Omega Force: Rebellion (OF11), стр. 63

The Phoenix shot down into the system along one of the approved decent lanes while the two large fleets continued towards each other, the aggressors broadcasting ridiculous threats and the defense force remaining silent as it repositioned. The big capital ships had admirable acceleration profiles, but they topped out around .075c on their subliminal drives. The aging HDF ships were even a shade slower than that as they lumbered out of orbit and straggled to form a picket line that the Eshquarian formation wouldn't be able to just skirt around.

Jason would never claim to be an expert in tactics and strategies when it came to big ships hammering away at each other, but he'd been around long enough to recognize certain patterns. The HDF response was unimaginative and textbook, the sort of thing that any unconfident commander might do as they tried to find comfort in the basics of their training. At first glance, he assumed that it was because both sides were orchestrated and timed carefully, but that didn't seem right. So much work had gone into making the Eshquarian fleet toothless that the Machine wouldn’t risk some HDF commander being in the loop on something like this. It would have likely pressed some poor hapless sucker into service, putting someone in command it could easily predict.

It seemed so overelaborate for something that could be considered a glorified weapons demonstration, but as Jason watched what remained of the Imperial Navy roar down to avenge the fall of their homeland—or at least that's what appeared to be happening—he understood the impact the Machine was going for. Ever since he'd come to live in the greater universe outside the Solar System, Jason had lived under common knowledge that the ConFed was the largest power in the quadrant, but the Eshquarian Empire kept them in check through superior military might. The spectacle about to unfold before him, coming right on the heels of the Empire's stunning defeat on their own turf, would drive home the point the Machine wanted to make: the ConFed ruled supreme and there was nobody that could hope to stand against them.

This would be broadcast on every major media carrier all the way to the border worlds. As far as propaganda went, this was as extreme a measure as Jason could ever remember seeing. But when the stakes were the control of the entire galactic quadrant, maybe it wasn't as outlandish as he'd originally thought.

"I think it's about time for you to make the decision, Captain," Kage said quietly. Everyone on the bridge turned to look at Jason. They'd told Mok that they had planned to simply disable the missiles so they were turned into ballistic space debris, then he could free the crews and try to recover as many of the Eshquarian ships as possible before the Machine figured out its plan has been subverted.

In Jason's mind, however, that plan was a wasted opportunity to strike a hard blow against the ConFed and send a loud message to the rest of the quadrant that, if they fought, they wouldn't be alone. He had Kage program a set of secondary protocols that Mok wasn't aware of, but the plan wasn't without high risk and grave consequences, even if successful. If Jason's secondary plan went off without a hitch, the retaliation from a wounded and humiliated ConFed would be fast and brutal, but likely unfocused. Many innocent people could suffer.

"I—" he started and looked away. "Guys…I don't think I can make this decision. It's too much. Too much can happen. If I'm wrong…if I fuck up and kick off a full-scale counterstrike on worlds that can't defend themselves… I can't do this."

"You have to, Captain," Crusher said firmly, standing and walking over to the pilot's station. "You have to because you're the only one who can. We're already at risk, but nobody else has been willing to even admit that we now live under the boot of a power that is no longer content to just bleed us dry through excessive taxation and one-sided trade treaties. Now, the ConFed has shown they're willing to cross that line from oppressive to truly tyrannical.

"You've never shrank from a fight since I've known you, so I know you're not afraid for yourself. This fight, this war, is bigger than anything else we've done together. Before it's all over, we'll have likely given everything and still come up short…but if what we do here today gives the rest of the people a fighting chance, wouldn't it have been worth it?"

Jason's palms were sweaty and his mouth was dry as he considered the words of one of his closest friends and a brother in arms. Crusher's own world was at just as much risk as Jason's, perhaps more so, and he was still willing to swing back at the Machine. He had never had to make a choice that could plunge a quarter of the galaxy into a full-scale war. While he wasn't sure what he thought it would feel like if he ever did, he was pretty sure the mixture of panic attack and stroke he was feeling now wasn't it.

You already know the right answer, Jason. This fight is coming, and you're right, many will suffer. Greatly. But that doesn't change the fact that this war will happen with or without you. You have a chance to be a spark right now that starts that fight before the other side has fully gathered its strength. You know what you have to do.

"Kage, load secondary protocols into the buffer," he said finally, Cas's words pushing him over the edge. "It looks like we've going from grubby mercenaries to full blown rebels…or traitors, depending on your point of view. Anybody got a problem with that?"

"This will probably screw up my pension if I'm labeled an enemy of the state," Crusher grumbled. "But what the hell…I actually didn't think any of us would even live this long anyway."

"Purging