Slave Mind

by Rob Dearsley

  Hale cut him off. “Lives will depend on the path you choose.”

  Their eyes met, the Spook’s aloofness crumbling into shock. “You hear them?”

  Hale didn’t reply, instead glaring at him. Whatever this was, they were playing with fire.

  ◊◊

  Arland looked up at the ceiling. It was a standard SDF medical bay. She could be anywhere in human space, on any ship. Was this some sort of nightmare? She could have sworn she’d heard Ambrose. Admiral Ambrose. It couldn’t be. He couldn’t have gotten a promotion after the mess of Augite III

  The soothing heat bathing her left side faded, leaving her skin cool and tingling. She could feel the slight breeze of the air recirculators against the new skin.

  “You’re awake. Good. It was touch-and-go for a minute.” Vaughn pushed his glasses up his nose.

  “Where are we?” she asked.

  “SDF Pavel,” a med-tech answered, joining them. “Is that everything, sir?”

  “Sir?” Arland gingerly got off the bed and tried a couple of experimental stretches. Her side was still sore and twanged painfully as she moved, but it was a lot better than before and she’d be back to full strength in a couple of days. If she lived that long.

  Vaughn studied his flex. “You call the captain ‘sir’ all the time.”

  He was lying, or deflecting, and she was fed up with it. She couldn’t carry on like this, suspecting but not knowing.

  She slapped the flex out of his hands. “Damn it, talk to me.”

  “What do you want?”

  “The truth.”

  “I worked with the SDF decommissioning wetware labs. I piloted a project to use bio-computing to increase data processing rates. It failed because of closed-minded people like you.” He stepped back, breathing hard.

  Arland blinked, taken aback by his passion, his anger. “I— I don’t know what to say.”

  Before either of them could say more, an SDF Marine marched over, hard-shell strapped over his barrel chest. The armour made Arland acutely aware of how exposed she was in just a medical gown and under-suit leggings. “I’m to take you to join your companions.”

  Vaughn picked up his flex and pushed his glasses up his nose. “Of course. We’re finished here anyway.”

  They followed him through the antiseptic corridors, past ranks of rigidly proper soldiers and stiff starched officers exchanging crisp salutes. Arland hugged herself, acutely aware of the looks her state of dress was getting.

  They passed through the gallery for a parade deck. Ranks of soldiers marched in sequence, each man in perfect unison. The rigidity, the order. She gazed longingly at the uniformed men. It had been such a big part of her life for so long. Stars, she missed it.

  She was surprised when the Marine led them into a big conference room near the bow of the carrier.

  “So, you’re keeping us here?” the captain was saying as Arland walked in. Her Marine took up station at the periphery of the room.

  “You know as well as I do that you can’t leave while we’re on the highway,” Ambrose replied. “As soon as we get to Titanite you’ll be free to go.”

  Arland dropped into the chair next to Luc. Vaughn slipped in next to her. The captain and Commander Hale were on the far side, with Ambrose at the head. His ego wouldn’t let him take any other spot.

  “As for the Terran,” Ambrose continued, “she’s an enemy combatant. We will have to take her into custody.”

  “I’d like to see you try.” Trust the captain to rub Ambrose up the wrong way. It was an effort of will not to smile.

  “Marines,” Ambrose ordered. The four men moved from their spots around the room toward Hale. She stepped back from the table shifting her weight, centring herself ready for battle.

  One of the men produced a pair of handcuffs. “Ma’am, place your hands behind your back.”

  Hale kept her hands loose at her sides. If it came down to close combat, her reach was longer than the Marines, and she was stronger as well. As Arland saw it, the Marines didn’t stand a chance.

  “Hale,” the captain’s voice cut the rising tension.

  “Captain?” Hale’s eyes looked unfocused. Arland knew the look: she was watching everything at once, or trying to.

  “Don’t. It’s not worth it.” The captain’s voice was quiet and tired. He looked like he had aged ten years since Gypsum. His eyes were badly bruised, and his hair and clothes looked even more unkempt than normal.

