by Paul Rix
"You see, major?" shouted Trask. "All the more reason to take my orders seriously. You're in no position to effectively protect me while the enemy has access to the controls of this ship."
"Sir, I appreciate your perspective, but I will not send my men and women needlessly to their deaths."
"Major, if you continue to disobey me I will have no option but to replace you."
Garrett flexed his muscles and freed himself from the grip of the two soldiers. Before anyone could react, he stepped between Trask and Thompson. "Grand President, the major is a fine leader. He's simply protecting his men as well as ensuring he is best placed to protect you. I was a Marine in a former life. Allow me to discover who we're up against. Then the major can formulate a plan of attack."
Trask looked shrewdly at him as four guards moved in to prevent Garrett from getting any closer to the grand president. "Nice try. You want to return to your colleagues now that you have all the information you need about me. I've encountered hundreds of people who have tried to deceive me. You're no different."
"You're wrong about me. And if you continue to treat me with contempt, you'll be condemning everyone in this room to death."
Maxwell moved forward next to Garrett. "Sir, I implore you to give Oz a chance to get my crew back. I trust him and don't believe he will betray us."
Trask continued to sneer. "Major, do you have an opinion?"
Thompson glanced grimly at Garrett. "Okay, Marine. What's your plan?"
Chapter 26
O'Brien was stunned at the sight of Takahashi being dragged into the command room. He'd heard gunfire coming from the central core but had assumed only Trask's guards had fired. Her face was contorted in agony and she was breathing rapidly as she clasped her left shoulder.
"What have they done to her?" he demanded of Delta as he rushed across to assess Takahashi's wounds.
"Two armed individuals shot at my soldiers. Interestingly, they approached from the rear. Tell me who they are and why you lied to me."
O'Brien ignored Delta, instead, brushing his fingers through Takahashi's hair and whispering, "It's okay, Saki. It's Luke. I'll take care of you."
He couldn't tell if she was aware of him. Her eyes remained tightly closed and her expression didn't change. He tried to move her hand away from her shoulder but she was having none of it. He tried again, this time slowly prising her fingers away.
"I want to know who shot at my squad," Delta insisted, raising her voice to make her point. "They think it was a man and a woman. Was it Garrett and your captain?"
"How would I know?" O'Brien snapped. "I didn't have time to see either of them. I assume your thugs killed them."
Delta's eyes narrowed. "Who else is down at that end of Britannic?"
"There is no one else. Can you let me see to Sakura before she dies as well?"
Commander Stone returned through the hatch. "I heard shooting. Is anyone hurt?"
One of the soldiers gave Stone a wry smile, as if being shot was a badge of honor to be worn with pride. "They fired ancient projectile weapons. The kinetic power was enough to send me along the corridor, but the shielding absorbed the full force."
"Where did they find the weapons? I recall no armaments were allowed on Project Exodus ships other than small hunting weapons." Delta kicked O'Brien in the side with her toe. "What aren't you telling me?"
"I've told you all I know," O'Brien insisted, rubbing his side from the stinging blow and avoiding eye contact.
"If you want to tend to your patient, I need you to be honest with me. Or you can watch her die. I don't have time for any more of your games."
O'Brien knew Delta wasn't bluffing. He'd seen enough to know she'd have no qualms about allowing Takahashi to die a slow, painful death. "One of the chambers activated when we opened it," he said in a low voice. "The colonists had begun the revival process when I left to come here."
"That's better," said Delta, with a smile that a snake would be proud of. "Did you see many weapons? Did the chamber contain military personnel?"
"Of course not," O'Brien replied. He knew that knowledge of Trask's presence could only complicate matters. "All PEAs are civilian vessels. We are peacefully looking for a new home."
O'Brien felt Delta and Stone staring at him, ripping his flimsy lies apart. They had already caught him out once. He had never been a good liar, but the stakes were incredibly high. The lives of all the colonists on Britannic depended upon his holding up in the face of intense pressure.
"Do you think he's telling the truth, commander?"
"No, of course not. I'm told the two individuals we shot were wearing armor. Definitely not civilians."
By now, Takahashi had stopped trembling but continued to groan softly in pain. The emergency shot of morphine he had given her appeared to be having some effect. He wished he knew what she had experienced in order to target the pain.
"Interesting," Delta said, almost to herself. "I was hoping the good doctor here would have cared sufficiently for his patient to not risk her life. What could be so important that he would let her die?"
"I've been telling you the truth."
"You've been taking me for a fool. I've been around enough men to know when they're lying to me." She pulled a menacing handgun from her underarm holster, pointing it directly at Takahashi's head. "You have ten seconds."
O'Brien's shoulders slumped as he looked into her eyes, knowing instinctively she was not bluffing. "Look, I'm not sure who your soldiers shot and killed. It may well have been Garrett for all I know. We discovered something unexpected in chamber five. Grand President Trask secretly arranged to be placed on board Britannic, along with his consort and elite guard. The chamber was full of them, but we had revived none when I left there."
