by Paul Rix
What would I do in her position?
He didn't know Scorpion's capabilities and there was nothing in Raptor's data files. The ship was classified. Given its provenance, however, it was safe to assume Scorpion was fully equipped with state-of-the-art weaponry and defensive countermeasures. Garrett assumed that would mean ultra-power particle cannons and deuterium torpedoes. More than a match for Raptor and possibly sufficient to breach Britannic's thick and super-tough hull.
But he doubted that was Delta’s plan. She had intended for Britannic to violently implode, which meant she wanted no evidence to remain. If that was still the case, her best option now was to wait for reinforcements to complete the task. Extra shiploads of soldiers would quickly overrun Thompson's guards.
Garrett was aware that he had been lucky so far. He had caught Delta's troops by surprise. They hadn't expected to come across him or Thompson and his soldiers and had miscalculated what he was capable of.
Reinforcements could be on their way. The question was, how long until they arrived? Certainly long before he could find additional forces of his own to protect Britannic.
"Accept it," he said, intrigued by what Delta may have to say.
Delta's holographic head appeared in front of him, hovering above the console. He had the immediate impression she looked less assured than she had at the previous encounter.
"Mr. Garrett, I saw you returned to your ship. Are you leaving?"
"I think that's what you'd like me to do."
"This isn't your battle. I'm a reasonable person and prepared to allow you to leave in peace. I'll put it down to a simple misunderstanding. You can go back to your normal life as if this unfortunate incident never happened. I promise I will take no further action against you."
"I'm ready to stand in front of judges and justify all of my actions to date. Can you say the same?"
"I don't need to justify anything."
"Why do I get the impression you don't want the public to be aware of what is happening here? Why the need for secrecy?"
"Okay, Mr. Garrett. I appreciate you may have a trust issue. I promise you, I will smooth things over with President D’Angelo on your behalf. You know I have the authority to issue a pardon for you in response to your ill-judged prevention of my lawful mission. All you need to know is, it is imperative I complete what the president sent me here to do."
"You've still not explained why."
"I don't need to. You're just a former Marine. I wouldn't expect you to understand the politics involved around the discovery of an Exodus Ark."
"You're right. I don't understand why you want to wipe out a ship of immense historical value that is carrying one thousand people. How can you condone genocide?"
"Mr. Garrett, you have witnessed innocent people die during your time as a Marine. These things happen in times of war."
"We're not at war with our past."
"Mr. Garrett, please step aside. I could easily destroy your ship if I wanted to. Instead, why don't you accept a reward for your loyalty to the Federation if that helps? Name your price. What do you need to retire on a distant world?"
"I'm not for sale."
"I can make you a seriously rich man with credits you can't even dream of."
"You really don't know me. I like to be able to sleep at night with a clear conscience."
"You can't sleep when you're dead. Why waste your life on a hopeless cause?"
"I'm not afraid to welcome death. Can you say the same?"
"Your death will only delay the inevitable. Not prevent it. It seems like such a waste when you clearly have talents to offer."
"We'll see. Is there anything else you wanted to say to me?"
Before Delta could respond, Raptor's computer cut into the conversation.
Garrett's eyes opened wide in surprise. "End all comms links between us and Scorpion immediately."
"Was any part of that message transmitted to its ultimate destination?"
"I don't suppose you'll be able to access any of the message?"
Garrett stood up to test his injured leg. The pain was much less than it had been. "Why would Delta need to use you as a relay station?"
Garrett slumped back down in his chair to dwell on the recent conversation. Delta had been overly keen, almost desperate to remove him from the field of play. That made little sense if she possessed overwhelming forces.
"Are you able to send any transmissions?"
"Would that also prevent Scorpion from sending its own transmissions to other parts of the Stellar Cluster?"
This was a mystery he would have to solve another time. For now, he faced someone who was obsessed with destroying the ark. It was his job to find her before it was too late.
"Open a channel with Captain Maxwell. Use Britannic's radio frequencies."
It was only a matter of seconds before she responded. "Oz? What's happening out there?"
"Delta is still around somewhere, but her ship is using a device that renders it undetectable."
"That's possible?"
"Only for the most advanced spaceships."
"Are we still in danger?"
"I've just spoken with Delta. She will not leave you alone until she's got what she wants."
"Is there anything you can do?"
"Not until she reveals herself. The good news is that I don't think she has any other forces within several days of here. And she's desperate to destroy you as quickly as she can. As soon as she fires on Britannic, I'll be able to triangulate her position."
"That doesn't fill me with enthusiasm, Oz."
"I understand. Even when I find her, I'm not sure how I can incapacitate her ship. All I can suggest is you keep everyone in one chamber or the control deck and keep the hatches sealed. Britannic's hull is strong enough to withstand a bombardment for a while, but if there is a breach then the atmosphere in the central core will quickly escape."
