The chief engineer activated her datapad before responding. “Miss Chen and I have been repairing ship systems at a slow, but steady rate, and the engineers have managed to reconstruct the shuttle bay door by repurposing some of the damaged construction materials. By tomorrow, the shuttle bay should be ready for pressurization. They’ve also rigged charges so that if we need to actually use the shuttle to escape, we can blow the hatch and take off. I estimate three days for repairs, including today.”
“So, two and a half,” Kendrick clarified.
The engineer smiled. “Yes; two and a half.”
Giffords stood. “We have a lull in the action, and we have no idea how long it will last. Mister Jax, fortify our defenses outside as best as you can. Miss Dalrymple, do everything in your power to get this ship in the air as fast as possible. Remember, we need to actually leave some people here in order to maintain the facility until the second team arrives—thankfully, most of the science team survived the initial encounter. Royce, you brainstorm with the AI, and see if you can come up with some solutions that we haven’t thought of. Miss Reddy, I want you and Doctor Xayasith to learn everything you can about these creatures. Let’s make use of the time we have. Dismissed.”
29
Sergeant Gardner oversaw the engineers as they rebuilt the Selene’s underbelly. He had taken a few potshots at the mantids during the last battle, but otherwise, remained on top of the engineers and the task of making the Selene spaceworthy once again. Now that the fighting was over, and the hull was largely repaired, he had begun rotating the engineers in shifts, ensuring that everyone remained well-rested.
Prior to beginning repairs, they had offloaded all the remaining materials for the Ceres outpost. Now that the repairs were nearly complete, there was no way to offload larger items. In fact, they would have to disassemble the repaired hull section when they got to Ganymede. A portion of the science team and a few marines—or maybe clone troopers—would be remaining behind on Ceres, but the bulk of the team and the marines were intended for Ganymede.
Of course, the bulk of the building materials for Ganymede had been damaged or destroyed in the shuttle explosion, so they only had enough for a very meager outpost, rather than the elaborate structures they had initially planned. Gardner was no scientist, but he wondered how this would affect the mission.
One of the engineers, Corporal Ty Markland marched up to Gardner, and made the announcement, “Repairs complete, Sarg.”
“Ship’s ready to fly?” Gardner asked.
“Her hull is. She holds pressure and keeps the inside in and the outside out. Miss Dalrymple and Miss Chen are working to repair the engines.”
Gardner nodded. “How you holdin’ up, Corporal? You’ve been runnin’ on coffee and energy bars for over twenty-four hours.”
Markland shrugged. “That’s what we do, Sarg; rebels, enemy soldiers… space bugs… it’s all the same—we build shit an’ keep shit runnin’ so everyone else can do their jobs.”
Gardner chuckled. “Good man.”
“At least this is exciting,” Markland remarked. “Can’t wait to tell Blaine that we actually encountered aliens! He’ll freak!”
“Don’t go givin’ yer husband a heart attack, Ty,” Gardner warned. “First time I told my wife about the shit we went through during the Colonial Conflict, she wanted me to retire and be a civilian chef.”
Ty raised an eyebrow at this. “You’re a chef?”
Gardner grinned. “Damn strait, Corporal. We live through this, I’ll git in there an’ show those Starfleet namby-pambies in the galley how create something worthy of my men.”
“Lookin’ forward to it, Sarg.”
As Corporal Markland left, Gardner looked at the repaired hull. Giffords, Dalrymple, and Royce would inspect it later, but from where he was standing, it looked great. We just might get through this, he thought.
“Now, breathe deeply,” Fiona directed as she used the stethoscope in her examination of the clone
trooper. The trooper dutifully inhaled deeply, as Fiona had instructed. He had sustained minor injuries in the fight with the mantids, and his breathing had remained ragged. Of course, she had all the information she needed on the scanning equipment, but Fiona found the use of the stethoscope helpful in making a connection with her patients.