Delta laughed at the account, surprising O'Brien. "You're telling me that Trask, the grand architect of Project Exodus, the self-proclaimed savior of mankind, is a stowaway on this ship? That is just perfect."
"I don't know if he's alive," O'Brien continued, confused by Delta's reaction.
"I'm not sure if I care. Although he would make a fabulous house guest for the president. Can you imagine? All the stories he'll be able to share. The last days of Earth and his vicelike grip on power. Maybe there's more to this ancient ship than just the data files. It's a ghost ship."
"So, can I now see to my friend?"
"The commander has everything you need. Stone, please use the neural repressor on this woman. I think it's time our guests finally made themselves useful."
Chapter 27
"There has to be another way off this ship," Garrett whispered to Maxwell. He'd been thinking about the matter for a while. Britannic was vast. Almost four kilometers from stem to stern. It made little sense for the only exits to comprise one airlock and the hangar, despite what the computer schematics had shown him. When the ship was being constructed, there would have been a vast army of human and robotic construction workers. They would have needed the ability to access the ship at various points along its length.
It wasn't just a practical matter. They had to have addressed safety considerations in the ship's plans. While the central core was a fundamental backbone of the ark ships, there had to be secondary egress points in the event of an emergency. Surely.
"There is an inspection port next to engineering," she replied after taking a moment to remember the plans of the ship. "We can only access it from the interior. Sakura would have been able to tell you more." Maxwell fell silent at the mention of Takahashi.
"I hope you're not planning an escape," Thompson said, moving in close.
"On the contrary, major. I'm planning a recon mission. I don't enjoy the feeling of being cornered any more than you. And I feel to blame for the situation we find ourselves in. Moving along the central core is clearly not an option. If I can get outside Britannic and travel along the hull, I can discover who we're up against and determine a plan of action."
"Why should I let you do that?" demanded Trask, who
was watching the conversation with a deep melancholy.
"Because it's better than waiting here to die!"
"I have no intention of dying today."
"Neither do I. You wanted a plan, and this is it. I performed recon missions when I was much younger. I may not be as fit as I was, but I'm still in better shape than anyone else in this chamber and certainly the most capable given the conditions. No offense, but I doubt any of you have experience of zero-g combat. Someone needs to take action before it's too late."
"How do I know you're not simply taking care of yourself?" said Trask. "You may try to escape before those people overrun us."
"With respect, not everyone is like you, sir. I was a Space Marine for fifteen years and never left anyone behind. I believe you had Marines in your day too, and they were a highly respected part of your military."
"Yes they are," Thompson said before Trask responded. "I believe you're sincere. However, I don't think you should conduct the mission on your own. I want you to be accompanied by ten of my finest guards. For your protection and support."
Garrett smiled to himself, knowing full well that Thompson didn't trust him enough for a solo mission. It was a good call. Garrett knew he would do exactly the same if the roles were reversed.
"They will slow me down and potentially jeopardize our chances."
"The condition is non-negotiable. I know you'll make the best use of their help if you're genuine about defeating whoever is in the control room."
"Thank you," Garrett replied, knowing this wasn't a battle worth fighting.
Thompson deferred to Trask. "Is that acceptable to you, sir?"
"What are your intentions if you make it outside the ship?"
"We traverse across the outer hull toward the airlock. That's where I imagine their ship to be. My ship is close by and contains effective weapons plus other equipment that will help us. If we're lucky, we may be able to disable their craft and possibly enter through the airlock. Once we can gain some ground, we'll have far more flexibility."
Trask looked up at Thompson. "Major, I'm letting you decide this one. I have grave misgivings about allowing Mr. Garrett out of my sight. Yet I am loath to remain trapped in this godforsaken chamber any longer than necessary."
***
Twenty minutes later, Garrett, Maxwell, Thompson, and twelve guards found their way to the engineering level. This was where they encountered their first problem.
"What do you mean there are only six spacesuits?" Thompson asked.
Maxwell, who had been the one to locate and open the hatch, held her ground against the angry major. "I told you, they did not intend this port as a regular airlock. To be honest, I'm surprised there are this many."
The situation only got worse when one spacesuit was found to be faulty and unable to maintain atmospheric integrity.
"We can manage with a smaller number," Garrett said, trying to soothe the major's frustrations. "In fact, there's a lower risk of being detected."
"And fewer guards to take the airlock. I don't like it," Thompson replied.
Garrett had some sympathy with the major's concerns. There was no knowing how many of the enemy they were facing. Taking only four guards with him was likely to be totally inadequate. But that was sometimes the hand that you were dealt. Unfortunately, the four guards Thompson had given him didn't fill him with confidence. They looked tired and unsure. What a wake-up call he had in store for them.
"I'll need a weapon," he said.
Thompson hesitated as he thought it through, before ordering one of the guards to pass across a rifle and spare ammunition clips. "I assume you know how to fire one of these."
Garrett quickly inspected the gun and then nodded. He'd seen similar weapons in museums and understood how they operated, even if he'd never fired one before.
"Have your guards had any experience of fighting in space?"
