Veronica watched the small speck on the horizon grow into the long, twin-tailed silhouette of a Pyreborn gunship as it flew over the outer rings of the Atrium from the sea of green ruins beyond. The pilot skillfully wove the craft between the spires that connected the Atrium to the ring-stations above and gently landed on the landing platform. Its scaled hull glistened in the light of the setting sun like a dragon at rest.

Its side doors hissed open, and the Pyreborn commander, Maruch, leaped out scanned the area before signaling that it was safe for the others to emerge. Flanked by their armed escort, she and the general made their way across the platform to meet them.

The general whispered to her. “That’s less than half the force that he left with.”

Veronica felt the grim satisfaction of vindication.

Four refugees spilled out. Two men, a little girl, and a bug-like alien. The ash coating them made it difficult to discern much more than their age.

She was relieved to see the battered form of Ithlin emerge from the hatch, her right arm severed at the shoulder and her left shepherding the survivors off the platform. 

Veronica knew human politics. Her years climbing the ladder in Lima had hammered enough lessons into her to be confident enough to say that. But this wasn’t Lima, and Ithlin was her only meaningful connection on this new galactic stage.

Ithlin was speaking to one of the men when Veronica approached, but the dying whine of the gunship’s engines made it impossible to hear them. He was the younger and lankier of the two. His vacant eyes glistened as he ambled towards another Penitent waiting at the edge of the platform.

Veronica finally heard her as the engines died. “…Do not remember him by the feeling of his loss alone, Thomas, but by the light he cast upon you. So long as you live, truly live, his death won’t have been for nothing.”

He turned to acknowledge her, a ghost of a smile bringing a shred of life back to his face before leaving the platform.

Veronica stepped in front of Ithlin. “As soon as you’ve been repaired, we need to talk.”

“My injuries are not urgent.”

“Good. You’ve kept us waiting long enough.” Ithlin had refused to reveal anything of value in the brief call that she had made while en route back to the Atrium.

Ithlin cast a cautious look at the Penitent tending to the survivors. “It is not the security of our communications that gave me pause, Mistress Quispe. I will not speak more of it in this setting.”

Then I will find that setting and drag you into it by your power cord if need be.

From the corner of her eye, Veronica saw the general and Maruch approach. “Fine. My apartment isn’t far from here.”

They made an odd quartet on the walk back to Veronica’s quarters, with the general in his dress blues, Maruch hidden beneath his helmet, Ithlin looking like a crumpled soda can, and Veronica in her red jacket. And with the armed escort of Pyreborn and human soldiers, all hope for subtlety had been abandoned. She had no doubt that Wilson and the others would soon hear about Maruch’s return. Time was of the essence.

“What the hell happened?” The general asked as soon as the door shut.

Veronica took a seat at her desk. It was a poor replacement for her old walnut one, and its color was lighter than she would have liked, but it was still made of wood. The bare, black walls of her apartment had made her miss the look and feel of it so much that she almost didn’t care that she had been price-gouged by some tube-sucking alien to get it. “Give us the abridged version. The Council’s going to want to meet as soon as they know you’re back.”

“Very well.” Just as requested, it only took Ithlin a few minutes, but with too few details for Veronica’s liking. Ithlin stood at the center of the room through it all.

I suppose when you’re a machine, sitting is just a formality.

“So it was just a small infiltration team?” The general asked.

Maruch grunted. “Never use the word ‘just’ when a Purificant is involved. And no, this was no mere infiltration. Ones of their rank seldom appear for anything other than matters of religious importance. They are not built for subtlety.”

Ithlin nodded in agreement. “I have heard the tales from survivors, sparse as they are, and this one more than lived up to their reputation.”

“And you fought it?” Veronica asked.

“My order’s creed is to aid and foster the displaced species of this galaxy, not to destroy. But an attack on this world, our sanctuary, is one of the few circumstances where we are permitted to engage in such violence.”

Veronica cocked an eyebrow. “There are other circumstances?”

“Only when our path to atonement faces an…existential threat, yes.”

Maruch's pressure seal popped as he removed his helmet to reveal his gray, snouted face. “A more practical course would have been for you to return here and spread the word of the Idex incursion yourself. We would have had a more accurate assessment of the situation than the panicked ramblings of civilians, and you would have been safe from capture.”

