Mostly, though, she wanted to be nimble. Dispatch her squads where the reactions—if any—were the most extreme. Calm things down before they got down to the business of shoving people back into their pods.
The public address system crackled and Addison’s voice boomed out through the speakers, echoing in the hallways.
“This is Director Addison,” she began. “As many of you know, ten weeks ago Colonial Affairs sent out a fleet of vessels to scout the nearest worlds—ones that might be suitable for habitats or, in some cases, offer resources from which to resupply our dwindling stores. Barring that, to find a place where we could move our population in the event that the station ceases to support the mission.
“I am sad to announce that those missions have failed. The worlds we identified from afar have all been struck by the same mysterious phenomenon that so damaged the Nexus—what most of us now refer to as ‘the Scourge.’”
Not a bad start, all things considered, Sloane thought. She studied her team. Saw resolve and, more importantly, cool-headedness in each of their faces.
Addison continued. “One of our ships did not return, and search-and-rescue efforts are continuing as I speak. While we all hope for the safety of the members of that mission, we must now turn our focus to the survival of the Nexus and its inhabitants.
“You’ve all done an amazing job these last few months. Critical problems have been resolved. The station may still require an incredible amount of work before it is ready to perform its mission, but it is stable. You should all be extremely proud of this accomplishment!”
Another pause, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“Our primary concern now is one of supplies,” Addison said. “We simply do not have the resources needed to sustain our revived population. With the lack of habitable worlds near us, and the continued issues plaguing hydroponics, we have no choice but to wait until several crops can be harvested and stored. Alternatively, we will be contacted by the Pathfinders and a solution will come from them.
“Several weeks ago we asked for volunteers to return to stasis. None of you were willing to do that, and we understood your reasons. Unfortunately we have no alternative now. I must ask you to remember the words of Jien Garson. ‘We make the greatest sacrifice any of us have ever, or will ever, make.’ The time has come for a mandatory return to stasis for all non-essential personnel.”
Another short silence, to let that sink in.
“Team leaders will be briefed shortly. Within the next twenty-four hours you will be contacted by security, who will escort you to your stasis pod and oversee the process. We look forward to your cooperation in salvaging the mission of the Nexus.”
Twenty-four hours and this will be over, Sloane thought. And then she’d need to get her own team to go back under. To enter a coma aboard a station held together with tape and spit and foul language, surrounded by a mysterious phenomenon that seemed to destroy everything that came near.
Of course she’d get to remain awake. Of course. Wasn’t that how leaders always did things?Others have to make the sacrifice. But us? Oh no, we’re much too fucking important.
Sloane waited for more, but Addison appeared to be done. Odd that she didn’t add a little thanks or godspeed or whatever. Well, beggars can’t be choosers. At least it wasn’t Tann making the speech, or Spender writing it. Sloane still cringed at that memory, and thought she would for the rest of her life.
“Listen up,” she said. No need—her officers were already listening. “Stick the plan, okay? We have no idea how this is going to go, but we have to treat this situation like it’s a group of colonists who don’t want to evacuate their doomed planet. Some of us have been on duty like that before, and it’s never fun. Just remember that we’re saving their lives, even if they don’t see it that way. They have their own best interests in mind. It’s our job to remind them of the bigger picture. Understood?”
Nods all around.
“Alright then. Let’s get this over with.” Her omni-tool chimed. Kesh. Sloane raised a finger to her crew and stepped away to the wall. “Hey, what’s the status? Are the krogan on board with all this?”
“I’m not worried about the clan,” Kesh said, “but there is a problem.”
“How can there be a problem already? It’s been, like, thirty seconds.”
“I’m unable to contact Calix.”
Sloane’s pulse jumped. Her mouth went dry. Calix was crucial to this effort—perhaps even more important than she was herself.
“Alright. Don’t panic. Who’s his second?”
“That’s just it,” Kesh said. “I can’t seem to raise anyone on the life-support team. And without them—”
“—none of the pods can be prepped for activation.”
“Exactly,” Kesh said, then she added, “I could do it, but I’m not trained in monitoring the process.”
“I hear you. Let’s keep that option as plan B for the moment. I’ll see if I can track down Calix. They might be in a rad-shielded area, making sure the infrastructure is ready for these pods to come back online.” But Sloane didn’t believe her own words. Something—some deep-seeded security officer’s intuition—told her that something else was going on here.
Whatever it was, it wasn’t good.
Because if someone out there, some group, wanted to avoid a return to stasis, taking out Calix and his team would be a damned good way to go about it.
“Right,” she said, returning to her team. “I need four volunteers. We’ve got some people missing and—”
The PA crackled. Sloane stopped talking. Maybe Addison wasn’t quite done after all. But it wasn’t her voice that filled the halls of the Nexus. It was a turian voice. A familiar one.
“This is Calix Corvannis,” the turian’s voice boomed, “and I am here to tell you all to say no. Say no! Resist the order to return to stasis.”
Oh, shit. No.
Sloane’s omni chirped again. Spender calling.
“Not now,” she barked as she answered, her mind reeling.
“No problem,” Spender said. “I just thought you might want to dispatch a team to the armory.”
“Who the hell do you think you are, telling me where to…” Then his words registered, and her wrath bled out. “Why the armory?”
“Well, I happened to be going past there and noticed the doors were open. Wide open. No guards.”
“How the fuck…?”
Another alert erupted from her wrist. This one automated, a direct feed from the station’s emergency systems.
“Fire in Hydroponics,” Sloane read, unable to believe it.
She rushed from the room, sidearm drawn, the entire security staff on her heels.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“Act casual,” Calix said to Lawrence Nnebron.
The man acted anything but. Fidgeting, staring at the two guards for long seconds, not looking away when they returned the stare. He’d taken Irida’s arrest worse than most, and was itching to get some payback. Not that he knew the true reason for her arrest, but this wasn’t the time or place to get into that. Calix grabbed his upper arm gently but with enough force to turn him away from the hallway entrance.
“Our goal is what’s inside,” he said.
“It’s not right what they did,” Nnebron muttered. His eyes were downcast though. He recognized his own pettiness, and that was a start.