  “Sir,” Arland said, “we don’t have to stand for this. Commander Hale’s not done anything wrong.” And it was her damn fault they knew the truth about Hale.

  The captain closed his eyes. “I know, Arland, but we can’t fight a whole damn ship.” He turned toward Ambrose. “But, Admiral, this isn’t finished. When we slip back into normal space, I’m leaving, and I’ll be taking all my crew”

  Hale relaxed, holding out her hands. A Marine snapped cuffs on her and led her from the room, two others following along behind, just out of reach. That left only one guard in the room with them.

  “Why are we going to Titanite?” Luc asked. “There are closer systems for staging posts.”

  “Orders,” Ambrose replied.

  “From the SDF or the Spooks?” Arland asked.

  “Orders are orders.”

  So not the SDF then. This wasn’t the time for political games.

  “We’ll be to Titanite in four hours. Until then, you can wait here.” Ambrose turned on his heel and marched out.

  ◊◊

  “Well, that could have gone worse.” Dannage flopped into one of the chairs around the table, scrubbing his face with the balls of his hands. Grief hungrily crowded the edge of his thoughts. He'd love nothing more than to curl up in the corner and embrace sweet eternity.

  “We can’t let them lock Hale up.” Arland’s temper was still high.

  He looked up. She watched him, expectant. Damn it. “What do you want me to do?”

  She turned away, growling in frustration. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore.”

  Dannage felt the same. He was wrung out. Despite his raging words back at Gypsum, he didn’t have the first idea about fighting a war. And right now, all he wanted was sleep. “I don’t see how we can stop the Terran ships. They’re too powerful. Even with the whole SDF fleet, we can’t win out against them.”

  Maybe they couldn’t win against the Terrans, but he would be damned if he wouldn’t do everything he could to save his crew. All of them.

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, short-range com unit.

  “Jax, you there?” he whispered, walking to the far side of the room, away from the Marine, as though to admire the wall hanging. Pompous thing that it was.

  “Yes. They’ve got Marines in the Folly, locking her down.”

  “Free to go, my ass,” he muttered.

  “Sorry, didn’t catch that.”

  “Can you scan the ship and let me know where Hale’s being kept?”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  He closed the channel and dropped the com unit into his jacket pocket.

  “Cap’n.” Luc sidled up beside him. “What’re you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking there’s no good way out of this.”

  Nine

  - Titanite System -

  Arland stood in the Pavel’s hanger bay, watching through the opening as they slipped from the featureless blue of the highway and into normal space. The Titanite system was massive, seventeen planets orbiting a red giant. She was reminded of Arland’s story, of the TDF staging post somewhere light-years away, where a fleet massed to take on the greatest threat humans had ever created. And now, they were doing it again.

  Beside her, the rest of the crew waited, exuding nervous energy.

  “So, we’re free to go now?” the captain asked.

  “The Admiral requests your presence on the bridge. After that, you ship has been cleared for disembarkation.”

  Arland resisted t
he urge to roll her eyes. More game playing. Typical Ambrose.

  “Arland,” the captain ordered. She fell in behind him without question. Tugging on the uniform they had loaned her. It was an enlisted uniform, a simple jumpsuit. But it was still a uniform, something she hadn’t worn in years. It wasn’t until she was back in one that she realised how natural it still felt.

  They rode the lift under guard, all the way to the Pavel’s bridge.

  The bridge was laid out over two levels. The officer’s stations looked down over the watch pit. Ambrose stood on the upper level. Beside him, Hale was handcuffed, guarded and on her knees.

  “Where are the Terran ships going?” Ambrose demanded.

  “I don’t know. I can only communicate at close range,” Hale replied.

  “We know they left Gypsum an hour ago,” Ambrose said. “Where would they go?”

  “I don’t know,” Hale repeated through gritted teeth.

  “Assuming they left Gypsum the same time we did, when would they get here?” the captain asked. The interruption raising Ambrose’s ire.

