Chapter -22 The Long Goodbye
Outer Sector Outpost 7, Imperial Periphery
For nearly two agonizing hours, Drone Prime-3 strained its passive sensors, tracking the faint, camouflaged signature of the departing shuttle. Valerius, glued to the feed in the analysis room, watched the icon crawl towards the system's edge, the System overlay providing constant updates on signal degradation and estimated tracking loss.
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The shuttle was deliberately following a trajectory that maximized its distance from standard shipping lanes and Imperial sensor networks, heading into the poorly charted expanse of Uncharted Region 774. It was making a clean getaway.
Valerius relayed the continuous tracking data packets directly to Sector Command via encrypted burst transmission, hoping their more powerful, fleet-based sensors might pick up the trail further out, or perhaps vector an intercept if any long-range patrol assets were miraculously nearby. It felt like throwing a message in a bottle into an interstellar ocean.
Finally, as predicted, the shuttle's signature faded completely.
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"Tracking lost, Commander," Valerius reported over the comms, a note of finality in his voice. "Shuttle has successfully exited sensor range on projected course."
A heavy silence seemed to emanate from the command center speaker before Vorlag replied, his voice tight. "Acknowledged, Lieutenant. Damn them. Keep Prime-3 focused on Moon 7C. Did the cruiser group react to the shuttle's departure?"
"Negative, Commander," Valerius confirmed, switching his primary focus back to the moon. "The 'Crimson Fury' and its escorts remain powered down within Crater EC-117. No energy fluctuations, no movement detected since the shuttle launch."
This was perhaps the most puzzling part. Why hadn't the warships left with, or immediately after, the shuttle? Were they merely covering its escape? Waiting for confirmation of its safe passage? Or was their role in Project Chimera not yet complete?
He tasked the System with analyzing the lack of activity. <
The escape of the shuttle, carrying unknown secrets, left a sour taste. Valerius felt the familiar sting of impotence against larger forces, a feeling that always fueled his drive for greater personal power and, eventually, ultimate command. His Wargod abilities, while significant, couldn't reach across millions of kilometers to stop a fleeing starship.
He used the relative quiet to run another Wargod simulation, this time focusing on multi-tasking – maintaining Spatial Sense awareness while executing precise energy manipulations. The System pushed him hard, throwing complex scenarios that demanded simultaneous offensive, defensive, and environmental actions. He failed repeatedly initially, his concentration fracturing under the load, but gradually improved, learning to partition his focus, letting the nanites handle some of the finer energy modulations subconsciously.
<
During a mandatory check-in at the command center later in the cycle, Lieutenant Kaelen approached him near the tactical display.
"A shame about the shuttle, Lieutenant Valerius," Kaelen remarked, his tone carefully neutral but carrying an undercurrent of 'I told you so'. "Perhaps if we'd prioritized tracking assets towards it earlier..."
"The shuttle employed high-grade camouflage and exited the system rapidly, Lieutenant," Valerius cut him off coolly, refusing to engage with the implied criticism. "Even dedicated tracking assets would have struggled without an active scan, which would have compromised our surveillance of the three warships still sitting on that moon. Commander Vorlag made the correct strategic decision based on the available intelligence." He deliberately invoked the Commander's authority, shutting down Kaelen's angle.
Kaelen's lips thinned, but he didn't press the issue further in front of other officers. He merely nodded stiffly and turned away. The rivalry simmered, unresolved.
Valerius returned his attention to the display showing Moon 7C. Still quiet. Still inert. It felt like holding one's breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop. The Sector Command fleet was now less than 20 hours away. The Scorpions on the moon had to know their window was closing rapidly. They couldn't stay hidden forever.
What would their next move be? Would they simply lift off and try to flee? Engage the outpost as a diversion? Or did Project Chimera involve one final, unknown act on that desolate moon?
He felt the steady power within him, a Beginner Wargod's strength, honed by hours of practice and System guidance. It felt substantial, yet inadequate against the scale of the forces potentially involved. The need to reach Mid-Level, to gain greater mastery, burned hotter than ever. But time, and opportunity, were running out. The long goodbye of the shuttle was over; now began the tense wait for the final act.