Fearless

by Allen Stroud

  “Captain Shann, glad we finally have your attention. When are you going to let us out of here?”

  “What makes you think I’m going to do that?” I ask. “Right now, I’m waiting for you to give me a reason not to space you both.”

  “An empty threat, Captain, which we both know.” Bogdanovic moves across the room to the window and steadies himself when he reaches it. “You will not kill us because we share the same sensibilities. I didn’t kill you or anyone else when they were under my care.”

  I glare at him. “Who killed Technician Drake, Doctor? Rocher wasn’t on board when it happened. It had to be one of you two, or one of the others from the bridge.”

  Bogdanovic’s smile slips. “Ah. That. A sorry mess where no one did the right thing. Drake discovered our preparations. We couldn’t let him live.”

  “You killed him yourself then?”

  “Jacobson initiated the programme. We had no choice.”

  “A man’s life for your ideals,” I say. “The death of the others is on your conscience too.”

  “And I expect you killed people on the bridge. This is war, Captain. Surely, you see that by now?”

  I glance at Le Garre and Keiyho. They look like they’ve been through a war, and I guess so do I, probably. “Whatever way you try to frame your actions, Doctor, they are still crimes against the commitments you made to your fellow crew members,” I say.

  “Only history can judge us, Captain,” Bogdanovic says. “But right now, you have more immediate problems. The only thing that can stop the Gallowglass from blowing this ship to pieces is us.”

  I nod slowly, swallowing the anger. “Okay, what are you offering?” I ask.

  “When they arrive, surrender immediately. Let me speak to them and they’ll know your order is legitimate,” Bogdanovic says. “After that, let them dock. I will vouch for the crew. Everyone will be given the opportunity to join us.”

  “And if we refuse?”

  “You become prisoners of war.”

  I stare at Bogdanovic. He’s reaching. He has no idea what will happen if we refuse to switch sides. There’s never been a war in space. The necessary management of resources makes taking prisoners a costly business. We’re coming down to the wire. Both ships are damaged, running on finite supplies of oxygen, water, food and everything else. Every living individual on our ship and their ship consumes more supplies. The Gallowglass has been ruthless so far in murdering anyone in their path. I’ve no reason to trust they’ll keep us alive.

  But I’ve also no reason to play my hand here.

  “Let me discuss this with the crew,” I say to Bogdanovic. “We’ll make a decision after that.”

  “Don’t take too long,” Bogdanovic warns. “There are pieces in play that you are unaware of. I cannot control what may happen next.”

  I smile at the doctor. “Thanks, I’ll bear that in mind.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Johansson

  “You all right?”

  I look up. I’m sitting in the medical room on my own. All my patients are gone. Quartermaster Sam Chase is at the open door, staring at me. I force a smile. “Fine, I guess.”

  “You guess?” Sam points at the medical terminal. “You run the checks?”

  I nod. “Oh yes, sorry. My lung capacity appears to be unaffected. Some residual soreness, but that’s to be expected. No issues otherwise.” I sigh. “I guess I’m just a bit frustrated being stuck down here.”

  Sam nods. “I’m sure it’ll just be temporary. We don’t have anyone else with medical experience now Bogdanovic is locked up.”

  I glance down at my right hand and the surgical plug where my prosthesis had been plugged in until an hour or so ago. The neural connections need resetting after my trip outside, and we’ve no one trustworthy who can do it. “I feel useless stuck here.”

  “You’re the opposite of useless. That’s the point.”

  “Sure.”

  Sam scowls at me and moves into the room. “I mean it. I actually stopped by to thank you.”

  “For all that with the transmitter?” I shake my head. “We’ve been through this. It was a bit of stupid bravery that’s best not encouraged. This is my penance.”

  “No, for what you said after, about respecting protocols and the chain of command,” Sam replies. “You were right. I was out of line. Thanks for calling me on it.”

  “No problem, it’s forgotten.”

  “Thanks, but I won’t forget,” Sam says. “I owe you.”

  “Don’t mention it. We all have our moments.”

  Sam looks around the room. “What are you supposed to be doing?”

  I shrug. “I’m on hand in case there are any issues with the sedatives and the tourniquets. I’ve taken blood samples and screened them. It doesn’t look like Bogdanovic left us any surprises, but if anything happens in the next hour or so, someone needs to be on hand. Captain Shann says I should get used to everything and work out how the doctor has it all organised.”

  “Haven’t you worked with him before?”

  “A bit, but the captain’s right. Someone needs to know where everything is.” I remember something and smile. “Last time I was here, I almost offered to help him, but I’d been ordered to rest.”

