Cerberus

by John Filcher

  Cerberus

  “Captain, good call on trying to disable the Kursk,” Mueller noted as she and Ronin sat in the main conference room with LeCroy discussing the battle damage reports from the Bulldogs and their drones. “Our pilots and boarding parties want to have a go at the Kursk instead of waiting for her systems to completely fail or for them to initiate a self-destruct, even though the command crew had to have died when the bridge was erased by a hit. Kanagawa and the Brett’s still think it’s unlikely the ship’s conversion would have included significant anti-intruder measures, and the risk is acceptable. I’m inclined to agree. Thoughts?” Mueller asked.

  Ronin replied, “I agree.”

  They both looked at LeCroy, who wasted no time in responding to the question being asked merely by looking at him. “Me too. Let’s get in there and see what there is to see.”

  Ronin nodded slightly, then opened a commlink through his collar node to the CAG. “Sunderland, I’m ordering the Marine boarding parties to execute immediately. Get your Bulldogs in position to haul the mail.”

  Down in the pilot area, Sunderland acknowledged and opened another link to the Bulldogs. “Bulldogs 2, 3 and 5, prepare for boarding maneuver. Marine boarding teams are headed your way.”

  Meanwhile, Ronin had already opened another commlink and advised the Marine team leaders they were green lighted.

  “Captain, can I ask? The Brett’s?” Mueller quietly inquired after the orders were given. “What are, the Bretts?”

  Ronin gave a small laugh at her confusion. “The first names of both corporals in charge of Bravo and Gamma teams is Brett. Thus, the Brett’s.”

  Mueller and LeCroy both laughed. “I hadn’t heard of anyone calling them that yet. I like it though. Fitting,” Mueller replied.

  “Using the Bulldog’s jump drives to project the image of a Cerberus-class ship was pretty effective. Even OUR sensors were reporting the sudden appearance of our mirror image. Spooked the Collective’s vessels into an emergency course change that left them sitting ducks for a while,” LeCroy noted excitedly. He liked having new abilities to play with for his tactical planning.

  Kursk

  “Is not repairable, da?” asked the Kursk’s chief medical officer, Irina Stanislav, hoping her guess was completely wrong.

  “Da,” responded the very young third-class engineer who had been trying to repair the ship’s life support systems, Petor Gregor. He was the only living engineer left on the Kursk after the attack destroyed Engineering. The fact that his youth saved him was not lost on Gregor. Because as the newest engineer, he had been sent away from the now missing Engineering section to try to fix a glitchy food replicator and was still working on it when the sudden attack from nowhere left the Kursk a dying husk of a ship.

  Since the attack, Gregor had been in a desperate race against time to fix the ruined air system, and had enlisted Stanislav in the effort due to her medical expertise to help figure out the parameters of acceptable air quality. The two of them were greasy and sweaty from the fruitless effort. “Is, what? About two hours of breathable air remaining,” Gregor noted.

  Stanislav nodded slowly, not having the heart to tell Petor that the air was already pretty fouled due to the smoke from the fires inside the ship, so their time was even shorter. They both knew everyone aboard would die unless their poltergeist-like attackers chose to reappear and rescue them. No sense in belaboring the obvious.

  Stanislav pushed aside a limp blonde strand of hair from her face. “I guess this is the end, then.” Gregor simply nodded, too tired to do anything else. He had noticed the air quality was rapidly deteriorating as they rested from their efforts.

  “Cannot seem to catch my breath,” he noted as his eyes closed. He was so sleepy and tired. Why not just stay here next to such a beautiful doctor? As he thought this, he glanced over to where Stanislav had already passed out. Not long now, he thought before he, too, succumbed to sleep.

  Minutes later, Bulldog 5 jumped into the space near the Kursk. “Jump one seven, complete,” announced pilot Gary Chanson, from Idaho.

  “Space is clear, insertion point is identified on your plot,” said the rear-seater Akira Nakamura, from Okinawa. “Gamma 1, two minutes until we make contact with the insertion point on the Kursk hull,” Nakamura added over the commlink.

