Repercussions

by M. D. Cooper

  “Whoa! Easy there, Mal!” Geoff leaned back in his chair and looked up toward the ceiling, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

  “I know you aren’t all knowing. It’s just whenever I talk with an AI and I have something new or cool to share, they already seem to know about it.”

 

  Geoff had the ship lined up and was on the first leg of their course. From what the plot said, it should give them about two hours until the next maneuver.

  “OK, I will tell you what I know, but I’m going to get something to eat while I have the time.”

  He knew the AI would be able to hear him from anywhere on the ship. With the downtime, it was the perfect chance to grab some food and maybe a quick nap.

  Geoff entered the galley and worked on making himself a sandwich. The last time he’d had downtime on a station, he’d grabbed a few groceries. He didn’t mind the military rations they provided for the ships, but he planned to take advantage of the galley area. He was debating his options, chuckling as he thought over the rumors he heard about BLTs being named the official sandwich of New Canaan. Not being a huge fan of the ‘T’ part of the BLT, he thought, not friggin’ likely.

  Malcolm seemed generally confused and only became more so when Geoff started laughing.

  “Sorry, I didn’t realize I said that out loud. It’s nothing, not even relevant to our conversation.”

  Geoff was making a rather large club sandwich for himself as he began to tell the AI the things he’d heard and knew about Admiral Tanis Richards.

  “I told you, I was in the TSF before I became part of the crew of the Intrepid. I was a shuttle pilot, rated to fly just about anything we had on our decks. During my time in the TSF, I spent a lot of time carrying people from ship to ship, or ship to station. Even planetary landings were not uncommon. I did my fair share of cargo transfers, but I also did a lot of personnel transfers. Because I was able to get a fairly high security clearance, I got detailed to piloting the shuttles used to transport more of the high-ranking personnel. Pilots needed security clearance, since there wasn’t much separation between the passenger area and the cockpit.”

 

  Geoff sat at the small table in the galley with his sandwich and a glass of juice. “You know, I never put two and two together. Is that why we are always pulling the bigger pieces out?”

 

  “Hey! You ID the pieces, I move them,” Geoff said around bites of his sandwich. “Mind if I continue?”

  was Mal’s only reply.

  “So, it was a few years before I requested transfer to the GSS, maybe a decade or so. I was stationed on High Terra and had just been handed a priority run to the TSF Arcturus. I was told my contact would be Agent Brennan from the TBI and that I was to follow his orders once he was onboard.

  “Well, I got to the Arcturus, and when I landed, I saw Agent Brennan, along with four military police. The MPs had formed a circle around a young blonde woman wearing a prisoner’s jumpsuit and restraints. They all got onboard, and Brennan gave me coordinates for a landing pad on High Terra. I plugged the coordinates in and realized I already had priority clearance and approach vectors. Whoever this prisoner was, they wanted to get her to the ring ASAP.

  “Other than that, it was an uneventful flight. The MPs didn’t come with us, just made sure that the prisoner was restrained in her chair. Brennan didn’t say another word to me the whole flight. Once we landed, he and the prisoner left, and I went back to the hangar and went on with my life.”

 

  Mal was genuinely curious by now. It wasn’t like Geoff to just tell a random story with no point. Sure, he rambled a bit when he was flying, but never when they were just talking like this.

  “The point is who the prisoner was, or rather, who she would turn out to be.”

  Geoff stopped eating and took a long drink from his glass as he stared at nothing.

  “A few days later, the story hit the news feeds, and we all watched as it unfolded. Not a lot was told about why the TSF was there, operational security and whatnot, but they covered the aftermath. The story they told was of a TSF major who went off mission and destroyed an entire station. Men, women, children, AIs. No one survived the destruction of Toro. From the footage they showed, she opened fire on fleeing ships who were just trying to escape. But once they showed the major’s face, I recognized her as the prisoner on the shuttle. It was Major Richards.