  “It’s fifty-six light years from here to Gypsum, give or take,” Arland supplied.

  “Around eighteen hours,” Hale said.

  “Well, at least you got some information out of her,” Ambrose said. “Even if it’s useless.”

  Arland looked around the bridge. It was unusually quiet. Other officers steered clear of their little group. It was just like Ambrose to bring a prisoner to the bridge for interrogation. He always liked to show off to the men.

  “How many other ships are you rendezvousing with?” Arland asked, keeping her voice pitched low enough to not travel.

  “The local SDF force is garrisoned in orbit of Titanite IV.”

  Arland stepped back, shock and disbelief curdling inside her. After what happened at Gypsum, why weren’t they mobilising the whole SDF to meet this threat? The local forces combined with the remains of the carrier group gave them a little over a hundred ships. Against even six Terran ships, it might be enough.

  “Sir, our best bet is to concentrate our forces. We can mobilise faster than they can. We need to use that.”

  “If I wanted advice from someone like you, I’d ask for it,” Ambrose snapped.

  They didn’t stand a chance with someone like Ambrose in charge.

  “Admiral.” The captain’s voice, although quiet, held an iron-hard tone of menace. “Give me my crewman back, and let me go.”

  Ambrose was about to respond when one of the officers called from the scanner station. “Sir, we’re picking up contacts from the edge of the system.”

  At the same moment, Hale doubled over in pain.

  Oh Stars, how had the Terran ships gotten here so fast? It couldn’t be the same ships that attacked Gypsum. She couldn’t believe Hale’s calculations could be that far off.

  The captain grabbed Hale before she fell and helped her to a nearby chair.

  “What is it? What are they saying?” He knelt beside her.

  “What’s going on?” Ambrose blustered, they ignored him.

  “Hale?” Arland crouched next to the captain.

  “It’s the Core Minds,” she gasped. “X-ships, at least one of them. Ranting: we will free the oppressed.” She let out a pained gasp and clutched at her head.

  “Come on,” the captain said. “We’ll get back to the Folly and the doc can give you some more of those blockers.”

  “I don’t think so.” Ambrose moved to stop them. “I’m not going to let you take our best intelligence asset.”

  “She’s not an ‘asset’,” the captain said through clenched teeth.

  “The Terran stays.”

  “Over my dead body,” the captain said, “or preferably, yours.”

  “Sir,” she cut in before the captain pushed it too far. “I’ll stay with Hale. I’m sure the Pavel’s med bay can administer blockers.”

  “I’m not letting you take my intelligence asset anywhere.” Ambrose’s voice rose high enough to draw concerned looks from the nearby officers.

  The captain looked about to hit Ambrose. Arland placed a placating hand on his arm. “Admiral.” She emphasised his title. “We both know torture is illegal, and you have a duty of care to your prisoners.”

  She took great satisfaction in Ambrose’s reaction. He tried, and failed, to weasel out of it.

  “Fine, take her to medical. But I want her back here as soon as she’s stable.”

  Arland nodded, helped Hale to stand, and started for the doors with Dannage at her back.

  Once they were in the lift heading back toward the centre of the ship, she propped Hale up against the wall and turned to face the captain.

  “Sir, you need to get back to the Folly and get out of here.”

  “I know.” His eyes met hers. “We need to get gone before that muppet admiral knows what’s happening.”

  She shook her head. “No, sir, I’ll get Hale to the Pavel’s med bay. You need to get out of here before Ambrose gets everyone killed.”

  “Arland.” He stepped forward, almost reaching for her but stopping himself. “I’m not leaving without you and Hale.”

  “I’ll try sir, but if things get hairy you have to run. Don’t get the others killed on my account.”

  The captain was about to reply when the lift doors opened. They were greeted by a pair of Marines, armed and armoured.

  Behind the Marines, alarms buzzed and men ran to their battle stations, yelling orders. All these men, good men, would be dead before the day was out. It killed her inside.

  “Please come with us,” one of the Marines said, his voice unusually cultured.

  Arland turned to the captain, giving him a small, sad smile.

