties for almost twenty years, and several other projects being developed on that station remain buried. Her death was not in vain.”
I didn’t see it that way. Anger burned within me. Anger at my father for not telling me the truth. Anger that he allowed my mother to be put in such a position where she sacrificed her life for the Federation’s secrets. Anger that the Federation had even been researching the virus which ended up killing or ruining the lives of millions. I couldn’t speak. “Did my father know?” I had to ask - had to know.
Isabelle closed her eyes for a moment. “Yes. No top-secret projects are withheld from the supreme commander.”
“Or you,” I said out of spite. “That’s why you were worried when that popped up on the holo, wasn’t it? It proves the Xanos Reapers used the Federation’s research to engineer the virus.”
Isabelle’s silence was confirmation enough. “I didn’t know positively until today,” she said so quietly I almost didn’t hear her. “I’m sorry. It was for the greater good.” The armor she wore all the time was torn away as the shame of what the Federation had authorized overwhelmed her.
“Greater good,” I mocked, snorting. “Tell that to the families of the millions dead and to those left undead, hated and ostracized by society.” Without waiting for her response, I stood up, slammed the door control so hard the glass cracked, and left.