2.31.2

Fallout (Epilogue, Pt. 1)

She experienced grief before but never like this. With Karth, the captain had been there to talk her through it. To convince her the commander, and others, would not blame her, or regret the loss.

But there lay no such comfort in this death.

Senseless. Mindless. Desperate. Personal, and yet indiscriminatory, as the S.O. cared increasingly less about who they hurt.

Astrid felt numb to everything. To the children still cowered in the Aldebaran’s hold, and to the teammates that stood guard over where she sat in the field, to stare out over the destruction.

Law enforcement arrived, with the aid of a Crisis Response team. The lieutenant-commander took responsibility for coordinating the care and catalogue of the bodies with the civilian forces. For the team couldn’t move on until the situation was well in hand. And they guarded the scarred battleground and its evidence with fervor.

The capital fell under roadblock while city officials took account of the damage.

Eames himself took personal watch over Astrid while the response teams cleared the field. For those of the public that saw only a Channeler in their midst, the presence of a Guardian comforted them. No matter how incidental. And it freed up the EMS soldiers to perform their duty.

He didn’t speak to her, but his presence made itself known all the same.

When strangers came to take Opal’s body, Astrid didn’t fight it. It wasn’t Opal anymore. And only then did her companions manage to drag her off the field, too.

She held no memory of passing the other Channelers once returned to the Aldebaran. If they posed questions, she heard none.

She presented herself, not to her captain, but to the storage room brig. Away from the engines. Indeed, away from anyone. And there she stayed. A fitting room for her to dwell in the prison of her mind.

The guilt and grief kept her mute and distant to anyone who tried to reach her. Maya and Finn came to say goodbye after the fleet organized individual transport for each group to return to their Sanctuary. Occasionally, each of the ground team came to sit with her. Even Ramsey when he recovered. But she met neither their prying attempts to connect, nor even their individual gaze.

She only vaguely wondered about the things that should disturb her. Not the least of which how the S.O. still seemed so well supplied. With even more guns, better gear, and their own ships. It would be the thing to keep her up at night if she weren’t already haunted. But, at least for now, she couldn’t bring herself to care.

She felt… changed. Nothing pierced the veil that settled over her emotions.

In the wake of evolution, and expenditure of her power, headaches throbbed through her brain. But she welcomed them. It came the only thing to give tangibility to the misery within.

Her friends frequently came to report to her as things developed, all the same.

Not all camera crews and reporters arrived at the park in time to catch the catalyst that started it, or the battle that ensued after. But all caught the footage of Astrid discharging wildly in the field and scorching the earth. And it was that video that played in repetition across channels.

Government officials wanted the Channeler as far away from Septimus as possible. Some wanted nothing to do with the upheaval her presence brought. Others provided it wasn’t safe for her when a disturbed populace grasped for an obvious target for their blame and fear.

A few, very few, knew the truth, and regarded her as either a hero, or a victim herself. But that meant nothing to Astrid either.

The S.O. slipped away. They left many bodies in the field, but because of the laws against warfare over the city, the Castor could not fire on the Defiance. They gave chase until the S.O.’s ship broke the boundary line. At which point, they fled the planet. The Castor pursued but lost them in the burn of the atmo-break.

Colonel Randolf searched the immediate space, but the task to hunt the rogue ship eventually passed to the Third Fleet, as the Castor had to return to their own assignment.

The Second Fleet, the one in charge of guarding the colonies, assigned a ship to each of Sanctuaries, to coordinate with the Guardians and protect each settlement until further notice.

Finally, under the gaze of the public, the Sanctuaries warranted protection. But Astrid guessed some may never feel safe, or at peace, again. Just as she could not.

Reports of the “attack” stretched all over the colonies. And while it didn’t deliver as clear a narrative as the Static Opposition likely hoped, it still provoked enough commotion and disarray that anarchy spread anyway.

Tenya pointed out that while the chaos would eventually pass, they had been right that the Channeler debate finally pushed front and center to the eye of society abroad.

Yet, amid all, one Channeler face, and name, repeatedly resurfaced. Identified to the public, over and over.

And almost overnight, Astrid Hale became a widespread name.

Many of the politicians that conducted legislature on Septimus that day fell ill. Some took damage to their internal organs, and doctors reported with wonder and concern both in determining the type of injuries endured.

Only three died. But they were, as Astrid heard, terrible deaths. The Channeler children, while powerful, remained as crude and unfocused as the faction that wielded them.

The people called for justice. They demanded answers. And sadly, neither the Septimus Governance, nor the Earthen Military Service, could provide any explanation a vengeful populace deemed satisfactory.

People divided, just as London predicted.

Some saw the Channelers as oppressed children, no less kidnapped at infancy than they were by a rebellious force that then easily manipulated them. Some saw missed opportunities for advancements in society, and a species, that the Channelers were not put to better use side by side with Statics where their powers could be harnessed for the greater good.

Some simply saw Astrid as a champion to the abused.

