Genesis (Man vs Machine #1)

3 | AFTERSHOCK

'What do you mean, he's dead?' said Warner, staring her down. Cress backed away a little, focusing on the wall behind Warner. She looked deathly pale, shifting her eyes between Warner's and the space around her boots.

Unsteadily, she answered him. ''They found his airship's remains fifty miles west of here.' Behind him, Alder dropped his holo-pad and swore as he bent to pick it up. There was a creak as he pushed his chair out and came to stand next to Warner.

'Remains?' Warner's eyes grew wide as it sunk in. 'Are they sure it's his ship?'

'Yeah, they're pretty sure.' Cress stepped up to the floating table and pulled up a comm. The blue-tinted hologram showed a smoking mass of metal, easily identifiable as the remains of an airship. EXODUS was printed in black letters across the hull. Alder shifted uncomfortably.

''They found three bodies. His pilot, his bodyguard, and the third, presumably the Commander.'

Warner sat down heavily. The chair sunk and then rose again. 'Presumably,' he muttered. The panic had drained out of him now, and he was focused and clinical. 'Is there any chance that he might have escaped?'

'With the way the ship was wrecked?' She sat down across from him. 'Zero chance.'

The doors to the meeting room slid open to reveal Warner's least favorite person. Second Lieutenant - by half a vote - Felix Grant was an imposing presence, taking up all the air in the room the second he stepped in. Warner looked away, pretending to be interested in the shivering hologram of Bayliss's face that also displayed his most recently documented height, weight, preferred assault weapons and status: DECEASED. He swallowed.

'I came as soon as I heard,' said Grant, breathing heavily. 'Excuse me if I'm late.' He sat on the mag-chair to Warner's left and gave the latter an apologetic smile.

Warner cleared his throat. 'Cress,' he said cautiously, 'please dictate the report to Lieutenant Grant.'

She did so, all the while staring intently at the projection of the ruined EXODUS. Grant tapped his fingers on the tabletop absently, and after Cress finished, the sound was the only one in the room.

Warner steepled his hands in front of him and creased his brow, watching as Cress tapped a flashing red light on the hologram. A comm opened, labeled URGENT and heavy with text, and she began to read, raising and furrowing her brow alternately. When she finished, she let out a small breath.

'There's news,' she said. 'Grant, congratulations. You're the new Commander of Intelligence Ops.' She didn't meet Grant's eyes, but the respect was there in her voice. Warner couldn't help inhaling sharply in shock, surprised that he - the First Lieutenant - wasn't the one receiving the promotion.

The four of them stood, and Warner first shook hands with his new Commander, smiling warmly despite the steady pulse of what could only be envy curling in his stomach. 'Nice work, Grant.' And somewhere inside, he meant it. It just didn't show on his face.

Grant was a good Lieutenant. Never once had Warner seen him arrive late to a meeting or assignment. He was on top of all his priorities, and handled relations with ease. He'd make a good Commander - not as good as Bayliss had been, but better than Warner would.

He swallowed that little truth down as Grant shook hands with Alder and Cress. Being Commander meant Grant would have to sit behind a desk all day. He wouldn't get to go on field missions anymore, and ergo Warner would take on his old missions, finish up their respective mission files and take the reports to Grant. Nothing too different from his current routine but for the fact that he was now under the command of his arch enemy.