  “Roger that,” responded Blackwater in his thick Welsh accent, before switching over to his team’s commlink channel. “All right, lads, time to earn your pay. Two minutes!”

  The line was silent for a moment, before Gamma 3 made a remark in their native French to Gamma 4 about boarding an active enemy vessel was perhaps not the healthiest of plans.

  “Stow that froggie croaking,” Blackwater ordered to the great surprise of Pvt. Louis Caron and Pvt. Victor Berger. Neither of them had yet figured out Gamma 1 was fluent in French. They grinned as they looked at each other. Who knew?

  “Gamma 1, YOU speak French? What was her name, anyway?” asked Gamma 4 (Victor Berger) in a teasing tone, causing a chorus of similar responses and catcalls from the rest of the team.

  “I really hate you guys and hope you die horribly!” responded Blackwater in an exasperated sounding tone. His only response was another round of whoops and wolf whistles from the team. They would make sure to drag this story out of their 1 whether he wanted to tell it or not.

  Bulldog 5 quickly settled on the insertion point their AI had indicated was likely unguarded. “Gamma 5, do your thing,” ordered Blackwater. Private Addington quickly began using his various tools to cut through the thin hull of the cargo vessel. Much easier to breach than the armored hull of a warship.

  Within minutes, Addington called out, “Gamma 1, we have entry.”

  Blackwater wasted no time. “Gamma 4, get your bugs in there and tell us what the story is.” Victor was already waiting. He launched a Butterfly drone.

  “Empty, Gamma 1. Air’s fouled,” said Berger in his French accent.

  “All right. Keep your suits buttoned up. Let’s go,” said Blackwater as he jumped down into the dark hole. As the team entered the insertion point, Gamma 6 buttoned up the entry behind them to keep the ship’s atmosphere from spilling out if the Bulldog had to depart suddenly.

  Bulldog 2

  “Jump two zero, complete.” announced Meyer.

  “Scans are clear, insertion point on your plot now,” Schmidt confirmed after a few moments. “Echo 1, sixty seconds to insertion point,” Schmidt added over the commlink.

  “Sixty seconds, make ready!” Kanagawa informed Echo team over the team’s commlink. “Contact, Echo team, go!” Meyer announced as he landed the Bulldog.

  “Meyer, Bulldog 5 has sent their boarding party into the Kursk,” Schmidt noted as she kept an eye on the Tacnet plot. “No resistance, and the air is fouled.”

  Kanagawa was also listening in on the command channel and heard Sophie’s report. He passed the information to the rest of Echo team. “Stay buttoned up,” Kanagawa ordered his men.

  “There’s an airlock!” Meyer announced excitedly. “I’ll drop the party there.” Kanagawa responded quickly. “Excellent work, Meyer. We should be able to gain entry much faster while the ship still has some power to operate the airlocks and hatches.”

  Minutes later, Echo 5 had the airlock cycling so the team could enter the Kursk. As it opened, he gestured in to Kanagawa. “Age before beauty, Echo 1.”

  Kanagawa couldn’t resist throwing out a quip in response. “Then you’ll never enter, Echo 5!” That retort brought a chorus of hoots and jokes from the team.

  “OUCH!” and “Burn!” and the like. The team entered the ship and cycled the airlock before Danfries could get roasted any further.

  Kursk

  The Marine boarders quickly made their way into the ship.

  “Gamma 4, there’s a net node. Hook in and give a sitrep.” ordered Blackwater when he saw the
connection port.

  Berger was only too happy to follow through. He quickly stepped up to the ship wide network node and used his bag of toys to rig up a connection. His AI took no time at all to assert itself.

  “I’ve gained entry into the ship’s neural network,” said the AI over the circuit to Blackwater and Berger.

  “The Kursk’s system security was minimal. Last system upgrade was over twenty year’s ago,” noted the AI. Berger and Blackwater glanced at one another, each thinking the AI sounded a bit smug about that.

  Kanagawa looked around as he listened to the AI’s progress report. “This ship is old, and doesn’t look like it was kept in top of the line status even before we made a mess of it,” he replied.