  “The whole time she was on the shuttle, she sat there with this look of righteous indignation on her face. Not even showing one ounce of regret for what she did; hell, she looked proud of herself. Well, the feeds named her ‘The Butcher of Toro’, and it stuck. Eventually the news gave way to something bigger, as it always does, and she was forgotten. Never really gave any follow-up on her sentence, except for her getting busted down in rank.”

 

  Mal desperately wished he had access to a better Link connection. He did, however, place a request for a full biography and service record for Admiral Richards. He only asked for information available at his clearance level, which was considerably higher than he let on, and kept his query limited to military databases. He wanted the truth about her, not the stuff they were teaching kids in school.

 

  “Imagine how surprised I was when I saw her getting onto the Intrepid! Last I saw of her, she was in chains. Next thing I know, she shows up here as the head of security. Ever since she came here, this has all gone to hell.”

  Geoff stood with his sandwich half-eaten and walked over to the recycler.

  “I don’t even have an appetite anymore. What idiot would put the ‘Butcher’ in charge of keeping people safe? She’s a murderer! Killed thousands of innocents! And look where we are now. So far off course that half the people here don’t even know what year it is! Oh, and the ‘peaceful’ colony mission has resulted in three major battles where we were the primary target.”

  Geoff threw his sandwich into the recycler with an air of finality and returned to the bridge.

  DANCING

  STELLAR DATE 04.05.8948 (Adjusted Years)

  LOCATION: ISS SO211A

  REGION: Orion Guard Debris Field, New Canaan System

  Mal watched Geoff leave the galley. If he could have hung his head and sighed, he would have. Deep down, he knew the admiral wasn’t universally loved. However, he spent most of his time around the ISF, where Admiral Richards enjoyed an almost cult-like following.

  He knew it could take a while for his data request to be answered, so he switched his awareness to where Geoff was getting settled back into the pilot’s chair.

 

  Geoff continued to check his instruments and verify they were still on course as he replied. “Never came up before. While I will never love Tanis Richards, I have made peace with her being in charge.”

  He stared at the screen and reviewed status readouts for the various thrust systems the ship used. “Mal, can you take a look at the port side number six thruster? It’s acting a little strange.”

 

 
“Thanks. Like I was saying, I was OK with her. Yeah we seemed to fly from one fight to the next, but we always came out on top. I’ve seen the tactics she’s used, but brutal as they may be, she’s used them to protect her crew. I respect that.” He adjusted a few of the readings on the screen. “That thruster is looking better, what was going on?”

 

  “Thanks, Mal. Sorry if I snapped earlier; I really hoped we were getting away from all the fighting, but right now it sure doesn’t seem like it. Let’s focus on the next task, what do you think we’ll be picking up—” Geoff was cut off as an alarm started blaring from his control panel, at the same time Mal started speaking.

 

  “And your own calculations of their paths?” Geoff smirked as he watched the sensor suite update the region.

  Mal seemed a bit more smug than usual this time.

  “Never doubted you for a minute, buddy. What the stars happened out there?”

  Geoff saw the probability cones solidify, and began to maneuver the tug to ensure he stayed on the proper path.

 

  “Wait, you mean to tell me,” Geoff’s grin was soon large enough to rival a certain cat’s from almost seven thousand years before, “they didn’t look for a clear path before they moved? Maybe because what was inside the piece they were moving was more valuable than what was around it?”

  was Mal’s concise reply.

  “Oh no, buddy! I want you to admit it.”

 

  “Yessir! I want to hear it from your lips to my ears. I mean, not literally, I…uh…you know what I mean!”

  Geoff had begun to laugh, and was starting to shake, trying to hold it in.

 

  “Close, but I was thinking more along the lines of ‘this exact situation’.” Geoff laid back in his seat and blew out a long breath. “Thanks, Mal, I needed that.”

  Mal practically yelled over the Link.

  Geoff didn’t wait for the AI to finish; he had already begun moving the tug to get clear of the debris. It was coming in from slightly up and to the left from his perspective, and it was going to be right in his path no matter what direction he went. This tug was able to generate massive amounts of power, as it was ringed in directional thrusters. But having a few thousand tons of metal attached to the nose played hell with maneuvering.

