"Captain?" Azuric asked. "Titus!"
Jonathan's mind was yanked back to reality and he shook his head. "Son of a bitch!" The Captain forced himself to stand up with the help of the sturdy Valkryie and took a second to regain his balance. He felt physically sick at the sight of Erikâs ugly, mangled corpse lying on the floor several feet away from him. When memories of the former comrade in arms started to cloud his thoughts again, he quickly averted his eyes to Adam, who was being helped to his feet by Azuric.
âYou injured?â
âNah,â he said, only to grunt and grasp at his side. âWell, argh... not bad anyway.â Harrison took a few breaths, filling his lungs with steady gasps of fresh air. âI wasnât expecting biotics,â he managed to say. âSince when are husks-?â
âThat was no ordinary husk,â Azuric cut him off. âRemember, this is Cerberus weâre dealing with. They have ways of making the impossible quite possible.â
There was crackle in Titusâ earpeace before Ostranderâs voice boomed through. âCaptain; this is Cobalt Alpha. Do you read me?â
The stress in her voice made the Captain realize that she was probably trying to contact them during the fight. Either Eri- or the huskâs, Titus reminded himself, phenomenal biotics caused an interference in the comm channel, or the adrenaline simply wouldnât allow himself to hear anything else but the screaming and gunfire.
âGo ahead, Cobalt Alpha,â he said calmly.
âDo you require assistance. sir?â
Titus looked around the room for any other experiments that might jump out of the bulkheads at them. When he was sure the area was secure and they were safe again, he replied, âThatâs a negative. Weâve wrapped up here. Whatâs your status?â
âMultiple civvies and sec-po detained, Captain. Our sideâs clear.â
âCopy that. Escort the detainees back to the hangar bay. Break. Marathon Alpha.â
Connorâs voice chimed in with a response. âGo, sir.â
âDispatch Sierra Zero-Zero-Two-and-Four; have same RV Cobalt and take over detainee ops. Have Sierra Zero-Zero-One sweep starboard and Three sweep port.â
âPassing directives now, Captain.â
With orders given and the comm channel now clear, Titus looked over to his teammates, awaiting directives themselves. The Captain swung his Valkryie over his shoulder and let the rifle collapse in on itself and attach to the magnetic clips on the back of his armor before saying, âCome on, you two. Weâve got a nasty decision to make.â
The war room on the command deck was full. A single, large, circular chamber wrapped in tactical displays, real-time information and data feeds, support terminals, combat information analysts, and a host of other support personnel made up the life and blood of the room. Sensitive information constantly cycled through every haptic interface, scanned by busy Oracle intelligence operatives, and then carefully digested by both Oracle and Aurora brass. Anything that needed a final say would go straight to the captain, or, if he was unavailable, to Commander Taylor.
In the center of chamber was a circular war table, where a large blue haptic interface covered the top. A layout of the Daedalus system had been brought up, covering the entire display with critical information and details about every planet, moon, and station. Multiple individuals were huddled around the display, including Titus, Taylor, DeMarco and Harrison. Other faces included the Marathonâs lead intelligence analyst, Staff Lieutenant Rene Dike; Commander Rhodie, the squadron commander; and Major Rhonda Thomas, the Sierra fire teams commander.
âThis is the latest intel we have on Daedalus,â Lieutenant Dike announced in a calm manner. The averaged height woman was wearing her Alliance BDUs. The Captain noticed that she had kept the garments below the vest tightly pressed and looking sharp, with the hint of a lightly applied starch by the nearly perfect creases. There was no point to wearing them, given her MOS as an intelligence analyst, but he knew that most pencil pushers in the military did this because it was as close as they could get to living on the edge. He even wondered if this whole situation was possibly the first of its calibre for her.
âWe know there are least two Cerberus signatures in the system,â she continued. âOnly one, however, a cruiser-class, is showing up on scans.â
âWe know this for sure?â Rhodie inquired.
âYes, sir. If youâll see here,â Dike pointed to where evident conflict was taking place by the Alliance-tagged distress beacons in one area of the system, âweâve got multiple distress signals originating from this area, put out at the exact same time as these...â Her finger moved to a planet on the opposite side of the systemâs sun where more distress beacons were flashing. Nearby those same beacons was the Cerberus cruiser, designated by a light-gray four-arrow reticule. âConsidering we have no available scanning data of whatâs happening on the opposite end of the system from the cruiser, we can make a safe assumption that Cerberus has a stealth class over in that area.
