Forerunner

by Isaac Hooke

  He dispatched two rovers toward the termites, while Xander did the same in his section. The rovers wrapped their pincers around one termite each and squeezed, activating their laser cutters at the same time; the termites fell away, cut in half. Two of the other termites fled, while one leaped on the closest rover, and began scrambling across its back. The rover couldn’t reach it, but the other rover promptly caught it, and sliced it in two.

  The rovers ran toward the fleeing termites but were promptly struck by plasma beams from the lobsters.

  “Damn it.”

  Jain sent two rovers crawling up a bulkhead, and onto the overhead; meanwhile, he had another two rush the lobsters to distract them, and he sent another two to chase the termites.

  The lobsters turned their attention on the incoming rovers, and shot them down, but that gave the other two the diversion they needed to pounce and destroy the termites. The three lobsters spun to fire their plasmas at the latter pair, but Jain had his remaining three rovers rush them.

  The lobsters turned back, but then the two crabs on the ceiling dropped down, landing on one lobster each. Meanwhile the three reached them, and between them, they managed to cut off the plasma-throwing heads of the lobsters, losing only one more of their numbers.

  Jain turned his attention to Xander’s group; he’d successfully surrounded and terminated the lobsters as well, and as Jain watched, two rovers hunted down and squashed the last of the termites there.

  Jain quickly hopped between the remaining security teams that had been dispatched to the different breaches throughout the ship, and he took control from the rovers if there were any problems—which was often. Xander took control of different groups, and between them they managed to repel the boarding parties.

  “I have an update on the battle space for you,” Xander said.

  “Tell me,” Jain said.

  “The Hippogriff crested the horizon of the moon while the alien mothership was fleeing,” Xander said. “The Hippogriff has been disabled. No damage to the alien mothership.”

  “Damn it,” Jain said. “I told him not to leave Sheila’s side.”

  “The Wheelbarrow should be safe,” Xander said. “The mothership is continuing away from the moon. They’ve had enough fighting for the day.”

  “All right, well, let me know if the alien vessel changes course to intercept her,” Jain said.

  “I’m ready to teleport if you need me to,” Cranston said.

  “Not yet,” Jain said. “Deal with your unwelcome guests, first.”

  In about ten minutes, Jain had finally cleared his ship of the alien lobsters and termites. Jain sent rovers crawling up through the long breaches in the armor that the pyramid fighters had carved through the hull; he switched his viewpoint to one of them, intending to explore the interior of the fighter using the rover’s headlamps. But as soon as he peaked his head inside, he lost his signal feed.

  Multiple damage alerts flashed on his HUD, indicating fresh blast craters around the attachment sites. He switched to an external camera and realized that all of the pyramids had self-destructed. The damage for each one was contained to a blast crater three meters in diameter. Nothing crippling, but it would still have to be fixed: micrometeoroids could easily make those craters larger, causing problems with structural integrity.

  He activated his repair swarms; they would use the stock of processed materials he had mined from Metal Moon—that was what they were for, after all.

  “Space Machinists, sit rep,” Jain said.

  “Got all of my friends dealt with,” Mark said.

  Cranston and Medeia had successfully fended off their own boarding parties, and the micro machines with them. Medeia had also gotten rid of the last of the termites that were crawling along outside her hull and recalled her externally roaming rovers.

  Jain glanced at the tactical map. The alien ship was still fleeing. It was heading toward another moon; no doubt to restock on repair supplies. They hadn’t quite been expecting to deal with a gash like the one Medeia had carved.

  “What do you want to do with the remains of the alien termites we have aboard?” Cranston asked.

  “I’ll save a couple to show the navy scientists,” Jain said. “In the meantime, the rest of you jettison them out into space. I don’t want to risk these things somehow becoming active again.”

  “Will do,” Cranston said.

  “I’ll be storing mine suspended in an electromagnetic containment field, just to be safe,” Jain said.