  “I have control over the ship’s command systems,” the AI suddenly stated. “There isn’t much left to control. Bridge, auxiliary bridge and engineering are destroyed, along with most of the crews for those sections. Atmosphere quality has stabilized, but that’s mostly because it’s bad enough not to be able to support more fire. Please stay inside your exosuits.” added the AI.

  “AI, where are the defensive systems in the Kursk?” asked Berger. Safety first, he thought.

  “All Kursk defensive systems are offline, and no Collective environmental suits were activated due to the suddenness of our attack,” responded the AI.

  That startled Kanagawa. “You mean there isn’t any armed resistance?” he asked.

  “That is correct, Corporal.”

  Kanagawa and Berger looked at each other. “I guess we have a look around and figure out what the story behind the Kursk is then,” Kanagawa remarked.

  The AI unexpectedly responded, because neither Kanagawa nor Berger had closed the line to it. “The ship’s orders were in the main computer and I have accessed them. Kursk was transporting refugees from the families of high-ranking party officials within the Collective. Most of the refugees come from the Collective’s main population centers, which are located in both Southeast Asia and near Europe.”

  “How many refugees are we talking here?” asked Berger.

  “Three thousand, one hundred three boarded the Kursk. Two thousand, two hundred eight remain, although their health is deteriorating rapidly due to onboard conditions.”

  Berger and Kanagawa looked at each other, stunned. “I thought it was transporting weapons, or supplies or something!” said Berger.

  Kanagawa nodded, visible even in his exosuit. “We need to contact Cerberus ASAP, or there won’t be anybody left to rescue soon.”

  Cerberus

  “That’s right, Captain, 2,208 survivors for the moment. All Marine boarding teams have spread throughout the Kursk and confirmed there is no resistance, nor is there anyone still conscious due to the poor atmosphere conditions,” Kanagawa said through the commlink. “AI has taken control of the ship’s systems that still function. They’re political families from the highest levels of the Collective.”

  “Provide what assistance you can to keep them alive until our medical and transport teams arrive. Transfer them to Cerberus as soon as conditions permit,” Ronin ordered. He looked at Mueller with raised eyebrows that matched her own expression.

  “Lieutenant LeCroy, follow me and Commander Mueller please.” He activated a commlink from his collar node. “Lieutenant Commander Elvis Lazarus, meet me in the main conference room right away, please.” he said over the commlink as he stood and walked towards the exit to the bridge on his way to the main conference room.

  Minutes later, the foursome was deep in discussions. “Yes, Captain. We can keep everyone alive long enough for us to drop them off somewhere. Provided we don’t take too long in transit, and feed everyone aboard half rations to stretch the onboard food stocks. It won’t smell too fresh in here with that many bodies,” Lazarus reported after running some numbers.

  “Thank you, Lazarus. Go make your preparations, and we’ll get underway as soon as is practicable.” Mueller said.

  Lazarus nearly ran from the conference room. He would be very busy for the next few hours.

  Mueller sat back in her seat, and she and Ronin just looked at one another for a moment.

  “Well. Here we are. Refugees of the political class. Do we need any clearer signs that the Collective is rapidly collapsing? I read classified reports this morning about armed revolts springing up in their cities, and now they’re leaving while they still can,” Ronin concluded.

  LeCroy nodded, thinking. “Aye, Captain. The end is coming. Hopefully they don’t try to take down the West like what they did to start The Fall. What do we do with the refugees?” he asked.

  “Refugees? Might be that the Admiralty prefers to make them pawns in their political machinations instead. I don’t know. What I do know, however, is that we save as many as we can, and get the heck out of Dodge while we can and make contact with the fleet for further instructions. This was anticipated to be a hit-and-run raid, not a rescue mission. If it were supposed to be a rescue mission, Cerberus would’ve been kitted out much differently, especially in terms of food and medical supplies.”

  The look on Mueller’s face showed her agreement. “Yes. As we are now, we won’t be able to sustain that many people for long at all. The clock is running as soon as they’re aboard,” she noted.

  Ronin reached his decision. “LeCroy, work with the Marines to keep Cerberus secure from these refugees. I don’t want any harm coming to our ship or to them from their presence.”