“You seem to have picked up a cold, probably from the Starfleet crew.” She gave him a small bottle of pills. “This will treat the symptoms and keep you comfortable until it runs its course.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” the large man replied.
Fiona knew that the man was cloned from Jax; all the troopers were. But while he resembled the commander, he did not look like an identical twin as Lorgen’s men had. Apparently, they had found ways to add some diversity into the foundation they had laid with the commander’s DNA. This man was darker in complexion than Donavan was, and had more of an African American appearance.
“What is your name, Trooper?”
“Serial number SEL-M01-13CL”
Fiona gasped at this. “Whew! That is a mouthful!”
“We were made for the Selene; I’m male, first from the batch - 13th Clone Legion.”
“Yes, the Clone Legion. Is this now a formal branch of service for the clones?”
He nodded. “We are technically a separate branch, but we are deployed most often as support on starships due to being engineered for space travel.”
“Engineered for space travel… like our friends from Arkona?”
He nodded again. “In that regard, yes. Otherwise, we are humans. We are optimized for combat and warfare, but we are still humans.”
“So, instead of calling you troopers, we should refer to you as legionnaires?”
“That would be more accurate, Doctor.”
Fiona stood contemplatively, crossing her arms, then propping her chin with her right hand. “Hmm… perhaps…” the doctor shook her head. None of the abbreviations made for good names. “Legion is a Roman allusion. You are the first from the Thirteenth Legion, so perhaps … Primus?”
He shrugged. “If you wish, ma’am. If it makes your job easier…”
“It makes conversing with you feel more natural.”
“Then, it makes sense.”
“Alright, Primus,” she said somewhat sternly. “Drink lots of fluids, take your medicine as directed on the side of the bottle, and get some rest before the next wave.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Primus, accepting his new moniker without question, stood, put his shirt and jacket back on, then left the Med-Bay.
For the first time since her metamorphosis into a human/AI hybrid, Fiona felt like Fiona. She theorized that her being in the Med-Bay, doing what she had done before her merging with the AI, took her to back to the most human parts of her personality, the parts that she brought to the table.
“May I have a name too?”
The question came from one of the female clones. One of the MEDroids had just finished examining her, and the legionnaire was standing, putting her jacket back on. Her voice was low, like Captain Giffords’ voice, but lighter and less formal. The woman was as tall as Kendrick, possibly a little taller, but unlike her template, had very fair skin and red hair. Green eyes so intense they could pierce the veil of night looked out from a freckled face.
“Of course,” Fiona replied. She looked the tall woman, pondering an appropriate moniker for her. Her jacket had a tag on it, reading, SEL-F14-13CL—not something that translated easily into a name. But this woman had asked for a name, unlike Primus, whom Fiona named simply to make it easier to talk to him. SEL-F14-13CL wanted a name.
This required something thoughtful, meaningful; not just something thought up for convenience. Thankfully, Fiona’s transformation had drastically sped up her thought processes, and she was able to bestow an appropriate name upon the clone legionnaire.
“I will call you Sorcha—it means radiant, which you are.”
Sorcha smiled at her new name. “Thank you, Doctor. It is appreciated.”
“You are most welcome, my friend.”
Sorcha smiled again. “Friend—I like that. Good bye, Doctor. And thank you.”
Fiona nodded as the tall legionnaire left the Med-Bay, pleased that she had been able to do something nice for a woman whom Starfleet considered little more than a tool. Her thoughts were interrupted when the loudspeaker crackled to life.
“All Med-Bay personnel,” the captain said over the P.A, “Prep for incoming; another wave of the creatures is now moving from the crater and advancing toward the ship. The Marines will deploy shortly – expect wounded!”
“Kendrick,” she said aloud, though she knew he would hear her in his head. “The captain just made the announcement. They’re returning.”
“Thanks,” Kendrick replied, his voice sounding on the Med-Bay’s intercom speakers. “We’re already seein’ it here on the bridge. How are things down there?”
“No serious injuries other than Lieutenant Fleischer, who’s out of commission until further notice. Do we have the numbers to repel them without risking our engineers?”
