Chromium

Chapter 20

First draft

Two days after bombing the Greenhouse, Dia and Omen were in the tactical room, attempting to take stock of the situation.

"So? How is it going?"

Omen shrugged. "Rodriguez managed to hire a few techs to help with the repairs, but the Nostromus is in bad shape. It will take some time to get it up and running."

She looked out the window. The blizzard was still in full swing. "The weather isn't helping either." 

Even with a force field surrounding the ship, the weather conditions were so bad that the techs were forced to wear environmental suits. Under those circumstances, trying to repair a spaceship, seemed foolish.  Unfortunately, they hadn't had much choice. Mitchell had made it very clear that the vessel was inoperable and categorically refused to fly, even going so far as to quote the Empire's flying regulation chapter and verse in order to convince the rest of the crew. The pilot had been unusually stubborn, but she was also right. Everybody knew that the Nostromus was in bad shape to begin with, and using the hyperdrive had done nothing but make matters worse. Besides, now that the Umbra was gone, they were in no hurry to leave. 

That didn't mean they had to like it. Willis, in particular, had made a bit of a fuss but eventually relented when Omen told him he could use the shuttle to visit the Undercity. Dia, on the other hand, didn't mind being stuck in the middle of nowhere. Now that she had some time on her hands, she could finally figure out what to do with her life.  Besides, there were still many unanswered questions. One of them, in particular, was driving her crazy.

Dia squinted her eyes, scrunched her face and scratched her head with such strength, it seemed she was trying to dig a tunnel in her skull. She was making the exact same face she used to do in advance math class.  Needless to say, math had never been her strong suit.

Omen seemed to notice her distress and asked, "Something's wrong?" 

"No, it's just that...I don't get it." Dia shook her head, a look of frustrated irritation crossing her face. "What was the Umbra trying to accomplish? An army of loyal cyborgs is useful, I get that, but we both know that without a fleet,  ground troops are essentially useless."

"And the Umbra's fleet is nothing to write home about. " Omen nodded thoughtfully, then shook her head. "I know what you're getting at, but...sorry, I have no answers for you, Dia."

"Captain, I might be able to shed some light on the problem." Mitchell interjected.

"Mitchell? Have you finished analyzing the data we recovered from the Greenhouse?"

"Affirmative, captain. I've been running facial recognition through the Empire's database in order to identify the cyborgs."

"And?" He urged her. "What did you find?"

"As you suspected, most of the cyborgs were former imperial troops, soldiers of fortune, mercenaries. Basically, highly-skilled combat experts."

"Most of the cyborgs? What about the rest?"

"Almost a third of the cyborgs were Navy's officers,  pilots, sailors, even pirates." 

Omen and Dia exchanged a glance. All those people had one thing in common.

"Sailors? What did the Umbra need them for?" Dia asked, though she already knew the answer. 

She just couldn't accept it.

"Seems pretty obvious. He was planning to build a fleet." Omen said glumly.

"I concur, captain." Mitchell said. "That seems the most likely explanation."