by Ryk Brown
Aiden closed his eyes, remembering how many times Kenji had warned that he would get them all killed. How ironic that Kenji would turn out to be the only one who survived.
* * *
The Amonday’s port boarding hatch rolled open, and they were met with a surprisingly cold blast of frigid air.
“Good call on the cold-weather gear,” Jessica congratulated the Ghatazhak sergeant behind her.
“We were here yesterday to do a secondary sweep,” Sergeant Sodano replied. “Cold as hell, even with level threes.”
“I hope it’s only the airlock,” Jessica said as they entered the airlock.
“The whole ship,” the corporal said.
“How the hell do they expect anyone to survive in this?” Jessica wondered.
The outer airlock door closed, and the inner airlock door rolled open, revealing a long corridor.
“They do not,” Commander Andreola replied. “That’s the idea. If you fail to carry out the Dusahn’s orders, they want you off the ship or dead. They care not which.”
“Lead the way, Commander,” Jessica urged, gesturing toward the corridor. After the commander walked past her, she turned to the sergeant. “If he tries anything, shoot him,” she said in a near whisper.
“No problem,” the sergeant replied.
Jessica and the two Ghatazhak followed Commander Andreola forward, down the corridor and around the corner. “This doesn’t strike me as a warship,” she commented as they navigated the frozen interior.
“All of our ships are built as general-purpose vessels,” the commander explained as they walked. “Each can easily be converted into whatever is needed. They all began their lives as cargo ships. None of them became armed until the Porkaish incident when a Toramund ship attacked one of our cargo ships. That incident provoked a short-lived war between our peoples, followed by a military buildup by both sides that lasted decades, until the Dusahn arrived and put an end to it.”
“By wiping out Toramund?” Jessica surmised.
“Precisely,” the commander replied. “The Toramund were given the opportunity to ally with the Dusahn and refused. Extinction was their reward. That is why my people surrendered without resistance. The Dusahn came, bombarded our world for a few minutes, and then accepted our complete surrender.”
“You just gave up without a fight?” Sergeant Sodano asked.
“It was a matter of survival,” Commander Andreola insisted. “The Dusahn came with twenty ships, all of them vastly superior to our measly eight ships. Had we resisted, we would have suffered the same fate as Toramund.”
“My apologies,” the sergeant offered. “My intent was not to be judgmental. It’s just hard for me to imagine.”
“That is because you are trained as a warrior. You live your life in the company of warriors. The Orswellans are a peaceful people who were forced into war and then forced to serve their conquerors. Some of us may have been trained to fight, but it is not in our souls.” The commander stopped at the next corner. “The bridge is there,” he said, pointing to the hatch at the end of the short corridor.
“After you,” Jessica replied, gesturing for the commander to continue.
Commander Andreola did as instructed, continuing to the hatch at the end of the corridor. He pushed the hatch inward, stepping through onto the bridge.
The lighting on the bridge of the Amonday was just as dim as it had been throughout the ship. The only difference was that a few panels appeared to still be alive. The commander moved over to one of them, taking a seat at the console. “This is a general-purpose station,” he explained. “It can be used to access any ship system or function. From here, we should be able to download all schematics, specifications, and navigational data to a portable storage card.”
“Card?” Jessica wondered.
The commander opened a small drawer to the right of the console, pulling out a card about the size of his palm. “We call these ‘data cards’. We use them to move information between systems.”
“Why not just transfer them directly?” Jessica asked.
“Isolation of critical systems,” Corporal Teel surmised.
Commander Andreola looked at the corporal, surprised.
“The best way to prevent a cascade failure of networks, due to erroneous or malicious code, is to keep them isolated from one another,” the corporal explained.
This time, it was Jessica who looked at the corporal with surprise.
“What, you think all we know how to do is fight?”
“No, you’re just the first Ghatazhak I’ve met who’s also a computer geek.”
“There are more of us than you think,” the corporal said with a wink.
“Couldn’t the malicious code be carried over onto the card and then introduced into the next system?” the sergeant wondered. “I’m not one of them,” he said to Jessica. “What did you call them?”
“Geeks?”
“That’s it.”
Now it was Commander Andreola who was confused. “I do not understand this term.”
“Geek?” the corporal asked. “It refers to someone who is really smart and really good-looking.”
“I see,” the commander replied. “In answer to your question, Sergeant, it is not possible for the data card to carry malicious code. In fact, it cannot store any code. The cards are designed to store data only.”
The console where he was working suddenly went dark, as did the other consoles, one by one. Finally, the lighting on the bridge went out, as well.
“What’s going on?” Jessica wondered.
Two lights appeared at the ends of both Ghatazhak soldier’s weapons, both of which were pointed at the commander’s head.
“It wasn’t me,” the commander assured them, his hands immediately going up.
“Alert, alert. Containment failure in one minute,” a computer voice announced.
“Uh-oh,” the commander said.
“Does that mean what I think it means?” Jessica asked.