  “Fuck! I need some options here, Mal!” Geoff was trying to find a path that would enable him to get the tug clear. “This shit is coming from the worst possible direction. I really don’t want to use this hull as a shield. “

  Mal was running probabilities based on time to impact and the performance characteristics of the tug. It wasn’t looking good.

  “I just don’t want it to break up and turn this one trip into five or more.”

 

  “Yea but an ass-load of them does not make for a good day.”

 

  “Yeah, means a huge amount. An old chief once explained it to me. A shit-load is a lot; however, an ass-load is way more, since a shit-load fits into an ass-load.”

 

  “And?”

 

  “Ready to go. Call the changes, and I’ll make the magic happen.”

 

  “Down twenty, ten left.”

 

  Geoff was able to keep up with Mal’s commands, but just barely. He was a damn fine pilot, though, and saw where Mal wanted him to head almost at the same time that Mal called out his directions. Only a few days together, and they were already starting to perform like a crew who had been together for years.

  After a few minutes of maneuvering, they were clear of the first wave.

 

  “OK, let’s do the dance again. Ready when you are.”

  Geoff shook his hands to loosen them up, placing them back on the controls in a loose grip.

  This time, the commands came flying in almost faster than Geoff could keep up.

 

 

 

  “Translating down!” Geoff said as he attempted to dodge the incoming debris.

 

  “Give me more power to the thruster.” Geoff was watching the piece get bigger with each passing second; it didn’t look like they would clear it in time.

 

  “I’ve got it.” Geoff’s face was locked in a look of determination. As if he could will physics to step aside and keep him and his new friend alive.

 

  Geoff let out a sigh of relief as the tug slid under the debris just as it passed overhead. He had just begun to relax when he heard a loud bang from the top of the ship.

  “Dammit! Thruster six is acting funny again.”

 

  “You watch the sensors and paint anything that looks like it is going to damage us. That was way too close.”

  Geoff grimaced as his HUD became filled with lines and trajectories, so much so, that they were all he could see.

  “Asshole!” he grunted as he maneuvered out of the path of an engine cone that was hell-bent on destroying them. Mal began laughing over the Link as the HUD cleared up, showing only objects with a high likelihood of impacting them.

 

  “What happened to it?” Geoff slid the tug around another piece of debris, noting that the ship seemed a bit more responsive.

  spond with the shaking pattern, effectively negating it.>

  “Damn, the AI version of duct tape and baling wire.”

 

  “You are a stars damned mad scientist sometimes! One day I’ll get you to tell me how you learned all this stuff. And don’t say from research—some of the crap you come up with, you can only get with experience.”

  After a final maneuver around what appeared to be a shipping container, Mal confirmed they were out of the worst of it.

  “OK, we are going to need to plot a new course, and I may have to go check my shipsuit. When that piece hit us, I think I let something go.”

 

  “We already covered that!” Geoff began mapping out a new course to get them to the marshalling areas. “Doesn’t look too bad. All that will have added maybe an extra hour to our trip, but we will arrive in one piece with all of our salvage. Maybe when this is all over, we can buy a ship and do this full-time!”

  Mal wasn’t sure if Geoff was serious or not, and decided to let that comment slide until later. He liked working with Geoff, even if his sense of humor could be childish at times. But he was out here, back in the black, which is what he truly loved.

  Humans would never understand the intensity of being a ship’s AI. The amount of sensory data he had access to when in a ship was overwhelming at first, but after a while, it became almost like a drug. Feeling solar winds blowing across the skin of the ship, seeing all the frequencies a star could light up a spectrum with. Listening to the background noise of the quantum foam. Nothing else in the universe felt so much like freedom to Mal, and it was hard to give up.

  He knew that Geoff loved to be behind the controls of a ship just as much. Just watching all the anger and frustration the human had been feeling leave his body when he was engrossed in flying, told Mal all he needed to know. Geoff was turning out to be a pretty good guy. Maybe even one day, he would be a good friend, as well.