Commander Taylor, who stood opposite from Titus across the war table, instantly raised her head with a serious are-you-thinking-what-Iâm-thinking? look. The Captain nodded his head. âThe Vindicator.â
âPardon, sir?â Dike asked.
Titus explained, âThe Cerberus frigate I commanded before defecting to Oracle. When I spoke with the Illusive Man, he said Commander Buchan.â He now spoke directly to Taylor. âWe left her on Omega... with the Vindicator.â
âI see,â Rhodie commented. âThen at least we wonât be flying in there totally blind.â
âFlying in?â Harrison spoke up, eyes showing how much he didnât approve of the idea at all. He then turned to Titus, âSir, what about stopping the Illusive Man from getting his hands on that research data? What about Lieutenant Kyle? Oracle has invested millions into that lab, and there are hundreds of innocents working there are now in harms way. The assets we have in Daedalus knew the risks when they signed their contract with Oracle. That Reaper data is a hundred times more important.â
âSo youâre suggesting we sacrifice an entire system to save some science experiment?â Major Thomas argued. âAs far as the majority of the galaxy is concerned, the Reapers are a myth. That âdataâ is likely a bunch of a false positives only playing with the imagination of a few hopeful eggheads.â
âEasy, Major,â Commander Taylor calmly intervened. âBoth targets are of great strategic importance. Whether or not theyâre eggheads or spooks, theyâre people... and theyâre people we need alive.â When the room had quieted, Taylor looked to Harrison. âLieutenant, you said earlier that thereâs an N7 at that research station?â
âAffirmative, maâam,â Adam said, doing his best to remain calm, even though it was evident he knew what Serena was about to suggest. âLieutenant Amanda Kyle. We graduated from the Villa together. Sheâs in the same Oracle attachment that Iâm in.â
Commander Taylor looked over to Titus, as did everyone else around the table, save for Adam, who was staring at the display over the war table with a blank expression.
âIf you ask me,â a random voice called out by surprise, forcing all in the room to turn their heads and see Benjamin Slatton leaning against a terminal in the shadows, âyouâll want to go for the system.â
âHow long have you been there?â Taylor asked with a quirked brow.
With a bit of a smirk, the Oracle commander shrugged his shoulders and pushed himself away from the terminal, casually walking over to the war table and placing himself between Rhodie and Thomas - both of whom gave him a quizzical stare of bewilderment.
âItâs an easier decision than you might think, Titus,â he said. âYou canât sacrifice a whole system simply to save data that can be rediscovered with time.â
This was not easy. In war, tough calls canât always be avoided. The facts and the costs had been laid out in front of him, and it was now up to him as the Marathonâs captain to decide which target they would go after. Daedalus was under attack, and if they delayed any longer, the entire system could be lost. Countless more innocents... Alliance, Oracle, Aurora, and non-combatants could be killed. On the other hand, if they go after Daedalus, they would be giving up valuable Reaper data; practically handing it over to the Illusive Man on a silver platter, only advancing Cerberusâ knowledge and, if the fight against Keownâs husk had anything to prove, their arsenal of biological weaponry.
But Titus has seen the trends of science from the combat boots of both uniforms. Heâs seen what Cerberus is capable of, and now heâs seeing what Oracle and the Alliance are capable of. If Cerberus gains a new technology, or a better weapon... the Alliance will find a way to counter it. The system comes first.
âCommander Rhodie,â Titus said, staring intently at the display over the war table.
The commanding office of the Marathonâs fighter and interceptor squadrons snapped to attention and held a sharp salute. âSir.â
âReady your pilots.â
âAye-Aye, Captain!â Rhodie replied, turning on heel to depart the war room.
âMajor Thomas.â
âSir,â the fire team commander replied with equal ferocity and discipline.
âMake sure your Sierra teams get some chow and resupply. Theyâll be heading back out.â
âAye-aye, sir!â
âDarcy!â
The helmsman had most likely been eavesdropping on the entire meeting as his reply was instantaneous. âDaedalus, sir?â
âDo it.â
âSetting course.â
âListen up,â Titus spoke aloud to the others remaining around the table. âI donât like it when my enemy forces me to make a decision like this. When we enter that system, we will give them no quarter.â His words were clear and precise. Their mission had been given to them. It was time to respond. âDismissed.â
The captainâs eyes looked into themselves through their reflection in the glass. As the Marathon travelled at FTL speeds to the nearest mass relay, Titus watched the shifting blue and violet lights wrap around the exterior of his ship through the window in his cabin. Such a display of magnificence deserved an orchestra of sounds, he thought; or a symphony. But in the abyss of silence around him, his mind was left to imagine the strings, the brass, and the woods. Eventually, though, it just became too much, and too difficult to bear.
