The Genesis Saga Chapter 207

They were tired. They were ragged. But still, there was a fight left in them. The Tribunal was in short supply of miracles and hoped that Ava would deliver one when they needed it most. The Elders were at the ready, waiting on their War Arbiter’s call for a eting.

Nessah finished her debrief with Ava and imdiately began reading over the compiled data that had been graciously surrendered. Ava had also left in her care the data crystal, claiming that she no longer needed it. It sat in the sa spot Nessah’s desk where Ava had placed it, untouched.

Nessah had left Ava on standby in her office’s reception, where Sytha could keep an eye on her while Nessah finished skimming the summary report. Ava would be called to testify before the Tribunal should the Elders deem it necessary.

At the sa ti, Nessah also went over the rescue mission’s report, curtesy of the Fleet Commander. That, she had already forwarded to the rest of the Tribunal. It took her another hour until she had a satisfactory grasp on the information Ava had stolen from the Highest. It was only then that she called for an ergency eting.

Nessah stood from her desk and stretched. She made her way to the secure room used for Tribunal etings and willed the other Elders’ figures into existence before her. Though she had called the eting not one minute prior, Nessah was still the last to arrive. She took a mont to scan her subjects, their anxiety on full display.

“Elders,” Nessah said, “we have had a successful mission. Arguably the most important one we have sanctioned since the beginning of the war.” Nobody else spoke, opting to remain silent with bated breath as Nessah delivered her verdict. “As you’ve no doubt seen in the mission report,” she continued, “our success ca at a great cost. We will never again hear the sound of those brave soldiers’ laughter. Never again hear of their hopes and dreams. Their sacrifice will be honored, for they just may have won us the war.”

A somber atmosphere blanketed the room. The Elders had all seen the casualty report. They’d lost a staggering amount of resources rescuing Adrian. Worst still was the cost of civilian lives due to the lack of additional forces stationed on Verilia. Combined, the report was more than just a number. It was a sobering reminder of the cost of war.

“The Fleet Commander said we had successfully sabotaged their systems,” Darros inquired. “What kind of damage did we actually do?” he asked. “How will we be impacted here on Verilia?” The Fleet Commander’s report had only made ntion of retrieving a data crystal and sabotaging the lab’s systems in a single, hastily added line that was bereft of any detail.

“That’s correct,” Nessah confird. “We actually have Ava to thank for that. According to her testimony, which matches the other ones we’ve received from the rest of the team that infiltrated the facility, the damaged the Highest’s master terminal and stole its data crystal.” The Elders leaned forward in anticipation, salivating at the thought of the damage that may have been done to their enemies. “Ava has successfully decoded the master data crystal, providing with us a full report on the Highest’s work after it abducted Adrian, as well as its results,” Nessah continued. “We were lucky,” she said gravely, “for the Highest was on the cusp of completing its research.”

A soft, collective gasp resounded throughout the room.

“You an that bucket of bolts actually did sothing useful?” Cirrus asked, dumbfounded. “How do we know its not lying to us or delivering false information?” Though it had been many months since Ava’s discovery, Cirrus still had little trust for the android. She was inherently wary of anything concerning a weapon made by their enemy. She found it hard to believe that an instrunt of death and destruction would so readily turn against its creators. The others might be fooled, but she would remain vigilant. Sobody had to, and Cirrus took it upon herself to step up where the other Elders fell short.

“We have no way of truly knowing,” Nessah replied honestly. “For all we know, the information in her report is falsified and she tampered with the data crystal.”

“I knew it!” Cirrus exclaid. “I told you it couldn’t be trusted.”

“I never said we were betrayed,” Nessah said impatiently, “simply that we will never know how much of what we have is true.”

“What’s the difference?” Cirrus pushed. “We all know that thing can’t be trusted.”

“Good gods, Cirrus,” Orryn exclaid, “at this point, we have no choice but to trust the information Ava has brought us. The least you could do is read it over and then decide if it has any rit in being included in our plans!”

Cirrus opened her mouth to retort but shrank back under the withering gazes of the other Elders. “Fine,” she spat. “What did its report have to say?”

“Rather than hear it from ,” Nessah said, unable to hide her irritation, “we shall hear it directly from her.” Nessah tapped at her data slate, and within monts the door to the sealed room opened. A very nervous Ava entered and took her place at the podium that was overlooked by the Tribunal. Though Ava logically knew that it was only her and Nessah actually present in the room, the weight of the other Elders’ stares made it as though they were there in the room with her as well.