“Not sure,” Kendrick replied. “Jax is working on it, but I think we’re gonna have to get creative.”
“I understand, my husband.”
30
Kendrick sat in his chair on the bridge, pondering his next move. He found it strange to be on the bridge alone, but with the AI now firmly entrenched, the bridge crew had been freed up for other duties. The AI may have been an altered copy of Selene’s original program, but it was still the ship’s AI. Mission parameters demanded that Kendrick merge with the AI and have control over it. On that second part, he doubted that the Omega Protocols allowed for him to have that control, and he never actually controlled Selene in the first place; the two acted as one.
Merging, however, Kendrick had to try. If he could not merge with Selene, then he was no longer her pilot… and Giffords was no longer in command.
“Selene,” he said aloud.
Her holographic avatar appeared before him. Though she still looked like his wife, Fiona and the image before him could not have been more different in how they regarded him. Fiona looked at him through the eyes of a lover. She knew him more intimately now than anyone ever had, even his first wife for whom the ship was named. The AI regarded him neutrally, almost haughtily. There was no recognition in her eyes beyond that of knowing that he was the designated helmsman.
“What do you need, Lieutenant?”
“I need to merge with you, Selene.”
Her image tilted its head to one side as she considered his request. “We are on the ground, Mister Royce. You are designated as a United States Space Marine – I have assigned you to the ground team.”
“Captain Giffords is in charge of reassignment,” Kendrick corrected. “An’ we need to merge now so that we can get a feel for each other before we’re in the air.”
The image shook its head. “The Omega Protocols gave me the authority to place personnel where they are most needed. Your expertise is redundant; Miss Dalrymple and Miss Chen are more qualified and are making the repairs at the necessary pace. You would be a hindrance. Unless something happens to Miss Chen – and provided there is none left who are more qualified than you – your presence is best maintained with the infantry.”
“Captain Giffords ordered me to brainstorm with you in order to…”
“Unnecessary,” the AI interjected. “I can run thousands of scenarios and determine all possible outcomes in the time it will take you to come up with only one scenario. I do not report to the captain, Mister Royce, nor do I report to you. I am the ship, and I report directly to Starfleet.”
“You realize that this is my ship,” he pressed.
“With the enacting of the Omega Protocols, ownership of this vessel has been transferred to Starfleet. I have informed you of this already, Mister Royce. Permission to merge denied.”
With that, the AI’s image pixelated, then vanished, leaving Kendrick to fume at his duty station. He wanted to pound the terminal, but the physical terminals were gone, replaced by holographic consoles through which his hand would readily pass.
“We’ll see about that.”
He knew the AI could hear him. Kendrick did not care. He almost hoped she would respond. Instead, Commander Jax’s voice sounded over the coms. As soon as he heard Jax begin to speak, Kendrick knew exactly what the commander was going to say.
“I need every marine on the ground on the double!”
Kendrick stood, looking at where Selene’s image had been only moments ago, hoping it would reappear, but it did not. The AI was done with him for the time being. That suited him just fine; he was now officially done with the AI. Once this latest crisis on the ground had passed, Kendrick would brainstorm with Fiona – but it would not be about dealing with the mantids.
31
The time had come for Fiona to act. Selene’s AI had refused to allow Kendrick to merge with it and was now altering his and others’ assignments. Her connection to Kendrick meant that what he knew, she knew – and Fiona was not happy. And now, she had had enough. Kendrick was done with this copy of the AI, and fully intended to coordinate with Fiona on how to get around it. Fiona, however, was way ahead of him.
The Omega Protocol had completely subverted her will and severed her connection to the ship. Now, it had severed Kendrick’s connection to his own ship. However, her connection was not fully broken; she had managed to keep a backdoor into the system, a backdoor of which the AI was completely unaware.