Silence. He was surrounded by it. On the inside, he knew he was defeated, but on the outside he maintained that same all-is-well attitude. Only those close to him would be able to tell by the look in his eyes that all was indeed not well. For years now, he had tried to hold onto a strict set of core beliefs; values that he had taught himself a very long time ago as a marine in the trenches. Always do good. Always be just. They were the values he reminded himself of during the tough calls.
The Illusive Man had called him to the carpet. He had shown Titus just how arrogant he had become, and just how vulnerable he actually was. He hated his former employer, but he hated himself just as much. The Illusive Man was right. He had been a fool to think he was morally above everyone else. Some moral code I made, he thought.
A knock at his door woke him from his thoughts and Titus yelled, âItâs open!â The door opened with a smooth slide and hiss, revealing the young Braden to be standing on the other side of the threshold. âBraden?â Titus said. âIs something wrong?â
âI was going to ask you that,â the teenager replied. Titus eyed him for a moment, observing how much the kid had changed over the last several months; not just physically, but mentally. He had grown stronger, more intelligent.
âOh?â Titus asked, trying his best to downplay his obviously depressed mood.
Braden walked into further into the room, allowing the door to close behind him. With all the casual, nonchalant manner of an adolescent male, Reynolds moved over the small two-seater sofa in the quarters and collapsed onto the cushion, leaning back and placing an arm lazily over the armrest. âYup,â he finally said.
If Iâm about to be counseled by a kid..., Titus put a stop to the thought before it finished. Maybe thatâs exactly what he needed. No uniforms, no commanders, no intelligence analysts; but the simple mind of a child. True, Braden was far from being a child now, but he still had an optimistic outlook on life; and that optimism had only evolved into something greater ever since coming aboard Titusâ team and facing down his past. There were still a few shadows of the past haunting him, Titus was sure of that; but if anyone on the Marathon had a clear mind right now, it was him.
âTell me, Braden,â Titus began, âand be honest... Have I failed?â
Braden raised an inquisitive brow. âWhat do you mean?â
Titus looked back out of the window, returning his eyes to the blue shifts of the FTL travel. When he spoke, his voice was distant, but loud enough for the young man to hear. âI thought I could be the moral center of this crew. But the Illusive Man showed me that Iâm clearly not.â He turned back to Braden and with a saddened expression and defeated eyes, he said, âI tried to protect you.â
There was a long silence between the two of them. Titus found himself unable to look at the kid any longer and let his eyes fall to the floor of his cabin. He had never felt more ashamed about anything. For a soldier to admit defeat with such remorse was... unbecoming.
âYeah,â Braden finally spoke. âYou did.â Titus was sure he would have felt some kind of pain in his heart in response if there was any feeling left in him at all; but when he was sure that Bradenâs answer was final, the boy said, âYou failed... when you joined Cerberus.â
Somehow intrigued by the young manâs response, Titusâ eyes glanced back up to him. âAnd so did I,â he continued, âwhen I joined you. You said you wanted me to come with you, and gave me the choice. I chose. I decided to tag along with terrorists. I knew who you guys were. A team of people that all failed when they made the same choice I made.â
The boy stood up from the sofa and said, âItâs what we do after we fail that counts.â
As if by magic, Titusâ spirit was instantly lifted and he felt himself smiling. He turned around to fully face Braden and leaned back against the window. He crossed his arms and said, âHuh... How did you become so damn brilliant?â
With a quirky smile and shrug of his shoulders, the teen replied, âLiz likes to drown me in psychoanalytic mumbo-jumbo from time-to-time. I think itâs starting to rub off on me.â
The two shared a laugh and Titus said, âWell keep her close, Braden. Youâve found yourself a very intelligent young lady.â
âYeah...,â Braden said with a blush of red on his above his cheeks, âspeaking of Liz; you think you can give me a bit of advice?â Titusâ eyes nearly popped out of his head and when Braden realized how that sounded, he ferociously shook his hands and exclaimed, âNot about that!â