Under the opalescent glow of the Aqualora's grand dome, the congregation of minds lingered in a charged silence, their thoughts an unspoken tapestry of concern and curiosity.
Dr. Issabelle Ngo, her gaze as piercing as the bioluminescent tendrils outside, broke the silence with the sharpness of a scalpel.
"Let us consider the silent terror of the deep," she began, voice a melodic yet haunting undertone.
"What I propose is creating an organic enzyme, one tailored to corrode specific metals and materials of the Remnant civilization. Once their structure is compromised, the crushing weight of the ocean will take care of the rest."
Murmurs undulated around the table, reflecting off the acrylic like the faint ripples of a disturbed ocean surface. The idea of turning the ocean's pressure into a weapon, using science as a catalyst, was as intriguing as it was formidable.
Giving the concept a moment to sink in, Issabelle continued. Her voice as cold as the abyss beyond the glass dome itself.
"It will be rapid, there will be no time for their brains to process what happened, it will be clean and merciful. Furthermore, the enzyme can be designed to be excreted by any number of plants or algae, and spread across the globe, eradicating the entire civilization in one fell swoop while being entirely harmless to our own alloys."
Silence filled the room once more for a while as the proposal sank in. It would indeed be effective.
Ezekial "Zeke" Hawkins cleared his throat, a sound that resonated with his stature. "There's another path," he proposed.
"The sonar capability of the Aqualora is immense and finely tunable. Perhaps we can harness this, calibrate an extreme frequency to resonate with the materials of their ships. Vibrations alone could tear them apart from the inside out. The sonar is powerful enough to boil and evaporate the very water itself within certain proximity, that force can be weaponized rather easily."
The room hummed with the potential of such power as those present began to murmur and debate on methods to proceed with, each one reflecting the complete technological superiority that they held over the Remnants, and the militarized training every citizen was brought up on.
You see, in this society, where nothing ruled over the population, and each person was responsible for themselves and required to uphold the Solar Constitution, their education was rather deep.
Through the use of neural implants and subspaces, children were kept within simulations until they reached effective adulthood. Some did so much more rapidly than others, but none were allowed out of simulation and into the real world until they passed basic educational milestones and displayed adequate levels of emotional and intellectual maturity.
Among their education was rigorous strategic military training, so that every member of society was like a battalion of trained soldiers. In a practice that dated back centuries and had roots in many civilizations of the past, the current society held a deep-rooted belief that the most stable society was one where every member was a lethal weapon. Only through the knowledge that every person one came across was immensely dangerous, could society maintain its autonomy, as the very notion of attempting to subjugate such a population was nigh impossible, regardless of one's wealth and background.
After all, when every citizen wielded the power to effectively level an entire colony or utterly devastate the surface of a planet, oppressing them was very difficult to do. The very people themselves were effectively strategic weapons of mass destruction that ensured peace and prosperity through the age tested concept of mutually assured destruction.
At this point in the discussion, another voice quieted the others and spoke out.
Klara Schmidt, the agricultural head, leaned forward. Her eyes, the color of sea foam as she began to speak.
"We've harnessed sound for destruction, yes, but also for communication. What if we attempt to reach them? Establish a dialogue, even now. Our technology can bridge languages, decode intentions. It's a peaceful overture, a hand extended into the merciless void."
The discourse of precise and violent methods came to an end as the others pondered the new proposal.
Dr. Maya Atwood sat, contemplative, the madness in her eyes now tamed by the flicker of a different kind of insanity—a brilliance that often walked hand in hand with creation.
"And if we think laterally?" she suggested. "Instead of direct confrontation or communication, we seed their sensors and reports with misinformation. Use AGI to fabricate signals, create ghost fleets, phantoms to lead them astray. The Remnants seek solidity in their actions; we offer them shadows. Plunge them into uncertainty and chaos."
A mischievous grin spread across her face as she gave the proposal, reflecting the attitude of a feline toying with its prey.
The council, a collection of some of the finest minds beneath the waves, took to her words with the weight of the ocean's depths. They convened in smaller groups, discussions ebbing and flowing, arguments and agreements undulating like the sea grass in the Aqualora's farms.
Through it all, Jericho watched, silent and inscrutable, his mind casting forward to the tendrils of possibility that each proposal wove into the fabric of their survival, his expression like the still surface of a dormant volcano, betraying nothing of the volcanic activity beneath.
Each suggestion hung suspended, like the particles of a nebula, offering pathways as divergent as the stars. These ideas, seeded by the finest minds of the Aqualora, were the beginning of a strategy, a multifaceted approach to an ancient threat—Remnants of a bygone era that sought to encroach upon a society built upon the very absence of their kind.
And he was the one in charge of being able to carry it out, acting on behalf of the colony as the defense contractor stationed there.
The gravity of their deliberation was as heavy as the water pressure outside the transparent walls, each member acutely aware that the choices they made here would ripple across the vast expanse of their underwater world, potentially shaping the future of all who thrived within the embrace of the Aqualora.
The conference stretched on, time ebbing and flowing as did the currents that caressed the Aqualora's exterior. Further nuances were explored; the bioengineering team expounded on the challenges of engineering an enzyme potent enough to dismantle alien alloys, and yet benign to the growth of life across the globe.
They were after all, here to restore the climate of the earth and make it habitable again.
The communications team dissected frequencies, pondering the ethical implications of sonic assaults versus the gestalt of establishing contact.
The AGI specialists debated the approach of deception in war, the creation of false signals that could lead the remnants on a wild chase through the abyssal plains.
After several hours of discourse, Jericho placed his palms upon the table before him, silencing the congregation with a simple and quiet act before speaking.
"Dr. Ngo, proceed with the plan to create an enzyme capable of compromising the structural integrity of their materials. Collect any data you need to accomplish the task, but do not deploy it yet, just have it ready."
"Ezekial, work alongside Dr. Ngo and use the data collected to determine the necessary frequencies to also compromise their materials."
"Dr. Atwood, begin preparations to create an invasive virus to infect the databases of their entire civilization, make it difficult to detect and able to lie dormant as long as we wish, and gather intelligence on the enemy to relay back to us so that we fully understand their situation and plans, and proceed with your plan to deceive them through misinformation."
"Klara, work alongside Dr. Ngo and aid her in readying a carrier for the enzyme that we can seed the planets oceans with and be sure to format the data so that we can send the details to the other colonies to have them also be able to deploy it at a moment's notice."
"Alice, gather a few of the diplomatic AGI to establish communications with the Remnants through any means necessary. Even if that means Hijacking one of their vessels to use as an envoy. It is time we met our neighbors."
Upon concluding his orders, Jericho dismissed himself and left the conference, heading towards the manufacturing wing of the facility to check in on the progress of the fleet being constructed.