"You were correct earlier," Thompson replied, shaking his head. "It's something I never anticipated and there was never really the opportunity. They've all had spacewalk training though, as well as actual hand-to-hand combat in real-life scenarios. They won't let you down."
Garrett faced the four nervous-looking guards. "There's only one thing to remember when firing these weapons, and that is Newton's third law. Do you all know what that is?"
They rewarded him with four nodding heads, some more confident than others. He pointed to the least confident. "What is it, soldier?"
The guard visibly shrank in his suit at being put on the spot. "Every action has an opposite reaction?"
"Close enough for our purposes. Each of these weapons has a recoil. This is because the force required to accelerate something causes an equal but opposite reactional force. In normal gravity, the mass of your body is enough to keep you in position. That is not the same when there's no gravity. Even though the projectiles are small, the force to use them is similar to the effect of a thruster. Unless you've secured yourself before you fire, you're going to end up floating away in the opposite direction."
"Won't that be the same for the enemy?"
"Unfortunately not. While you've been sleeping, weapons technology has advanced. They fit projectile weapons with inertia suppressors to prevent what I just explained. And, in any case, those guys have photonic resonance blasters which work entirely differently to your projectile weapons."
The four guards looked toward one another and then at Major Thompson.
"Just do as Garrett says and you'll be fine," Thompson said. "The plan is to not get involved in a battle. Recon only. Use your weapon only if you absolutely have to and only after you've secured yourself. I'm sure Garrett knows what he's doing."
As the guards checked their suit seals one last time, Garrett grabbed a moment with Maxwell.
"You do know what you're doing?" she asked, genuine concern in her eyes.
"What I've always done. Looking for an opportunity to exploit. We need intel and this is the only way. I do have one favor to ask. Can you open the hangar bay doors?"
"There may be supplemental controls in engineering," she replied, pointing to the other side of the corridor. "Why?"
Garrett smiled. "I like to keep my options open."
Chapter 28
Delta watched with some satisfaction as the soldiers forced her two prisoners to lean into the retinal scanner, the resistance they had shown now finally crushed, allowing her to complete the first part of her mission. As soon as the second scan was complete, the command console and most of the equipment racks sprang into life. Monitors flickered on and lights flashed around the command center.
Commander Stone keyed some buttons at the captain's workstation before looking at the screen in front of him. "We now have full access to the ship's data libraries. None of them appear to be corrupted, so I'm beginning the file download."
"How long?" Delta didn't want to stay any longer than necessary. And she still had to work out what to do with Trask. The obvious choice was simply to let him die when she destroyed the ship. Yet he would make a wonderful prize for her mother.
Stone looked at the data retrieval cube. "Thirty-five minutes. Britannic's data files are full."
"And you're going to tell me the data interface is slow."
Stone nodded. "You have to make allowances for what we're working with. There is no quantum technology being used here." He glanced across at O'Brien and Takahashi, who were curled up in a corner. "What should I do with them?"
The two prisoners were the least of Delta's concerns now that they had allowed her access to the ship's data library. They looked at her in desperation, like dogs begging for food. Pathetic. "I've not decided yet. They're not causing any problems at the moment."
Pascale interrupted her conversation. "I'm sorry, Your Grace. I've received a notification that your brother wants to speak with you."
Delta tutted. "He's probably fretting about why we're taking so long."
***
In reality, Delta was grateful for an excu
se to return to Scorpion. Britannic was musty and unwelcoming, and the cramped command center was claustrophobic. She was also glad to feel the pull of artificial gravity and know which was up and down. Such simple things, but suddenly very important after several hours of weightlessness.
Returning to her private quarters, she recited her access code and waited two seconds for the encrypted channel to connect. Almost instantly, Frederick's concerned face appeared on the view screen next to her bunk. "Hello, brother," she said with a smile. "This is an unexpected pleasure."
"You know how Mother is. She worries about you."
Not as much as you do, Delta thought. "What is there to worry about with an ancient relic? I have my security detail."
"I was expecting an update sooner. Have you had problems accessing Britannic?"
Delta knew for a fact that she had not shared the name of the ark with anyone other than her own crew. Her clumsy brother had let slip that her actions were being monitored. She quashed her immediate feeling of anger. There was no way any of her security team would betray her. What was important was to discover whether it was Frederick or their mother who had ordered the surveillance. Either had the means and the lack of trust to spy on her.
"Gaining entry was straightforward. We had issues accessing the primary data file, but that matter is resolved. There have been a few unexpected events along the way."
"I suppose we shouldn't be surprised with such an ancient vessel."
"There's more than just the data files, Frederick. This ship is remarkably intact. Virtually all the systems are operational, despite their age."
Frederick looked confused. "What does that mean?"
Delta wasn't sure how much to share. She had not yet decided what to do with the contents. But, then again, her brother had always been a reliable sounding board. "There have been no hull breaches and life support is fully functioning."
"And?"
Delta took a deep breath. "Most of the colonists are in cryo-stasis and showing signs of life."