  “Maybe one of us should take a look at them, see what we can learn,” Medeia said.

  “If you want to store one in an EM containment field like I’m doing, to study it, then go right ahead,” Jain said. He glanced at his tactical map. “Let’s see how Gavin is doing. Xander, take us to his ship. Meanwhile, start clearing out the alien termites, and put a couple in a containment field like I mentioned. Also, rewind the appropriate external camera to the moment before the Hippogriff went down. I want to see how the aliens took him out.”

  An instant later a video feed overlaid his vision. He watched as the Hippogriff came over the far horizon of the moon and attempted to intercept the fleeing ship. Unfortunately, the Hippogriff was within six thousand kilometers, which Jain guessed was the working range of the alien mothership’s secret weapon. Gavin had positioned his specialized drones in a triangular shape in front of his ship, and the drones had formed a force field between them to shield his vessel. He had also launched his shock wave weapon, whose energy sphere was currently expanding outward toward the approaching ship.

  The pyramid angled its tip toward the Hippogriff, and the entire alien structure glowed a bright red. From the tip erupted what could best be described as a red lightning bolt—no doubt caused by a plasma channel that had formed between the pyramid and the Hippogriff. The lightning passed right through the force field generated by the drones, though it seemed reduced to about half its intensity on the other side.

  When it struck the Hippogriff, red lightning arced violently across the surface of Gavin’s starship; the running lights along the hull went dark wherever the electricity passed, until soon no lights shone from the Hippogriff at all. The main lightning from the pyramid ceased, and the localized electrical bolts on the Hippogriff faded away, leaving the vessel drifting dead in space.

  Gavin’s three specialized drones, no longer receiving instructions, deactivated, and returned to the Hippogriff. They couldn’t dock, however: the ship’s bay doors remained closed, so they hovered protectively nearby.

  “Well, that’s another weapon they repaired,” Mark said. “At least we know what fried our AI cores the first time.”

  “Yeah, there’s no way his neural network survived that,” Cranston said. “We’re going to have to restore him from his backups.”

  “Assuming the backup survived this time,” Mark said.

  “It would be powered down at the time of impact,” Medeia said. “And disconnected from the main power supply. So there’s a good chance it did indeed survive. In fact, it would explain why our own backups were still accessible after that first battle. Assuming we were hit with the same weapon.”

  “It’s not over yet,” Jain interrupted her.

  On the video feed, the expanding shock wave from the Hippogriff finally struck the alien craft, and the vessel stuttered, seeming to shake in place; fragments broke away from the edges of the gash that Medeia had carved halfway through the pyramid. The vibration stopped as the shock wave continued by, and the alien ship proceeded without further impediment.

  “Now it’s over.” Jain deactivated the video, and he and the other Space Machinists reached the Hippogriff shortly.

  14

  Jain remotely activated the Hippogriff’s repair swarm and sent rovers to evaluate Gavin’s AI core and mind backup. Jain’s own swarms continued to mend the damage to his hull armor, as did the swarms aboard the other ships. Specialized robotic mechanics handled the repairs to the security drones that had fal
len during the alien boarding attempts. The current repair estimates ran at two to three days—including the time needed to fix the damage to the Hippogriff. The fleet would be at one hundred percent by the point. Well, except maybe Medeia: her sword attachment would continue to have small bites taken out, as it required alien materials that neither she nor anyone else carried.

  While the rest of them underwent repairs, Sheila returned from the far side of the moon and rejoined the fleet. She towed the shipyard with her, which was essentially a large skeletal metal framework; within, the rift ship was beginning to take shape. Only a small pie-shaped piece of the gate portion had been constructed. Transports flew to and fro from the moon’s surface to the shipyard, dropping off metals mined from the surface to the shipyard’s smelting facilities. Drones meanwhile swarmed back and forth between the smelters and the in-progress ship, dropping off refined ore for the onsite 3D printers.