“Fix it!” the sergeant barked.
“I cannot!” the commander insisted. “It is the Dusahn! They must have rigged it to be triggered by any tampering!”
“Shuttle Two Five, Nash!” Jessica barked over her comm-set as she grabbed the commander by his jacket, lifting him from his chair. “Let’s move! We’ve got to get to the shuttle!” she added, heading for the exit.
“Go for Shuttle Two Five,” the pilot replied.
“Be ready for immediate departure!” Jessica ordered as they cleared the hatch and ran down the corridor. “This ship is about to lose antimatter containment! Call Rogen command, and make sure all ships are clear of the area and be ready to jump clear as soon as we’re aboard!”
“Two Five copies! How long until containment failure?”
“Containment failure in forty-five seconds,” the voice announced.
“Forty fucking seconds!” Jessica replied as they raced down the gangway ladder to the next deck.
“We’ll never make it to the boarding airlock in time!” the commander insisted as they ran.
“We have to!” Jessica argued.
The commander stopped at the intersection. “We have to go this way!”
Jessica and the Ghatazhak also stopped. “The shuttle is that way!” Jessica insisted, pointing in the direction they had been running.
“Trust me!” the commander insisted, taking off down a side corridor toward the port side of the ship.
“Shit,” Jessica cursed, turning to follow the commander.
“Jess!” the sergeant called after her.
“Come on, Sergeant!” Jessica ordered.
“You’re kidding me,” the corporal said, following the sergeant as he ran after Jessica.
“Containment failure in thirty seconds,” the voice warned.
“This is a really bad idea, Jess!” the sergeant yelled as he and the corporal chased Jessica and the commander down the corridor.
Jessica followed the commander around the
corner, where he stopped at a small half-height hatch and began punching numbers into a control panel next to the hatch.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Jessica demanded.
“Overriding the lockout,” the commander replied.
“Containment failure in fifteen seconds,” the voice warned.
“To what?” she demanded.
“An escape pod!” the commander replied. “Got it!” he added as the hatch slid open. “Get in!”
“Shuttle Two Five!” Jessica called over her comm-set as she climbed through the small hatch, practically falling into the cramped interior of the tiny pod. “Jump clear, now!”
“But…”
“Containment failure in five seconds,” the voice warned as the corporal climbed through the hatch.
“That’s an order!” Jessica added, cutting the shuttle pilot off.
“Four…”
“Understood,” the pilot replied.
The sergeant practically dove through the hatch, tumbling into the corporal as he landed inside the pod.
“Three…”
“Two Five away,” the pilot called. “Good luck.”
“Two…”
Commander Andreola climbed inside the pod, activating the hatch from the inside.
“One…”
“Hold on!” the commander warned as he pressed the launch button.
“Containment failure,” the voice announced.
There was a sudden hiss of compressed air and then a loud bang. The pod lurched out of its port, accelerating quickly through the Amonday’s thick outer hull. The force of the sudden acceleration sent all four of them tumbling into a pile against the back wall of the escape pod, despite their best efforts to brace themselves. As they cleared the hull and jumped, something else hit them…as if they had been struck by a solid object from behind at the same moment they jumped.
Jessica could only remember one other time in her life when she had felt such a sensation. “Oh, please don’t tell me we just jumped a thousand light years.”
* * *
“Anything?” Robert asked over his comm-set.
“Still nothing, sir,” his sensor officer reported. “Trust me, sir, I’ll let you know if I find anything.”
“You’ve got the target, right?” Robert asked.
“Yes, sir. The Dusahn assault ship is just now coming around from the backside of Palee. We may have jumped in just a bit far out. I have no way of telling if this is the orbit during which we…”
Robert looked at his copilot when the sensor officer stopped mid-sentence.
“Jump flash!” the sensor officer reported. “It’s us attacking the target. This is weird.”
“What’s weird?” Robert wondered.
“Nothing, just watching us from the past,” the sensor officer replied. “Striker Two just jumped in as we jumped out. They’re firing… Uh-oh,”
“What is it?” Robert asked.
“Jesus,” the sensor officer exclaimed.
“What?”
“Oh, my God!”
“You’re killing me, here, Kas,” Robert exclaimed.
“Damn! That kid is a maniac!”
“Kasma! What happened to Striker Three?”
“One moment, let me play it back to be sure,” the sensor officer replied.
“Easy, Robert,” his copilot, Sasha, counseled his distraught captain.
“The target anticipated Three’s attack, sir,” the sensor officer finally reported. “They had guns on him the moment he jumped in. Tore the hell out of them. It looks like they couldn’t get a clear jump line to escape. Striker Three actually glanced off the target’s hull trying to get to their jump line, which is amazing, considering they were trying to keep their best shield toward the target the entire time. They even killed the target!”
“Did they jump?” Robert demanded.
“Yes, but,”
“But what?”
“Not all of Striker Three jumped, sir,” the sensor officer reported.
