Chương 141: Part 122: Countdown

Technically, Stibs' house was still the same in terms of walls and furniture, but Nestra still had issues reconciling the gloomy den of a besieged friend with what she was seeing right now. The windows were open to a nice morning breeze, fresh curtains aflutter. Sunlight bathed a rigorously clean room devoid of any clutter, all of the drones packed away except for whatever Stibs was currently working on.

As for the mistress of the house, she lounged on a ridiculous fancy reclined chair carefully picking otherworldly fruits from a basket. Her feet rested on a velvety red pillow with the toes curling and uncurling from sheer comfort. She looked amazingly better — though still too thin around her massive belly. Sereth stood like a sated Cerberus. He looked regal in his heavenly form and princely garb, like he'd jumped out of some particularly spicy romantasy.

He gently served tea to an old anglo couple Nestra could only assume were Stibs' parents. They were beyond flustered.

"Ah, Nezhra," he warmly greeted, then his expression fell into melancholy.

"I heard. I am sorry."

"I wanted to talk to you about that, when you have a moment," Nestra replied.

"Or, uh, I might be interrupting something important."

"Not at all," Stibs said.

"We were discussing marriage details. Things are moving fast."

"Congratulations."

"It helps when you can just throw money at every problem. Ok now, fiance. Go ahead."

"With your parents' permission," the tall heavenly finished with a smooth smile. Stibs' parents mumbled their assent, possibly having a bit of an overload from the novelty of having an actual alien prince as future son-in-law. Or perhaps they'd been informed he was older than both of them combined. Sereth walked outside for only half a second, switching back to his usual human appearance plus gleam eyes this time.

"Excuse me." He disappeared, leaving Nestra stranded for a solid three seconds which was just a little rude. A car crumpled in the distance.

"Some people do not seem to understand the 'no cameras' rule," a reappearing Sereth said.

"Shinran's requested that I call him before escalating. I may have to do so tomorrow before I start leaving the people inside the cars when I flatten them. But enough about me. How can I help you, Nezhra?"

"How was it with Makihel?"

"Beyond all my hopes, but that isn't what you came here for. You have come to request my help."

"Yes."

"You know this is not our way," Sereth said with mild disapproval.

"I owe you more than I could hope to repay. You have given me back the life I thought I lost, but younglings must still fight their own battle."

"I don't need you to fight for me," Nestra corrected. Sereth nodded.

"I spoke in error. Do you need help with planning?" Nestra resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She also realized she had no reason to resist so she did, then she stabbed a finger on the stupid brother's chest.

"You don't know the first thing about guns, squad operations or any manatech integration with squad tactics. I'm the MaxSec veteran here, you fist-waving troglodyte."

"Forgive me, oh modern warrior woman." Nestra harrumphed, though it wasn't serious. Sereth's nascent smile turned brighter.

"I bet you regret not training for leadership now."

"Shut up! I did some training!" And she had, at Shinran's facility too. That wasn't the problem.

"What do you need me for, then?"

"Plausible deniability." Sereth frowned until she realized, and his expression turned bitter and regretful.

"The, ah, effeminate version of me that looks like you?"

"Precisely. Why do you make that face? Does Stib disapprove?"

"No, that is the issue. She likes my effeminate masks… a little too much." That was a topic Nestra was keen on leaving untouched.

"You owe me, Sereth."

"And your coven will see me…"

"A great bonding opportunity for you!" She could see when resignation turned to acceptance in his gaze, but then it was tempered by sadness.

"I know what you're going to do. I will not give you a lecture about justice or vengeance. You are a grown woman. What I feel the need to tell you is that… it will not solve the problem."

"It will solve this problem." Sereth adjusted his posture, and the brother who heard her request was now an ancient one dispensing wisdom again, centuries showing in the depths of his eyes.

"Eliminating a faction will not remove the root causes of what caused the faction to emerge in the first place. Aszhii and humans entered a honeymoon phase, but soon enough they will learn how we take their form and wonder. They will realize our potential for infiltration and duplicity. Worse, males will come attracted to the novelty, some of whom will behave heinously. This is unavoidable, and the human backlash will, too, be unavoidable. The human tendency for prejudice is not an anomaly, it is a feature.

The Aszhii need for deceit is not an anomaly, it is a survival mechanism. There will be clashes, hatred, murders, and the more time passes, the worse it will get until, perhaps, an equilibrium is reached."

"I can offset some of that. I already did, with Riel."