  LeCroy nodded without further reply.

  “Mueller, take command of Cerberus while they’re brought aboard. In the interim, I’m going to conference with the Admiralty and figure out where to take them. I’ll join you on the bridge as soon as I’ve got something.”

  While Mueller and LeCroy left to return to the bridge, Ronin slipped into his ready room. Ronin composed his thoughts while he made a cup of coffee, and then sat at his desk to open a commlink to Admiral Rodding.

  He answered it seconds after the link was secure. “Rodding, go ahead.” At this distance, the delay was about two minutes, but Dan needed options now so he just had to endure the lag time.

  “Admiral, this is Captain Ronin. We have a bit of a situation here.”

  “What’s the situation, Captain?” Rodding’s face showed both surprise and interest at Ronin’s blunt announcement. He was also concerned at the unusual communication from Ronin while Cerberus was still away on a raid.

  “Admiral, we’ve found the secret cargo of the Kursk was actually 2,208 survivors from the ruling families of the Collective’s government. There were more, but not everyone survived the disabling attacks on the ship prior to the arrival of our boarding parties. I took the liberty of assuming you would want Cerberus to deliver them somewhere instead of leaving them here as the ship was dying rapidly.”

  Rodding’s eyebrows rose sharply. “Survivors! From the ruling families? That totally doesn’t fit the mission our AI profiled for the detachment. We were expecting weapons and the like.” Rodding slowly stroked his chin while he thought for a moment. “Dan, how long can you host all those extra bodies?”

  “Four days, no more,” Ronin responded crisply. “We can stretch the food supplies and recycle all the water, but breathable air is the primary limiting factor. Our life support systems were never designed for that kind of capacity and can’t recycle enough air in sufficient quantities.”

  Rodding pressed a button and shared his screen with Ronin so they could both see a map. “Four days,” he muttered. “Ronin, what do you know of Oasis?”

  Ronin shook his head. “Nothing, sir. First I’ve heard the name.”

  A spot on the shared map screen began blinking in response to a command from Rodding. “Oasis is a small base on Triton, in retrograde orbit around Neptune. We can send Cygnus there with adequate food supplies and a large detachment of Marine guards. There is sufficient water for hydrogen, and
nitrogen, to help generate the necessarily atmosphere for life support. It’ll be a bit tight from an elbow room perspective, but it’s a good spot for temporary lodging purposes.”

  Ronin thought about it for a moment. “We can get our guests squared away aboard Cerberus, then jump them out to Oasis after Cygnus has arrived there. Where do you want Cerberus after that, Admiral?”

  “Leave one of your Bulldogs to search for intel in the remains at The Cloud before you leave for Triton. After you depart Triton, jump to Wayside Station. Fleet intelligence is itching to review the computer records you’ve recovered. There’s a lot going on back Earth side, and the situation is dangerously volatile. The intel weenies are nearly certain a high value escape mission like you found is bound to have inside information about the Collective and its security apparatus.”

  The shared screen vanished and was replaced by Rodding’s face. “Keep us apprised of your situation, Dan. Things are happening quickly now. Expect something to come up with no notice.”

  After Ronin signed off, he returned to his quarters for a bit. Edward was in the kitchenette making a sandwich. “Dad! I’m making a bite to eat for a quick dinner. Sarah is on her way here too. All the kids were ordered back to quarters for some reason. Want a sandwich?”

  Ronin smiled and gave him a hug. “I would love one! Just famished here.” As they sat down to eat their meal, Ronin decided Edward needed a cautionary word from him. “We’ve picked up a large number of refugees from the Collective, which is why all the civilians have been returned to their quarters unless they’re needed elsewhere. It’s a dangerous situation, so I need you to promise to stay here with Sarah until we deliver them to safety. They could be violent, some are hurt, and there’s no telling how unpredictable they’ll be, which is why you need to stay away. They find out you’re my son, and one of the desperate or militant refugees might try to take you hostage or kill you. Understand?”

  Edward was no dummy, and understood immediately. “Yes, Papa. I’ll stay put right here until we can offload them somewhere else.”