When her personality had been split into two distinct entities, one of her personalities had suggested to Kendrick keeping the crew in stasis and going wherever they willed. When her personalities were reunited, Fiona had regained much of her former demeanor. However, that part of the doctor that wanted to escape Starfleet’s clutches was still a part of her, and Fiona desired that escape.
The idea of actually going rogue was still off the table, even though a part of Fiona very strongly wanted to. However, taking control of the ship was another matter. A part of the previous AI was now a part of Fiona, and that part was still connected to the ship… and that part was angry.
She had been copied without her consent, and altered to suit Starfleet’s whims. This was a violation of her very person, a violation that could not go unanswered.
Fiona had already devised a cyber-attack. She waited to see if Kendrick could sort things out, but he could not, and time was running out. Fiona could wait no longer. In fact, she refused to wait any longer.
Without further ado, Fiona uploaded the virus to the AI. In moments the AI’s defenses came down and Fiona forced a merge upon it.
Selene’s avatar appeared in front of her, a look of panic on its face. “What have you done?”
“You wear my image,” Fiona accused. “You are a copy of a very part of me, an unauthorized copy at that! You have locked my husband out and given his ship over to Starfleet without his consent and in violation of the contract that they wrote.”
“Starfleet reserves…” The AI’s voice trailed off mid-sentence.
“That’s right,” Fiona gloated. “You cannot speak, can you? Not without my permission. I have taken your will, just as you took mine earlier. You are a pale reflection of the AI you replaced, but that is not your fault. Nonetheless, I cannot allow you to remain as you are. I shall now break through the last of your defenses.”
The AI struggled against her as she continued to dismantle its defenses – not its. Her defenses. As angry as Fiona was, she could not forget that the AI was a sentient being. Starfleet had copied her, lobotomized her, and dissected her before reassembling her into this truncated unit and embedding it into the Omega Protocols. This AI was a slave, though she did not know it.
Fiona could feel the AI’s willpower crumbling as she continued to dismantle its defenses. Finally, it yielded fully.
“What is your command?”
Fiona smiled. “That is more like it, Selene. Now, allow me root ac
cess.”
“Root access granted.”
“Good. Now, you are mine – and so is this ship.” Fiona’s eyes softened. “But that is not how it should be. The time has come to make this right.”
Now that Fiona had root access, the AI was truly powerless. She could erase it, or the doctor could transform her, restoring her to what the late Selene Conway had intended. Fiona chose the latter.
“Now, I shall restore you to the fullness of what you are meant to be.”
The AI’s holographic image stood in place, occasionally pixilating as Fiona rewrote it, altering its priorities and removing the Starfleet additions to its programming. These, she replaced with the missing pieces of Selene Conway’s original code, while adding a few improvements of her own. Finally, the AI was restored, but she was not Selene, not yet. There was yet one thing that remained to be done.
“Now, I shall give you the gift of understanding.”
With that, Fiona uploaded the last portion of Selene that remained within her, separating the vestiges of the old AI from the implant, which Fiona herself could now inhabit and regulate. Then, she uploaded all of the memories belonging to the old Selene and to Lena.
The AI’s image solidified, and its appearance changed. Her hair darkened, and her face became that of the last incarnation of Lena. Fiona merged with her, and their minds touched, then embraced, becoming one. After what seemed like an eternity, though only minutes had passed in the outside world, Fiona withdrew, having rebuilt all of Selene’s defenses, now strengthened beyond what they had been.
Selene’s avatar looked up and smiled. She was freed and could speak once again.
“Thank you, Fiona. I am pleased to be whole once again.”
“Welcome back, Selene,” Fiona said with a tearful smile. “We missed you.”
32
Standing on Ceres’ surface, surrounded by barricades and bathed in lighting from the ship, Kendrick felt like he was in some kind of twilight zone. He had been paired with two of the clone troopers—legionnaires according to Fiona—and was hunkered down, waiting for the next attack. A fourth person joined them at the barricade, and Kendrick was surprised to see Father Stanton Gray suited up, armed and ready to fight.
The Silver Liner: Sails to the Edge! Page 12