"They will say you are 'one of the good ones', and that our kin from other species cannot adapt the way you do. They will say you were cheated, or that you are a betrayer. What you are about to do is the first stone push up Sisyphus' mountain." Nestra shrugged. He had a point.

"Sereth, I'm just one person. Getting rid of Rebirth is within my reach. The rest isn't."

"As long as you realize it. I do not want to see you any more heartbroken than necessary, Nezhra." It looked like he was speaking from experience, but…

"You've done something similar in the past?" He stared off into the distance, lost in memories. Nestra felt the urge to remind him he was only 300 and shouldn't act like an elder, but… technically he was older than any human.

"I have not tried to change the fate of my entire species, but I did try to change the game of succession. Did Makihel mention what happened with our cousins?" Nestra frowned.

"Your sister mentioned hiding from them at some point?"

"They were our cousins on my mother's side. They attempted to ingratiate themselves with another candidate by killing us. I tried to extend a hand in friendship only to be trapped in return. Fortunately, we expected it might happen…" He shook his head with disgust.

"They were fools with foolish hopes, incapable of understanding how little we meant to the higher ranked princes. No one really cares about us. Only the first four or five heirs truly play the game; the rest of us are just pawns. They mistakenly believed they could play the highest board. So. We killed them. And their mother. And what did it change?"

"You and Makihel were safe." He winced, though he wasn't done.

"But that is the thing. You can change individual fates. Those, in turn, will affect the trajectory of others in a rolling effect that grows weaker the farther you go. You cannot change your species, their urges, flaws, doubts, or ambitions. Even a ruler cannot do that. It will always be an uphill battle." Nestra realized that, in her head, she'd thought she'd solved the human safari problem forever. It wouldn't be that simple, of course, and yet she still felt a measure of satisfaction.

Despite the bomb, she still did.

"It's all I can do. And I've done more than most." Sereth smiled, then patted her head until she batted his arm away.

"I did not mean to kill your mood, Nezhra. I just want you to have the right expectations. Tomorrow, there will be another struggle. Today, you will have vengeance."

"No, we will have justice."

Nestra was facing a conundrum. She had carte blanche to get whatever gear she needed, but as she'd told Sereth, she was lacking people. Or operators. Her immediate family was out because they were under constant scrutiny, especially Claire who had a reputation. By extension, House Palladian's guild people couldn't participate. The same was true of the coven with the exception of Grook who was underestimated for her relatively low rank.

For the sake of mobility, she also couldn't bring any augs or baselines, and Riel couldn't afford to have one of his wormholes spotted, so he couldn't just open one hoping no one from Rebirth was around. She had Camille, Grook, Val's cousin Sylvie, and her special guest. And that was it. It wasn't nearly enough, so she would have to bring in foreign talent. But who could she bring with her? Who could be absolutely trusted to keep their mouths shut?

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. Actually she had some ideas.

Nestra wouldn't say Gorge's warehouse was the most secure spot in Threshold — far from it, in fact — but it was definitely one of the best guarded spots in the outer districts. It was also the kind of place where no one batted an eye at nondescript vans visiting at off hours. After all, many guilds and mercenary groups valued their privacy.

The main warehouse itself now hosted a curious gathering around a central table representing a map of some mountain village nestled between two ridges, its houses represented by wooden toys. The participants were clearly unimpressed.

"No hologram?" Tristan of the Specter guild complained, wavy brown hair in contrast with the strict black undersuit he wore.

"We're not supposed to have any of the information I'm sharing right now. I had to draw everything from memory."

"No satellite footage?" Tristan asked.

"They opted out, so it's not public domain." Tristan nodded, accepting the explanation while his serious Korean sidekick made a note on her datapad. Nestra waited to see if they had any more questions. They didn't. Nestra turned to a board showing five pictures: a slick, smiling man with silver hair, a stern man with a groomed beard, a tall relative of the previous man, a slightly overweight young man with a scowl, and an older black man with sharp features. Besides the last, they were all anglos.

"Those are our primary targets. The silver-haired snake is Elder Simmons, unofficially the political heart of Rebirth and the impetus behind their long-standing hold on media and politics. His firm belief that we are approaching the End Times is the reason why we're in the situation we're in right now. The bearded man is Solomon Reed and his second son Marcus will be there too."

"Reed?" Miho asked. Tristan's serious second hadn't missed the detail. Everyone by now knew of her connection to the infamous Claire Reed.

"He's my grandfather," Nestra admitted. People exchanged glances all around the room. Nestra tsked.