O'Brien must have been listening to the conversation. "It sounds like you're asking us to wait for a slow lingering death," he said. It wasn't difficult to sense the anger and fear in his voice.
"I'm trying to give you hope. There's not much you can do to make Britannic a tougher target to hit, but I can make it very difficult for Delta to get many clean shots away. I'll do all I can to either disable her ship or at the very least keep her at bay until the good guys arrive."
"We believe in you," said Captain Maxwell. "Kick her butt if you can. We'll do all we can to secure ourselves. Keep in touch. And good luck."
"Thanks, Lacey. Good luck to you too."
Alone with his thoughts, Garrett didn't want to consider what the chances of success were. Raptor had been equipped with four pairs of high-powered xenon lasers, but they had enough power only to destroy small rocks and other space debris that could otherwise damage the ship's hull. He doubted they would even put a scratch on Scorpion's hull. How was he supposed to protect a behemoth the size of Britannic from the superior weaponry Delta had at her disposal?
"Take us five hundred meters from Britannic, maintaining a spiral orbit. Use all sensors to spot any unusual activity within a fifty-thousand-kilometer radius."
As Raptor moved slowly away from Britannic, Garre
tt felt energized. Could he outsmart Delta and save a piece of history?
Chapter 48
Delta returned to the bridge just in time to see Garrett's craft take off from Britannic's hull. For a moment, the craft appeared to be heading directly for them and Delta briefly wondered if Scorpion had been detected. But then Garret's ship pitched to the left as it began a trajectory that would encircle the ark.
The corporal was still at her station and glanced nervously in her direction. "Your Grace. What are your orders? Are reinforcements on their way?"
Delta's mind was still imagining what she would do to her treacherous brother once she returned to Constance II. He deserved a slow, agonizing death for his betrayal. She was not sure if her mother would agree to take such action but Delta was prepared to wait until her mother had died, if necessary, before exacting revenge. In the meantime, Frederick would spend his time incarcerated in some forgotten corner of the presidential palace, to be her plaything.
"Your Grace," Rankin repeated. "What action do you want to take?"
She looked back at the cartwheeling image of Britannic on the main screen. The ancient vessel seemed to be goading her; an enormous reminder that she had so far failed in her primary mission. She couldn't determine how the mission had gone bad so quickly when everything had been under control.
The long narrow ark looked like a wagging finger, chastising her. It wasn't going to easily surrender to her. It was trying to destroy her destiny as much as she was trying to eradicate it. And the damn machine was winning, at the same time allowing Frederick the opportunity to reveal his duplicitous secret.
"Your Grace. Are you feeling okay?"
Finally registering that someone was speaking to her, Delta briefly turned her attention to the corporal who visibly withered under her intense stare. "Have you located any weak spots that we can target?"
"I was waiting for your instructions."
"Of course you were, soldier," she replied, irritated at her lack of ingenuity. How did she ever get so far as corporal? "Please tell me you're proficient with Scorpion's neural interface."
What remaining color there was drained from Rankin's face. "I'm sorry, Your Grace. Commander Stone and Pascale were the only ones trained on the interface. The rest of us were due to be trained in ten days’ time."
"You're telling me we cannot fully utilize the vast computing power of this ship."
"No one anticipated both our experts would be killed in action."
Delta stared incredulously at the corporal. The day was turning into a complete disaster. If it wasn't for the fact she was her last remaining trooper, she would have shot Rankin where she sat.
"You'll have to do it the old-fashioned way. Scan Britannic for any possible cracks in the hull. Also, check out the schematics. There must be some weak spots we can exploit."
The corporal turned to study her console once more, her shoulders slumping in relief at having a task to perform.
Delta stood abruptly and left the bridge, her mind still reeling from her brother's confession. It was imperative to waste as little time as possible at Britannic. She couldn't decide whether she dare rush back to Constance II without destroying the ark. If Frederick was planning a coup then time really was of the essence.
Without realizing where she was going, she ended up walking past the brig.
"Delta! Thank goodness you're here," shouted Trask as she passed the door. "There's been a terrible misunderstanding."
Delta hesitated, not ready to have a conversation with the old man, yet her gut told her he may be of some use. She retreated a couple of paces, enough to allow her to see inside the brig.
Trask's gray hair was standing on end and his fine robes were creased and hung loosely from his gaunt frame. He couldn't have looked less like a former world leader. "Your guard placed us in here. I don't know what he was thinking."
Trask's consort had fared no better. Her clothes were disheveled and her once luxurious hair was constantly falling across her eyes. She looked old, tired, and not out of place inside the cell. "You should reprimand him for his mistake. Demote him at the very least. I've never been treated in such a rough manner."