“Greetings, most honorable Elders,” Ava said respectfully, doing her best to keep her voice from shaking. “How may I be of assistance?” She relaxed slightly when she saw the effect her platitude had on the rest of the Tribunal. Proper decorum went a long way, even though she technically wasn’t one of their citizens.

“We wish to hear your version of the events that happened during the mission,” Nessah said. “Go through them, and then we will move onto the information you decoded.”

Ava nodded and promptly proceeded to recount her recollection of the mission. Given her enhanced mory, she opted to skip the unimportant details and gave an unembellished version of the events that transpired. When she got to the part where she’d forced Jyn to stop so that she could access the Highest’s restricted room, Orryn spoke up.

“How did you know that the badge the team had in their possession would work on that engraving?” Orryn inquired.

“Simple observation and deduction,” Ava replied succinctly. “The gru’ul wouldn’t require their Highest to wear separate badges across facilities. One master badge was all they would have deed necessary. Also makes them easier to produce should anything happen to their badge.”

“From what we’ve gathered, their badges are nigh indestructible,” Orryn said. “Why would they need extra?” she asked.

“In case it got lost or sothing happened to the current Highest,” Ava said bluntly. “Not to be rude, but is that really what you want to focus on? I know we’re short on ti, and just going through all the data I decoded is going to take a while.”

Orryn had the decency to look sowhat embarrassed. “You’re right, carry on,” she instructed.

Ava wasted no ti in finishing going over the mission, right up until the mont they entered hyperspace to retreat from the gru’ul’s ho world. “I then spent the month we were in hyperspace for decoding the data crystal and compiling the reports,” she finished. “I was putting the finishing touches on it right as we arrived.”

“What is have you learned that we need to know?” Nessah asked. While she already had a very good idea after having read part of Ava’s notes, she was curious to see just what Ava would consider vital information. It would also allow the rest of the Tribunal to ask their questions directly to the expert and source of the information.

“The Highest ca to the conclusion that Adrian was the missing component it needed to be able to replicate its predecessor’s success,” Ava explained. The other Elders nodded their heads as she spoke, having already surmised the reason for Adrian’s abduction. “Since the data at the research facility where you found Adrian was corrupted, not even the Highest could scrape enough data to adapt the research to other gru’ul. As such, Adrian was taken and his blood and other parts of him were harvested to manipulate directly.”

“What do you an by harvested?” Orryn asked.

“Blood, bone marrow, and skin tissue were routinely taken from Adrian,” Ava replied. “Those samples were then experinted on and injected directly into other gru’ul subjects as part of a new set of experints.” Though she’d done her fair share of experintation, Ava was still disgusted by the needless suffering the gru’ul test subjects must have undergone, given that every experint was dood to fail before it even began. “The Highest failed every experint it perford. Instead, it decided to try growing genetically modified gru’ul using Adrian as a template,” she continued. “We unknowingly exploded the highly specialized hatcheries the Highest was using to grow these modified gru’ul when we retreated.”

“Does that an the gru’ul lack the ability to create improved versions of themselves?” Darros asked. “So far, all we’ve seen are the mutated failures. Can those still be created?”

“No,” Ava said, shaking her head. “While there are countless hatcheries on their ho planet, none were as sophisticated as the ones we destroyed. Given that the gru’ul were still experinting with possible improvents, they never implented the specialized hatcheries globally. They wanted to wait until the next step in their evolution was fully secured before expanding their operations.”

“They had no other specialized hatcheries at all?” Darros asked incredulously.

“They did. Technically, every gru’ul we’ve ever t are already genetically modified from their original forms,” Ava explained. “We just never knew the difference since their current forms are the only ones we’ve ever known. So yes, they already have inherently advanced birthing facilities, just none quite like what was in the Highest’s personal lab.”

Darros nodded, digesting the information. “It was blind luck that the explosives dealt such a blow to the gru’ul, but I’ll take it. When will they be able to rebuild what we’ve destroyed?” he asked.

Ava paused as she ran calculations to determine gru’ul production capacity. “At most, three months,” she said confidently. “After that, the facilities will be back online and the Highest will continue its experints.”