  “Well, the backup is intact,” Jain said when he received the first report. “And it looks like his latest was made a few hours before the attack.”

  “That’s good,” Mark commented. “We won’t have to spend too long bringing him up to speed.”

  “How can you talk so coldly about a fellow member of our fleet?” Sheila said. Her avatar was on the bridge with the rest of them. “‘We won’t have to spend too long bringing him up to speed…’ you act like he’s some machine that you can just reboot, and then continue along as if nothing ever happened.”

  “Well, that’s because he is a machine that we can reboot…” Mark said.

  “He’s more than that,” Sheila said. “We all are. His existing mind was just destroyed. He’s dead. Restoring him from a backup into a new core won’t bring him back. His memories, personality, and experience will return, yes, but not him. He’ll be a copy. The version of him that was just piloting the Hippogriff is lost forever. Just like our original human selves, and the copies we had. Gone. If Gavin is dead, then we should show some respect to our fallen companion. Spare a moment of silence in honor of his service. At the very least.”

  “That’s reasonable,” Jain said. “But let me confirm that his AI core is damaged beyond repair, first. Remember, my core survived the first battle.”

  “But yours was the only one…” Sheila said. “So I don’t have high hopes.”

  Jain turned his attention to the second report from the rovers, which dealt with Gavin’s AI core. “Actually, things are looking up. We might not have to restore him from a backup after all. He’s still alive.”

  Sheila slumped in relief.

  “There’s still some damage, though,” Jain continued. “He’ll have holes in his memory, though not as bad as what happened to me.”

  Medeia nodded. “The force field produced by his Shield drones must have helped. You all saw how it halved the intensity of the plasma beam before it struck.”

  Jain had to wonder if Gavin had used his energy shield in a similar manner to protect the Talos in the first, forgotten fight; or perhaps Sheila had done it, with the force field her Wheelbarrow could produce.

  While waiting for Gavin to come online, he had the Space Machinists deliver some of the spare ice blocks they’d collected to the Wheelbarrow and Hippogriff so that the two ships could replenish their propellant levels. Sheila allocated a portion of the blocks given to her for the rift ship.

  Jain often glanced at his tactical map. The alien ship was continuing to put distance between itself and the fleet; it was on course for the same moon it had orbited before. The vessel was currently one hundred thousand kilometers away—their raptors were essentially useless at that range, given the rapid drop off in intensity after the fifty-thousand kilometer mark.

  “Looks like they intend to grab some more repair elements,” Mark commented.

  “I don’t blame them, given what Medeia did to them,” Sheila said.

  When the repair swarm finished repairing Gavin’s power couplers, Jain had the remote rovers reboot the Mind Refurb.

  Gavin joined the bridge connection, voice only at first. But then his avatar appeared.

  “I’ve had a time jump,” Gavin said. “I don’t think I’ve been restored from my backup, because my memory extends beyond that. But I don’t remember the battle.”

  “I’m sending some logs to refresh your mind,” Jain said.

  Gavin must have reviewed them in accelerated time, because he nodded a moment later. “You did well. Whereas I messed up big time.”

  Jain shrugged.

  “I was wrong about you,” Gavin said. “You’re a better leader than I am. I thought…” He shook his head. “I didn’t want to be left out, so I disobeyed your orders, and it nearly cost me my life. I expect you to discipline me.” He glanced at the other team members. “I let you all down.” He focused on Sheila. “Especially you. We were lucky the alien ship didn’t continue to your location on the far side of the moon. We could have lost you.”

  Sheila shook her head. “You think I’m that helpless? I would have given that ship the battle of a lifetime.” She looked down. “Okay, the truth: I would have probably retreated, and tried to get back to the rest of the fleet.”

  “Still, the worst could have happened,” Gavin said. “Because of my recklessness.” He gazed at Jain. “It won’t happen again. But I do expect you to discipline me.”

  Jain considered Gavin’s request. Amazing what nearly losing one’s life can do to their attitude.