Delta walked up to the door of the cell and looked down at the Trasks. They smelled of chemicals and sweat that threatened to overwhelm her senses. She took a step back but the odors lingered. "He was acting on my orders. When I said you would be my guests, what I meant was that you're my prisoners."
Trask huffed as he stood up, his legs shaky. "That's outrageous. You can't do that to us."
"You're dangerous to me and my world in more ways than you can imagine. I can't have you wandering around wherever you like. You should be grateful that the guard isolated the artificial gravity for you. Your decrepit bodies wouldn't be able to survive under normal levels."
"How long will you keep us like this? Chained up as if we were criminals or animals?"
"Until my mother decides what to do with you. I can promise you there will be no parades or public appearances though."
Trask slumped down next to his consort, who put her frail hand on his thigh and patted it tenderly. "Is Britannic destroyed? If not, I want to go back."
"Demolishing that old wreck is proving more difficult than anticipated. Your personal guard and the captain, along with Garrett, have put up a brave fight. But I will prevail. Would you rather die there?"
"That ship was my life's dream. My ticket to escape Earth and to lead a bright new world with potential. If that dream is dead then I'd rather die on the vehicle that brought me here than be used as a fascinating plaything by you and your wretched family. I still have my pride."
"We're not barbarians, Trask. President D’Angelo will treat you fairly, I'm sure. She will want to hear about your exploits. So you may still have your uses."
Something Trask had just said triggered a thought in her mind. "Grand President, if you were closely involved in the project for decades, then I assume you have an intimate knowledge of Britannic and its structure."
He returned her gaze with suspicion etched in his eyes. "I attended as many planning sessions as I could. A number of late alterations had to be made in order to accommodate my guards and equipment. New power lines with at least three layers of redundancy were installed to ensure my survival in cryo-stasis. I left nothing to chance when it came to my life and that of my beloved consort."
Delta allowed herself a smile. "As I suspected. So you would know of any vulnerable points on the ship?"
Shaking his head, Trask replied. "We made the PEAs as impregnable as we could with the technology available to us. If I am to believe we traveled for more than two thousand years, it surely proves Britannic is as tough as they come."
"I agree you did an amazing job. But there must be some weaknesses. No spaceship is perfect. Compromises always need to be made."
"After what you're putting us through you want our help to destroy Britannic? What's wrong with your advanced weaponry?"
"I don't have time to waste."
"So you want an old man lost in time to assist you. A man you've thrown into a cell. A man whose future you've described as bleak. You're either insane or desperate."
Delta shrugged. "I can do something about your future in return for your cooperation."
"Why should I trust you. All you've done so far is lie to us. I've known enough people like you who don't know how to keep promises."
"You're right. I'm desperate. Let me be totally honest. I need to return to my planet as soon as I can to prevent my little brother from succeeding in a coup to overthrow my mother. I'll take any assistance I can get. All I—"
Trask's loud laughter stopped Delta in her tracks. The laugh quickly turned into a hacking cough and his face turned scarlet. Eventually, with his consort scowling at him with a concerned expression, he recovered his breath. "I'm sorry, but I hope you can see the funny side. We're both getting screwed over by young usurpers."
His amusement annoyed Delta. "I don't see it t
he same way. You can appreciate my dilemma and why I would be grateful for your help."
"Tell me, how have you let this situation happen? You give the impression that you're in control and have the guts to make difficult decisions. I'm disappointed to discover you've allowed yourself to be outplayed."
"It's nothing more than an inconvenience. However, I need to rectify the matter before it escalates. Can I count on you for help?"
Trask walked back to the door, looking more assured and ten years younger than he had moments before. "You need my help for more than destroying Britannic. If you want to be president, you must be less complacent. What you need is an experienced advisor. You're still a young girl and you won't get the respect you deserve for that very reason. It doesn't matter who your mother is. There is no substitute for an elder statesman. Someone who can guide you through the pitfalls of being a leader."
"You're making that offer from a cell!"
"That's only because you didn't catch me at my best. I think we're more alike than you care to admit. And we find ourselves in a situation where we need each other's help."
Delta had to admit the old man was right. To an extent. She could use his help to get out of her current predicament. But Trask's usefulness was more finite than he realized.
"Okay, Grand President. I believe we can strike a mutually acceptable deal."
Chapter 49
Captain Maxwell looked worriedly at Takahashi, O’Brien, and Thompson. They had remained with her in the control room, anxiously staring at one another. She sympathized with them; the situation was out of their control and there was no telling if they would survive. How was she supposed to offer any motivational words?
One positive was she had convinced Major Thompson to send most of Trask's guards back to chamber five. They were irritable and small fights had broken out among the less experienced of them; no serious injuries, but Thompson had no choice other than to send them back to their pods on the pretext they all needed more time to rest and recuperate. That left just five guards remaining outside in the central core.