“Will the gru’ul return for Adrian?” Maraz asked. “Can we expect another attack on his location?”

“I’m not sure,” Ava replied. “When we stole the data crystal from the master terminal, I uploaded a virus into their systems, one designed to corrupt all the data in the lab. On top of having its data stolen, the Highest can’t access any backups in the facility. Even if the corruption was localized uniquely to the Highest’s lab, we’ve destroyed any logs and research notes it had on-site. Even if it manages to rebuild the specialized hatcheries, any improvents the Highest attempts to make to other gru’ul will have to be based off of its mory. And since it never participated in the original experints that made Adrian their only success, it has very little to go off of.”

Tension bled out of the Elders, their relief palpable. “Wouldn’t that simply give it a reason to abduct Adrian again?” Orryn pointed out.

“I couldn’t say,” Ava said. “I may be of gru’ul make, but I am not a gru’ul. I don’t think the sa way they do.”

“aning there’s always a chance,” Darros said grimly. “What of their combat capabilities?” he asked. “Was there any information regarding that on the data crystal you stole?”

“No,” Ava replied. “The most I was able to learn was the general defenses they had around the facility and the planet. For such an advanced race, they have a severe lack of anti-air defenses. They an imnse amount of ships at their disposal, mostly in their motherships. Given the amount of motherships they have and the firepower that represents, they clearly never thought they would ever be attacked.”

“Am I the only on that finds that strange?” Cirrus interjected. “For such an advanced race, how co they never thought to defend themselves?”

“The gru’ul do not war the sa way a’vaare and humans do,” Ava replied. “They never had wars between factions or world wars, for all gru’ul are subservient to their Queen. The Highest acts on the Queen’s orders to advance the Mandate and is the second highest form of authority in the gru’ul hierarchy. Their unity is their ultimate weakness, for they never entertained the idea of their creations rebelling against them.”

“But what if they encountered another advanced race that wished them harm?” Cirrus said. “There’s always a need to have adequate defenses against the unknown.”

“Except there is no unknown when you’ve seeded almost all known life in the galaxy,” Ava said darkly. “The gru’ul are ancient. They’ve dominated the galaxy for so long, they forgot to fear the unknown. Humans and a’vaare represent the only species they’ve conceived that have had enough intelligence to pose a threat, and even then they refused to acknowledge the threat you pose. Even now, they consider you all to be their lessers. The gru’ul do not believe you can beat them in a war.”

Ava’s words caused bloodthirsty, malevolent smiles to break out on all of the Elder’s faces. The change in atmosphere gave Ava pause.

“We will have our revenge,” Nessah said coldly. “It will be a tragic, awful day that will leave a black mark on us, but it is coming. The gru’ul will soon learn that we are not inferior. And they will regret giving us the tools we needed to end them.”

Ava was at a loss. The sheer confidence with which Nessah spoke confused her. “It is not my place to question your war plans,” she said finally. “Is there anything else you need to learn from ?” she asked.

The Elders continued to ask their questions until they exhausted them. When there was nothing important left for Ava to add, she was summarily dismissed from their presence. As soon as her figure disappeared, all eyes turned to the War Arbiter.

“I’ll be the first to admit,” Nessah said, facing the expectant gazes of her peers, “I never could have dread of such success from the mission I ordered. Originally ant to save Adrian, it inadvertently turned into our most critical mission in recent months. We now know the gru’ul’s weaknesses. Maraz, Darros, are we ready to respond?” she asked.

“Our weapons are ready,” Maraz confird. “All that’s left to do is arm them with the orange chemical and equip our fleet with them.”

“We’ve produced enough of the orange chemical to fully et Maraz’s weapons’ requirents,” Darros added. “We’re ready for war.”

Nessah nodded. “Excellent,” she said. “How long until we’re ready to go on the offensive?” she asked.

“No more than one day,” Maraz responded. “Assuming we put all of our effort into properly equipping our fleet.”

“See to that that it gets done,” Nessah ordered. “I want us ready for departure in within two days. Orryn and Cirrus, you will be in charge of the logistics required to feed our army for their month-long trip. Also see to it that every ship can survive the retreat back to Verilia while in hyperspace.”

“Are we really still going to send one of our flag ships to attack?” Orryn asked. “It feels like a big risk. They’re the reason we haven’t exhausted our resources for space-faring combat yet.”