"I'm not here for family business. My mother was disowned the moment she refused their order to marry. I've never met him. I'm here because of what they've done. With Solomon and Marcus are Andrew Porter and Atticus James, forming a raid team of two B, two C-class, respectively. We know Solomon is ice and something else. Marcus is electricity and strength, Porter is earth and nature, and James is light and wind. They formed an experienced team, though they lost a member last year."

Nestra didn't smirk but she did show a hint of smugness.

"Together, they are the solid core of Rebirth, those we know will never surrender, and those responsible for the Lome attack. They and the rest of the elders will attend a meeting there tomorrow at 8PM EDT. Our objective is three fold: secure the servers, eliminate the lead team, and destroy Rebirth's headquarters." Nestra pointed at the edge of the map.

"This road leads to Nazareth, a post-incursion town of around two thousand people fully under Rebirth's control. We will entirely bypass it by coming through the edge here by portal. Nazareth is useful to Rebirth because it acts as an early-warning system and a way to control their surroundings, but we assess that they will be unable to mount a rescue operation in any timeframe that matters.

Now for the main compound, the HQ is protected from the Appalachian wilderness by a high wall protected by two gates with low security. The extraction team — that's Specter plus Sylvie — will secure, then control them as we will need them."

"I assume they have surveillance?" Tristan asked.

"They do, but you don't have to worry about it."

"Why?"

"For the same reason we have information," Nestra explained. Tristan understood on the spot.

"You have someone on the inside."

"The extraction team will take control of the gates, then move on to the dormitories as quietly as possible. There, you will assist with the evacuation of civilians and children before planting bombs at pre-designated locations. We estimate that there will be up to eighty non-combatants to handle first, depending on who shows up."

"Eighty?" Tristan asked, shocked. Nestra nodded.

"This will take priority over the servers. We will show no mercy to the combatants and the leadership team, but for the children and the civilians, I do not want a single casualty. I don't care if any of you think the locals are complicit. They might be, or they might be victims. We cannot know for sure, therefore you will very rigorously check your fire until the evacuation is complete and I personally give you the green light that only valid targets are left. We are a scalpel, not a hammer.

Even though this is supposed to be a secret operation, the eyes of the world will be on the aftermath. I want whoever finds what's left of them to realize we were better in every conceivable way. We will not create martyrs out of collateral deaths." Most of the participants nodded.

"Let's continue. We estimate a garrison of around forty guards armed with light equipment. Those people are kept here to keep the population in line and kill the odd dokkaebi. They're not an elite force. The raid group, however, is. If the extraction group is spotted —""We won't be," Specter interrupted. Nestra glared.

"If the extraction team or the civilians they guard are spotted, or if you reach the server room, it will be the assault team's turn." The team in question gathered with cocky confidence, although there were only four of them. Three were soldiers Nestra had rescued from a starless portal almost a year before. As they owed Nestra their lives and were quite good, Ragnarok had made sure they would enjoy a vacation together in these trying times.

Their official leader was a bald anglo named Williams, a nature-aligned brawler, and the other two were a lanky wind-mana Indian called Dasani and Hitomi, their support fire mage. The fourth person was a short Chinese woman in a pilot's skinsuit.

"The assault team will insert by jumping from the ridge directly on the side of the compound. There is a patrol path there that provides easy access. They'll then make a beeline towards the council building. Get loud, get noticed. You're here to draw their raiders in. The core team will be on standby to assist any group that's in danger. It will consist of Camille, Grook, and I."

"Will that be enough?" Tristan asked with some doubt.

"You don't have much team synergy, and you will be severely outnumbered." Nestra acknowledged the point.

"I have options, but I can't mention them." The specters didn't look happy, but they were pros. They understood the importance of compartmentalization.

"As soon as the core team makes contact with the enemy raiders, we will draw them back towards our portal. The extraction team will safeguard the servers then, as soon as we are clear, detonate the bomb. Extraction team, you will rendez-vous past the southern edge as soon as you're clear of pursuit."

"Who will manage our extraction?" Williams asked. Nestra considered her answer.

"Should the portal not be cleared, you will be extracted by wormhole." Miho frowned.

"Does that not defeat the purpose of the exercise?"

"I expect that when you're done, Rebirth will no longer have scouts, so there will be no eyes on us. At least, none that will share what they've seen. Remember, we couldn't be conducting this operation without the approval of… certain parties."

"I see."

"I have a question," Williams said "What makes you so sure they will follow the core team?"