But others rallied to yet another demonstration of treacherous inevitabilities. They argued, as the Opposition did, not that the Channelers held ill intent. But that they didn’t—and it wouldn’t matter. Their very nature made them a danger that could not be ignored and neglected to fester.

It seemed Admiral Mays and the Board put off addressing their part in the ensuing dilemma as long as they could. To give time for tempers to calm and reason to surface, however in vain.

But no one could stop that the fault, and criticism, lay at the feet at the one organization, and soldier, that could be openly named.

~~~

Returned to Fort Magnus, Astrid and her captain attended a meeting with a coalition of powers held in the base’s massive comm center. It would seem a marvel, if the Channeler could summon the energy or will to give a damn.

With the inner lights turned off, it would be dark room. Save for the carefully orchestrated tech that facilitated a virtual colonial-wide call.

When they arrived, Admiral Mays stood in an illuminated ring, where sensors scanned her form for projection elsewhere. And in a semi-circle at the head of the room before her, stacked in three rows and columns: nine mounted, frameless, polymer monitors caught the light of their own projected images.

In each screen, a different head of power looked down on the woman at center. Some in suits, with Civic Seals behind. Leaders and Representatives of the colonies. In others, Service uniformed officers, and Military Directors, groused in turn. Many of the colonial governorships attended. But the Channeler did not find Septimus among them. A telling and worrisome abstention.

Yet, Astrid suspected, their conversation broadcast to others not welcome to actively partake in such a meeting. But who knew how many news station and intelligence agencies watched. The Channeler could only imagine someone in the Static Opposition itself bore witness.

Mays spoke on her behalf. But Astrid herself remained still and mute at the back, even when she and London, too, stepped into the ring of light and sensors scanned their bodies.

Not once could she dare herself to look at her captain, either. It was the closest she’d been to him since the battle, and they passed not a word before. Perhaps he thought it normal, as surely the others also reported her reluctance to speak.

But she didn’t know what would come out of her mouth if he saw what loomed in her eyes now.

Her anger still clung to her so deeply she cared not for what anyone else thought. Even in her malcontent she knew that could only harm their cause. So, she maintained her silence.

“If our specialist hadn’t been there, this would have been much worse,” Mays insisted to the screens ahead. “The attack was stopped, not by law enforcement, but by us! Because of Specialist Hale!”

“Nevertheless, Admiral,” a woman in one of the screens admonished. “This never could have happened without the Channelers.”

Captain London joined in seamlessly.

“The Static Opposition recruited members and commissioned weapons long before any of the Channelers were involved. We saw that in this event. They wanted this. They instigated it! They would have always found a way.”

“An organization yet to be located. You cannot even name their current leaders, and until we do, they cannot be charged,” another argued. “Investigations yet pend on Septimus, and abroad, but this we can deal with now.

“You must understand that this ‘Opposition’ has yet to be acknowledged by the public. Their alleged crimes are invisible to the people. And on the field of battle, all dead look like victims, including those of the Opposition.

“This is the footage they see,” a man gestured before his own screen flipped to a visage of Astrid casting bolts and cones upon the Statics. Then of her final discharge, a spectacular and terrifying display to most.

The debate shifted to another on the monitors. Astrid read by the tag under his name that the man spoke as Governor to the Morda Colony.

“For one year the Service entertained this initiative, and already it has come to this. We cannot preserve peace if we do not at least address the reasonable concerns of others!

“Perhaps the Channelers are innocent victims of circumstance. So are all humans that are deceased or made violent by mental illness. But we do not permit them to permeate, risk, or terrorize, the general population!”

Admiral Mays listened intently. And for a moment, Astrid wondered if the admiral reconsidered their initiative, and her place in it. She would either need to back off now, or whole heartedly commit to, and defend, the idea of a Channeler Division.

Now, everyone looked to choose sides.

The time for indecision passed. But at this point, Astrid trusted no one enough to make assumptions.

“Admiral Mays?” The Morda governor prompted a response.

“The Channelers are not diseased, neither are they criminals, Governor Glenndale. They are humans, further along in our eventual evolution. They are our genetic destiny. To condemn them now is to condemn Humanity as a species. Someday, this will be all of us.

“There is no debate to be made as to whether or not the Channelers are worthy of being saved. Or protected!” Mays put to them. “We should be discussing how to protect our people, all our people, from the conflict all progress brings.

“Like it or not, more Channelers will come,” she further asserted. “And they will not be oppressed forever. We must respond with reason, now, and focus on shaping this development before it throws us into war for years to come!”

“The people are unwilling to open their ears until they feel heard,” another condemned. “And they’re scared. Even to further your own goals of Channeler integration, the population needs to see we’re going to do something about acts such as these.”

“Astrid Hale is only taking the brunt of this because she’s the most prominent. Not because she’s responsible!” Captain London insisted. “They call her name because they know no one else’s!”

“At some point, Captain, our hands are tied. To maintain authority in this discussion a show of culpability is necessary. For her own safety, and even for the good of your efforts in the long term, Captain London, Astrid Hale must be held accountable for her part. I suggest she be suspended and detained.”