“We don’t have a choice,” Darros interjected. “If our offensive isn’t powerful enough to make it past the two remaining motherships in the gru’ul ho system, then we lose. We won’t have another chance to launch a surprise attack.”

“We still risk not having enough ships to defend us properly here on Verilia,” Orryn fretted, “sending Especially now that the planetary shields are destroyed. We still need to take out the motherships orbiting Verilia before they try to glass us again.”

“So much ti passed between attacks,” Nessah said. “I’m willing to risk it. If they could’ve glassed us sooner, they would’ve.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Orryn replied. “What if they were waiting until they had successfully replicated Adrian’s success after abducting him again?” she asked. “We could be destroyed at any ti.”

“Then so be it,” Nessah replied firmly. “Darros is right. We only have one chance at an all-out attack. If we don’t send enough soldiers to stall the gru’ul and protect the payloads until they’re delivered, we’ll have already lost. We simply won’t be able to recover if we fail. At which point, we’re dood here on Verilia anyway.”

Orryn chewed her lip. “Fine,” she reluctantly agreed. “The plan is still to have War Commander Cyrix personally oversee the operation, right?” she asked. While waiting for Ava to return with the intel, the Tribunal had been hard at work planning contingencies and offensive plans. Every Elder agreed that Cyrix’s presence on the battlefield would be necessary if a flag ship was deployed.

“That’s correct,” Nessah confird. “Half of our forces will be dedicated to the attack, with Cyrix in command. I’ll take over directing our forces here on Verilia in the anti. We’ll only be able to defend strategic locations once we launch the offensive.”

“We’re condemning many to die,” Cirrus grimaced. “I understand it’s a necessary sacrifice so that the rest of us may live, but I’m still uncomfortable with it.” The thought of taking an already unthinkable death toll and purposefully allowing it to climb higher did not sit well with her. Yet she saw no other way than to go through with their plans and take the gamble. Nessah was right. Either they succeeded or they all perished. The alternative made the bitter pill slightly easier to swallow.

“I know,” Nessah said sadly. “Nobody asked for this war. Nobody wanted such death and destruction. But here we are, faced with total annihilation. We need to do this,” she said. “We have to. We will get glassed if we fail.”

“What if the gru’ul glass us even if we’re successful?” Orryn asked. “Maraz, can we get the shields back up and running in ti?”

“No,” Maraz replied, shaking his head. “We need to build them from scratch. Already, the fact that we survived two attempts to glass Verilia is impressive, but now the shields are broken beyond repair. Once the offensive is launched, I’ll focus all of my ti in building new ones, but I can’t guarantee when they’ll be ready. We’ve lost many of the factories we used to produce the original shields.”

Orryn sported a sour expression at the news. “History will hate us for the choices we’ve made,” she said. “I hate us for the choices we’ve made.”

“At least we’ll have a history beyond this war if we win,” Darros said somberly. “I don’t care how they view us as long as we win.” Most Elders found themselves nodding along with his statent. They were past the point of following any rules for the war. The gru’ul had none and abandoning their principles was the only way to win.

“How will we organize our defenses on Verilia?” Maraz asked. “We’ve planned much of the offensive but haven’t put as much energy on our remaining forces.”

A discussion quickly broke out as the Elders hashed out the best plan they could think of on such short notice. They were out of ti, and they needed to begin organizing their attack before they lost their only chance.

“What about Captain Jyn’s team?” Cirrus asked once they had a working plan.

“They’ve done enough,” Darros replied. “Right now, they are down two mbers. I don’t believe their presence will make or break our last stand. They are too fractured to be of any use.”

“I propose we send them back to the safe house,” Orryn suggested. “That should give their Captain the ti and space he needs to recover after his ordeal. Given their ongoing implication since the beginning of our current predicant, they could use a break.”

“I agree,” Darros said. “We can call upon the team’s active mbers once it’s ti to eradicate the remaining gru’ul on Verilia. For now, they simply won’t be of much help.”

“Are we all in agreent?” Nessah asked. A chorus of affirmatives rang out in the room. Nessah nodded. “Good, I’ll give them their new orders personally. You all have your orders and know what to do. I want regular status reports as we coordinate our efforts. Now get going,” she said. “We have a planet to destroy.”