“The train was down,” Ithlin said.

Maruch scoffed. “A technological feat beyond your abilities, I’m sure. Why would one expect a machine to possess mechanical skill?”

Ithlin snapped her head at him. “The people harbored upon this world are under my protection. Had I been captured, I would have ensured that-”

“But you were captured, and clearly, you did not self-destruct or conduct a memory wipe. Had I not arrived at that precise moment, they would have taken you and scoured your memory banks. How safe would the people of this world, this galaxy, be if the Idex came to possess what you know?”

Ithlin pondered his words for a moment. “The way I am…built would make that very difficult for them to achieve, but your words do hold some merit. Even still, I took the course of action that I believed was most aligned with my vows, and I do not regret them.”

Maruch opened his mouth to speak, but Ithlin wasn’t finished. “And this vow does not have an exception.”

The General scowled. “Enough, even if they had captured her, they already know we’re here. And they’re not exactly in need of new ways to fry our asses, so I suggest we move away from shit that’s already done and on to what the hell we’re going to do now.”

Veronica steepled her fingers. “We accelerate the plan, and this attack has given us the means to do just that.”

The general blinked. “You still want to fight?”

“It is our only option. Or at least the only one that leaves humanity’s fate in its own hands.” She stoked the fire in her chest. If the general lost his nerve, the Americans and countless others would follow. “If we run and hide, we will simply exist at the whims of whoever’s doorstep we land on. Maybe we’d survive physically, but the human spirit? Human culture? It would be a slow death. Tell me, general, how did Eastern Europe fare after the end of the Second World War?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I get the point, but I also don't think asking an already demoralized populace to go up against a ten-foot-tall, golden titan like this Purificant, or whatever the hell it is, is going to go very well.”

“No," Maruch said, “It won’t. Not without our help. And not without proof that victory is possible.”

Maruch stood and handed the general an electronic tablet. His eyes twinkled as he studied it. “You brought that back with you?”

“Two of them.”

He handed it to Veronica under Ithlin’s gaze, which somehow felt disapproving.

“That’s... one way to get the point across," Veronica said, stifling a gag. “But we’ll need more.”

“Then we unveil the legion,” Ithlin said.

“No. We have not even finished selecting initiates.," Maruch said flatly, “And I am less than hopeful for the ones we have already. Only a handful of them have the experience and physique required of a warrior. Had we more time, then yes, perhaps I could wrench a few drops of water from the sand you have given me, but-”

“The armor will more than make up for their physical shortcomings. You know the capabilities of Illinic technology. As for experience…” Ithlin looked at the general.

“Maruch, we’re short on experienced bodies as is, and the last place I want them is on the front lines.”

Maruch looked as if someone had spat in his face. “You would have your vanguard be comprised entirely of untested novices? You will be sending them to their deaths.”

The general squirmed. “There will be a few veteran soldiers to form a backbone of officers, but I don’t like it either. It’s gonna be a hell of a time training them in the time we have, but if we start sending the vets out in the numbers that you’re thinking, then soon none of them will be left. I need them here, either training the next batches of troops or commanding. Most humans just aren’t going to listen to an alien, plain and simple.”

Maruch growled. Veronica had left the actual planning of the legion and overall militarization of humanity to them. Her job was just to sell it to everyone else.

“You are not alone in this, Maruch.", said Ithlin, "I will bring the full resources of the Penitent to aid you in this endeavor.”

Maruch loosened slightly. “I will accept your offer of resources but not your aid.”

“I wasn’t offering. You will have my aid. Mythros himself believes this to be the culmination of our efforts, and despite our differences, I agree with him.”

Maruch huffed. “So be it. The Pyreborn have accepted your challenge, and we will not back down from it. Will you?”

Ithlin’s eyes narrowed into pinpricks of blue. “What do you mean by that?”

Veronica always suppressed a cringe whenever Ithlin aped the body language of a living being. It was like looking at a puppet that was a little too life-like.

“It’s the same argument we had over you not fleeing from the Idex. You are incapable of grasping the calculus of war. Lives are a resource that must be spent, no matter what kind of armor they wear or what training they have. If you wait too long to spend them, the enemy will set the price themselves, and it will be steep.”

