The ADF was poised to strike a single, devastating blow to the Federation and, at the same time, isolate the Council so it would be powerless to try and stop it. When the operation was over, a new regime governing both nations would be born. The scope and ambition of the plan had at first terrified Makov, but now that fear had morphed into a more manageable anxiety that seemed omnipresent in his life now.

He knew if they were found out before they were ready to act that he'd be executed on the spot. To be honest, he probably still would be. Revolutionaries tended to die shortly after their revolutions took hold. But if they were successful, he will have cemented his place in history as the architect of the revolution that ended the wasteful, endless fighting between the enclaves and brought humanity under the unity of a single banner and purpose.

"Shall I order the decoy fleet recalled, sir?"

"Operational control is still at the discretion of Admiral Lawski," Makov said. He was a politician not a military man. "Just impress upon him the need to secure the assets on Exeter Base."

"Yes, sir."

The orderly retreated, leaving Makov alone in his office. He'd moved his entire operation aboard the Ascendency just as Chan had moved his offices aboard her sister ship, the Harmony. Both ships boasted an extensive communications suite, including something that even the highest levels of the Council had no idea even existed: the magical Bluebird technology from the Federation.

While Alliance scientists still had absolutely no idea how to even begin recreating the technology—or even how it worked, if they were honest—they had been able to obtain eleven of the priceless units from their various moles within CENTCOM. Each command ship had one, and the others had been distributed to each of their operational arena commanders with strict controls on usage put in place.

Makov had no idea how his people had gotten the things working but, somehow, they'd put the near-miraculous devices to use, and the ADF had been using them to coordinate their upcoming strike. The idea of turning the Federation's most dangerous advantage against them had a beautiful symmetry to it that Makov appreciated. In the end, the Federation would have killed itself. The corruption and rot from within gave the Alliance the tools needed to topple it.

"Soon," he said, turning from the porthole. The master clock on his office wall counted down the days. There was no stopping what was coming. He lamented the loss of life that would come with his actions, but nothing great was ever achieved without great sacrifice as well.

* * *

"Pitt! Wake up!"

"What? How did you get in here?!"

"There's no time for that!" Director Perez snapped. "Get your ass out of bed, now!"

Pitt was a career military man and, even as the highest ranking member of CENTCOM, responded to orders barked by an authoritative voice. He scrambled out of his rack and rubbed his eyes as CIS Director Perez, looking harried and hastily dressed, paced Pitt's bedroom as he talked on his comlink. Beyond the bedroom, Pitt could hear the familiar voices of Joseph Marcum and Celesta Wright. What the hell was going on?