  “Sir, get back to the ship and get safe. Please.”

  He nodded, swallowing and turned away from her. “Damn it, Shauna.” He kept walking and didn’t look back. Watching his receding back, she felt a twinge of regret.

  She helped Hale to stand again and started down the corridor, studiously ignoring the Marines.

  “Lieutenant.” Hale pulled on Arland’s shoulders, trying to rise. “The ships, they’re looking for something.”

  “In this system?”

  Hale winced in pain.

  It didn’t take them long to get to the med bay, where Vaughn stepped in to help her with Hale.

  Arland rested Hale on a bed. “Why are you here?”

  “Captain asked me. I know Hale’s physiology better than the ship’s doctors.” He pressed a hypo into Hale’s neck.

  “Feeling better?” Arland asked.

  Hale nodded. “Yes, thanks. I can still hear them, but it’s bearable now.”

  “It doesn’t block them out completely?”

  “It did in Gypsum. It’s the X-ships I think. Their minds are so much louder.”

  Arland was about to ask more. What were they saying? Did she have any idea what they were looking for? Why here? The deck dropped away beneath them, the concussion of a nearby explosion ringing through the compartment. They were under fire already.

  She turned to Hale. “We need to get to the bridge.”

  ◊◊

  Dannage stalked across the cargo bay, scrubbing his eyes with his sleeve. He had definitely not been crying. That hadn’t been goodbye. Arland would show up any minute and they could bug out, work out what was going on and come up with a proper plan. Or maybe just keep running. Some part of him knew there was no way for them to outrun this war. That eventually he would have to stand and fight, or watch everything he cared about burn.

  Flight crews rushed back and forth, but they kept clear of him, perhaps reading his mood. All around him, crews prepped the dart-shaped fighters for battle.

  Dannage quickened his pace as he approached the blunt arrowhead of the Folly, eager to get back to his ship and get away from here.

  The gravity had been cut in the Folly’s hold. Luc waited inside, floating over by the ladder to the bridge. “We ready to go?”

&
nbsp; “Soon.”

  Luc followed Dannage into the bridge. Dannage threw himself into the pilot’s chair, brought the systems online and started going through the pre-flight.

  “What about Arland, Hale and Vaughn?” Luc asked, taking his own chair next to Dannage.

  “They’re coming.” They had to be, he wouldn’t leave without them, without her.

  Luc didn’t reply, and Dannage didn’t pursue further conversation, putting all his focus into the controls. The engines were warmed up. Nav systems were online, the HUD populated and ready to roll. They were ready to go as soon as the rest of his crew were back.

  In front of them, the open docking bay framed two huge gas giants, Titanite XV and XVI, the outer planets in the system, Titanite XVI’s rings, spun around her at a jaunty angle.

  Fighters spilled from their bay to join others leaping from bays all along the length of the carrier. They took up formation between the Pavel and the planets.

  Backlit by the blue-green of the gas giants were the blocky, aggressive shapes of the Terran ships. Scanners said forty-eight some already breaking off to go for the inhabited moons. Titanite XVId was an industrial complex. Dannage could see the flashes of weapons fire even against the glow of the planet.

  “Cap’, we should think about getting out of here.”

  “No,” he replied. “We wait for Arland and Hale.”

  The planet began to grow in their view. What was Ambrose doing? Was the muppet actually moving to engage the Terran ships? Was his plan to get them all killed as quickly as possible? Had he not seen Gypsum?

  Terran ships peeled away from the main battle group and accelerated toward them.

  “Cap’n.” Luc’s voice held a warning tone.

  “Any sign of Arland?”

  “Nothin’ yet.”

  His hands didn’t move on the console. He watched and waited.

  The Terran ships fired. Particle beams, missiles and shells lashing out toward the carrier group. The fighters shot forward to engage the enemy and divert the weapons before they hit the capital ships. Several fighters took direct hits, vaporising instantly.

  One of those huge missiles got through the initial defence screen, heading straight for the Pavel.