"Because I'll be there," Nestra explained.

"Rebirth are fanatics but they're not stupid. They know they're finished in their current form. Their best option is to go out with a bang by killing me."

"So.. you're bait." Nestra smiled. She was in her human skin and yet something must have bled out, because the soldier almost flinched. It was almost imperceptible, but it was there.

"In a manner of speaking."

"How attached are you to us attacking the gates first?" Tristan asked.

"Not attached. We're here to plan together."

"My personal opinion is that we should lead the assault and core teams in, then we move to the dormitories first and then the gates while you stay put. Gates always have more security, even if it's just eyeballs. We'll go faster by getting them from behind, not to mention the assault team isn't exactly stealthy. We can help."

"Fine by me," Nestra replied. They were the experts.

"What about the bombs?" Miho asked. Nestra pointed to the back where Gorge and his two sons were busy piling secured crates.

"Provided by my favorite semi-legal weapon dealer."

"I have a license," Gorge protested.

"Cunt."

"I see why you two work together," Tristan smiled.

"Do you have more goodies?"

"Anything he sells, you can get." A dark glint shone in the depth of the shadow gleam's eyes. She had his interest. Unfortunately, the happiness didn't last.

"Remember when you took a spear to the chest? I think you were more prepared then than you are now. We have a day and a half to prepare for something that would take two weeks minimum before I'd normally sign on it."

"I know. That's why we're here now and talking. Anyone has ideas or objections, speak up and we work from there, but regardless, remember who it is we're facing. Rebirth has been comfortable fighting everyone via brainwashed bombers and internet campaigns. We're Thresholders, all of us, raiders with bloody blades and smoking barrels. I have fought alongside almost all of you. Our people have guarded the gates for decades. I am not leading you in a complex operation against an entrenched and aware opponent.

I am unleashing you to do what you do best. I just want to make sure the damage stays contained until we decide it no longer needs to be contained. When I said we were a scalpel, I meant it. We will kill them and decapitate their entire leadership until they break into a thousand pieces vying for control. As someone dear to me told me, we're not preventing this from happening again, but it won't be coming from the same people." Nestra could see quiet agreement in every serious expression.

"Well. You did get the hostages out last time. Ok. Let me see those explosives," Tristan replied.

Ragnarok stood ramrod straight in front of a container, looking out of place in her crisp uniform. Storage Depth Five was on the secure end of the Beacon, but the security was on the outside. Here, there were only boxes and containers. It even smelled a little dusty under the overwhelming hues of ambient mana. This was a magical item storage space only a few hundred meters away from the world's largest portal. Nestra's horns tingled.

The strangest thing was that Ragnarok was holding a wrapped box that looked suspiciously like a gift, which was impossible.

"And what's that?" Nestra asked.

"A gift." Nestra's mind rebooted.

"For me?"

"Yes." Ragnarok shoved the box in Nestra's hands.

"Open it. Now."

"Ok…" Inside was the most curious thing: a silver bangle depicting a feline with hair tufts on the top of its ears. The metal structure was impossibly delicate and precise, yet Nestra was sure that no machine had formed it. Remnants of a familiar mana still clung to its surface, though it wasn't enchanted per se. Nestra was familiar enough with metal wielders that she could recognize it.

"You made it yourself…" Ragnarok's expression softened.

"Back when I trained the Olympic team, I offered those to every athlete I deemed… ready. I will admit that the future has not taken a turn I expected. You will not be the one to balance Shinran, but then, it will not be needed anymore. Our first strategic treaty will not be with the lizardmen. We will, in the end, not go to war. What I did expect was for you to come into your own as a leader, as a raider, and as a fellow defender of what we value most.

I know this is not the first operation you have led for the city, but this is the first where you are fully in charge from start to finish. I wanted to mark the occasion." Nestra blinked hard because that damn warehouse was getting unbearably dusty.

"I still decided on the lynx rather than the wolf, because you remain a lone hunter at heart. It is not a reproach."

"Uh."

"As you know, the city can offer no official support. Nothing that would be noticed, anyway. As such, I have considered long and hard and, with the help of Moon Dancer, I have realized the last way I can assist you before your departure." Rag didn't move. She was an A-class metal gleam. Her will alone peeled the nearby container open, revealing carefully plastic crates of faulty armor artefacts. Nestra's Skin symbiote writhed on her shoulders.

It had not grown in a while, and this banquet was almost too much for it.

"Smaklig måltid, Crescent. Enjoy the meal."