  “All right, you’ll be responsible for hosting nightly VR sessions for the next two months,” Jain said. “That means coming up with a unique environment every time.”

  Gavin nodded. “Done.”

  “Also, I want you to turn up your pain sense, and enable full virtual body realism,” Jain said. “And give me a hundred push-ups.”

  Since he had been a former SEAL instructor, that seemed the most appropriate punishment.

  Gavin nodded hastily, and then began pumping out the push-ups.

  He barely reached a hundred.

  “Give me another hundred,” Jain said.

  Gavin gave him a tortured look, but obeyed. He didn’t make it beyond a hundred and twenty before he collapsed.

  “That’ll do,” Jain said.

  Gavin nodded gratefully and forced himself to his feet. From the way he moved, it was obvious that he kept his pain sense amped up, with full body realism still enabled. He was serious about punishing himself.

  Gavin made his way, stumbling, to an empty station, and sat down heavily. Jain thought he was going to log off the VR environment and disappear, but instead he remained visible. Gavin’s eyes defocused as he pulled up his virtual HUD to manage his ship.

  Jain felt a little surprised, since he hadn’t ordered him to stay on the virtual bridge—Gavin was doing it of his own free will. That pleased Jain, because it finally felt like they were a complete team.

  He continued to keep tabs on the alien ship via his tactical display: eventually the craft achieved orbit around the distant moon.

  “No doubt it’s already begun harvesting repair materials from the surface,” Sheila said.

  “Yes,” Jain told her.

  Sheila glanced up at him. “You think they’ll try again? To attack, I mean.”

  “I don’t know,” Jain said. “Probably. We have to be ready for anything.”

  “Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to tow the shipyard here,” Sheila said. “Maybe we should be heading to some planet further.”

  “It won’t matter,” Jain said. “They can easily outrun us. No, we stay here. And if they attack, we’ll send you to the far side, again. And this time Gavin won’t leave your side.”

  Mark tapped his chin. “I wonder... doing that might not be the best idea. They’ll have figured out by now we’re trying to protect that ship. They could purposely fly past us, and head to the far side to take her out.”

  “Well the alternative is just as bad...” Jain said. “Keeping the Wheelbarrow and the shipyard with us puts them at risk to their
weapons, and boarding parties. The shipyard has no protection from the latter at all. We’ll have to dispatch transports laden with security rovers to protect them.”

  Sheila shrugged. “Gavin and I can go to the far side. We place repeater drones on the poles of the moon. If the alien ship skirts you guys, you’ll send us the news right away, and we’ll increase speed, sling shooting around to the far side, rejoining you.”

  “That works,” Jain said.

  While the repair work continued, Jain sent transports to the moon to restore the metals that had been depleted to mend his armor. He also sent a transport to the Grunt, because Mark had generously offered to share some of his surplus demolition blocks. When the transport returned, Jain transported the demolitions blocks to his armories via lev trains: he wanted to be ready when the next boarding party came.

  “You know, we really need to upgrade the tracking software in our stingers,” Jain told Xander. “The railguns let too many of those alien boarding parties through.”

  Xander frowned. “There isn’t really much we can do.”

  “Then we have to fortify our internal defenses,” Jain insisted. “Maybe place defense platforms every few decks to slow down attackers.”

  “It won’t help against termites,” Xander said.

  “True.” Jain thrummed his armrest. He glanced at Sheila. “Maybe some upgrades to our security rovers are in order. It wasn’t very fun defending against intruders with crabs wielding laser cutters.”

  “Staving off a boarding party isn’t supposed to be fun,” Sheila said. “But I suppose I could divert some resources to print up better defense troops. I could give them miniature plasma and laser rifles.”

  “That would certainly work better than what we have now,” Jain said. “When can you have them ready?”

  “I could probably get you something in twenty-four hours,” Sheila said. “A few prototypes, anyway.”

  “Do it,” Jain said.