Robert said nothing for a moment, his sensor officer’s words sinking in. “How much?”
“The entire back half of the ship,” the sensor officer replied solemnly. “It looks like they took a hit as they jumped, or even a split second before.”
“Could they have survived?” Sasha wondered.
“Best I can tell, they were severed just aft of the number-three main bulkhead.”
“Captain, if the forward half jumped intact, they’d be on emergency battery power and life support,” his engineer added.
“Which gives them about a day,” Robert surmised, trying to sound hopeful.
“Assuming none of those systems were damaged, as well,” his engineer added.
“Did you get their jump course?” Robert asked.
“Yes, sir,” the sensor officer replied. “However, because of their partial jump, I can’t calculate their jump distance.”
“Feed me their course data,” Robert instructed, turning his attention to his navigation displays.
“Aye, sir, sending it to your console now.”
“Robert, even if we start from the outer edge of the Palee system…” his copilot began.
“We have to start from within the Palee system,” Robert insisted, “and I’m aware of how long it could take to find them.”
“Assuming we can find them,” Sasha added. “Who knows what effect that hit had on their jump. They could have broken up in their jump. They could be scattered across several light years.”
“And we’re going to search every one of those light years,” Robert insisted. “Five-light-minute jumps with five-minute scans.”
“Even at that distance, we could still miss their debris, if they completely broke up,” his sensor officer warned.
“I’m operating under the assumption that they didn’t,” Robert replied as he prepared the first jump, “as I would hope they would do if it were us.”
* * *
“What do you think?” Nathan asked Deliza, hovering over her shoulder while she studied the portable workstation attached to one of the Sugali fighters.
“This program is incredibly complex,” she exclaimed, obviously astounded. “It has self-diagnostic systems, learning and analysis algorithms, personality matrices, emulators, conversation algorithms, anticipation features… I could go on and on. It’s incredible.”
“I am flattered,” Leta said. “You’re not so bad yourself, Miss Ta’Akar.”
“Thank you, Leta,” Deliza replied, smiling.
“I can also analyze foreign systems if given access,” Leta announced. “For example, I noticed the damage to the port side of this hangar. Based on what little I learned about this ship on approach, I have determined that it has suffered significant damage, likely due to a recent battle. Perhaps I can provide assistance?”
“How might you do that?” Cameron asked.
“I can analyze your ship’s systems, assess damage, prioritize power usage, and order of repairs; possibly even suggest opportunities for upgrades to systems,” Leta explained.
“But to do that, we’d have to give you unlimited access to all our systems,” Nathan surmised.
“That would guarantee the best results,” Leta admitted, “however, I understand your reluctance.”
“You do?” Cameron wondered.
“I am an artificial intelligence from a world about which your people know little. For all you know, I could be a covert digital operative, working for your enemy to incapacitate or take control of your vessel.”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” Nathan admitted.
“I had,” Cameron replied.
“Perhaps you could isolate one of your damaged systems, prior to allowing me access?” Leta suggested.
“Thank you for the offer, Leta,” Nathan said. “I’ll talk to our chief engineer about the idea.”
“As you wish, Captain.”
“Captain, Comms, flash traffic,” Naralena called over their comm-sets.
&nbs
p; Nathan tapped his comm-set. “Go ahead.”
“Rogen command received an urgent relay from Lieutenant Commander Nash, through Shuttle Two Five, warning that the Amonday’s containment fields were about to fail, and to clear the area of all traffic.”
“Sensors, Captain,” Nathan called. “Position of the Amonday?”
“Three light min…” The sensor officer suddenly stopped. “Captain! The Amonday just went critical, sir! She’s gone!”
“What about Shuttle Two Five?” Nathan asked.
“Unknown,” the sensor officer replied. “The blast is preventing any readings of the immediate area.”
“Comms, Captain,” Nathan continued, “contact Rogen command and ask them to dispatch search and rescue to the area. We’re on our way.” Nathan turned to Deliza and Abby. “Keep studying this, and get Commander Kamenetskiy to look at it, as well,” he added as he turned to exit.
“What about the Reapers, sir?” Commander Prechitt wondered.
“You can have them for three days,” Nathan called back as he and Cameron headed for the bridge, “but not until after we deal with this.”
* * *
“What the fuck just happened?” Sergeant Sodano demanded, after stabilizing himself in the microgravity environment of the escape pod.
“Downloading all that data must have triggered some Dusahn security protocol,” Commander Andreola replied. “I swear, I had no idea this would happen.”
“I know,” Jessica replied.
“You believe me?” the commander asked, dumbfounded.
“If you had, you wouldn’t have tried to escape,” the sergeant surmised, “and you probably would’ve tried to find a way for it to happen closer to the Aurora.”
The commander looked at Jessica.
“What he said,” she added.
“What did you mean by your statement,” the commander wondered, “when we jumped, about the thousand light years?”
“Long story,” Jessica replied. “Any idea where we jumped to?”