Ithlin stepped towards him. “Then, tell me, was the Scouring of Galdaron merely an investment to you? Your kind called it a victory, yet the planet was rendered lifeless, and your fleet nearly wiped out.”

Maruch’s jaw clenched as he somehow found a way to sit even straighter. “Every warrior in that fleet chose that fate the moment their oaths were taken. Because of them, the Idex advance was halted for a year.”

The chords hanging from Ithlin’s empty arm socket shot sparks. “So that is the price of thirty-thousand lives? A year? Would they have taken their oaths knowing that they’d be sold for a year?”

Maruch’s brow furrowed. “They took their oaths knowing that they would die so that others might live.”

“Indeed, they did. They put their lives into the hands of their commanders, with the belief and the trust that they would be spent wisely. Oaths go both ways.”

Maruch sprang to his feet with such a fire in his eyes that Veronica could see why his kind called themselves ‘Pyreborn.’ “I am no oath breaker.”

“Nor am I. And I know you took no part at Galdaron, but I am still uncertain as to whether you share the same callousness that was displayed there.”, Ithlin said. “In my time, I have watched your kind, and a thousand like it, rise and fall. I have dedicated this past century to shielding what few people I could from the Idex onslaught, only to watch twice as many crumble to ash before my eyes. I know the cost of war.”

Maruch’s eyes narrowed. “And yet only now, when they are on your doorstep, do you choose to fight.”

Ithlin said nothing.

“I think we should unveil the legion,” Veronica interjected. “What better way to show them a path forward than by showing them that anyone can be turned into something…” She grasped for the correct word. “…more.”

 “If it can be done,” the general said. “Turning civilians into soldiers is nothing new. But this…I don’t know.”

“It's been done before,” Ithlin said, “The time has come for my kind to take a more active role. Mythros may disagree, but we have sat by long enough. This task is paramount, and perhaps I am unprepared, but I feel that I must try.”

Maruch sighed. “Very well. I may not enjoy your company, but if one only accepts a challenge for the enjoyment of it, then it is no longer a challenge.”

“On to other matters,” Veronica continued, “I believe a human should be the one to recount the attack to the council.”

“You wish to recount it yourself?” Ithlin asked.

Don’t play dumb.

Ithlin’s mechanical body made it far too easy for Veronica to read her tone of voice. She couldn’t hide behind a smile or a scowl.

“One of the survivors of the attack should tell the story. I believe I saw you talking with one of them when you arrived, a young man.”

Ithlin’s voice grew shrill, only slightly, but enough for Veronica to notice. “Thomas has been through enough for one day without being hounded by politicians.”

Veronica kept a stone face. “If it comes from you alone, there will be some who won’t believe it.”

Ithlin turned to face her. “Thomas was instrumental in evacuating Point Nemo. How will he feel when he realizes his reward is to have to recount the worst day of his life to a group of strangers?”

Veronica curled her lip. “It was the second worst day of his life. Every human here has the same pick for number one. And if he wants to keep from having another contender for that title, then he'll be more than willing to do his part here.”

“You want to add him to our list of initiates, don’t you?” Maruch asked, looking at Ithlin.

“I believe he has the potential to, yes,” Ithlin said, “But after today…he is in an uncertain state.”

“If he can bear what is to come of the legion, then he should be able to bear this,” Maruch said. “Let him decide.”

“Even better," Veronica said. “We can use this to help unveil the legion by showing the perfect ‘before’ picture, that even a traumatized refugee can become something greater.”

Ithlin’s blue gaze focused on her, through her. “Give him the day to rest, at least.”

Veronica bit her tongue. “Fine. I will give him a day, but no longer. Make sure he really is resting, though. A boy his age might try to find his confidence at the bottom of a bottle.”

The tablet on Veronica’s desk chimed. Their hour was up.

“For today, let’s keep it brief, let them know what happened and that details are still coming in. If we lose our transparency, then this whole thing goes to shit.," the general said. “We’ll tell them we need another day to come up with a more detailed report and schedule a formal session then. It’ll also give everyone who’ll inevitably play hooky today a second chance to show up.”

Veronica began typing another meeting invitation for the next day, but Ithlin put a hand on her desk. “Invite everyone. This does not concern humans alone.”

Veronica’s fingers drummed across the tablet, feeling lighter than she had in years. It had been a productive day.