  Sam nods. “Well, you’re right; you’re wasted in here right now. I know most of the inventory as I signed all the requisition transfers. I can put together a stock plan to make this easy. Let me deal with it.”

  “You sure?”

  “Of course. What would you do with yourself if you had the free time?”

  “Probably take a look at some of the data we have on the Gallowglass so we can find a tactical weakness?”

  Sam smiles at me and flips me a salute. “Sounds like a much more productive use of your abilities.”

  A few minutes later, I’m back in my room and logging in to my screen. The half-finished work from before appears, the audio fragments that we found what seems like a lifetime ago. There’s a complete repair assessment, which I sent to Duggins before the mutiny, and there’s a capability assessment of the Gallowglass as well, which I had the computer run based on the images of the damage we did to her. There’s a selection of conclusions saved in a file. I open that up and take a look.

  Interesting…

  I’ve already reported on the anti-collision system they’ve got that intercepted our torpedoes but the computer has concluded there’s a reaction time pattern to all the maneuvers and actions they’re making. We’d see a certain amount of this on any ship, since the level of automation between an instruction being enacted by a crew member and the system making that action takes a bit of time. However, there should be a certain amount of difference as people hesitate and change their minds.

  In this analysis, there are differences, but so many patterns. It’s almost as if the same person is making all the decisions…

  I need a second opinion. I call up Duggins. After a few seconds, his dishevelled face appears on the screen.

  “How can I help, Ensign?”

  “Before Rocher initiated the mutiny, I had the computer run an analysis on the Gallowglass based on all available information from our last encounter. Some of the conclusions took a while to complete, but I’ve got them now. I wondered if you’d take a look?”

  “Of course, happy to.”

  “Great. I’ll send them over.”

  Using the computer with one hand is weird. It takes me back to when I was really young, when I didn’t want to wear the powered gauntlet I’d been given. Still, I’ve always been able to manage, and I get the relevant files packaged and sent over.

  “Received, thank you,” Duggins says. “I’ll take a read and let you know my thoughts.” His window disappears.

  All the remaining clutter on my screen makes it look like a warzone of tasks and incomplete w
ork. I’m usually organised, but the last few days have been impossible. I’m thinking about the last time I looked at all this, Chiu’s reassuring touch on my shoulder.

  Oh yeah, Chiu…

  She betrayed us, but she then betrayed the mutineers. I don’t know her motives either way, but she’ll be facing charges. By rights, the captain can space her if she wants. I wouldn’t object.

  That realisation is chilling. This situation has changed me, made me hard and uncompromising. It’s the binary of war – allies and enemies. Out here, in space, there’s even less room for a grey area in between.

  I start into the rest of the processed reports and gradually get more and more depressed with the evaluations. The data is quite clear. We were outgunned and out-armoured when we went into the last altercation with the Gallowglass. In that fight, we took more damage, so we’re even more outgunned now.

  All of this makes me think about what I said to Sam and what I did outside. If we’re going to survive this, we have to set fire to the rule book. He was angry when he said that, but he wasn’t wrong. Maybe I was wrong to shut him down. The only way we’re going to win is if we do something risky and unexpected.

  I turn away from the screen and close my eyes. They want to shut for just a second. Maybe I’ll…

  “Johansson, you there?”

  I blink and look at the screen. An hour has disappeared. How did that happen? Duggins is back in front of me; he still looks tired, but there’s an energy about him I didn’t see before. I key up the receiver. “Sorry, Chief, must have dozed off.”

  “No problem. I’ve taken a look at your data. Can you meet me on the bridge?”

  “Sure, on my way.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Shann

  “It’s all automated! The whole ship!”

  I’m on the bridge, sitting in the replacement chair. We’ve turned all the seats around into a huddle. Myself, Keiyho, Johansson and Chiu are listening while Duggins talks, his eyes shining as if he’s just discovered the world is round.

  “Take a breath, Commander,” I say.

  Duggins’s face colours, and in a moment he’s become a schoolboy who’s just been told off. “Sorry,” he says. “Captain, I believe I’ve found a weakness in the Gallowglass. The ship is running a large number of systems on remote. The plans indicate it’s been designed for a crew of six.”

  “Six crew?”

  “Yes, Captain, I believe so.”

  “That means we outnumber them more than two to one, despite our casualties.”

  “Yep.”

  “Captain, there’s something else,” Chiu adds. “That level of automation means there must be a more advanced internal system making decisions for the ship.”

  “We have some of that,” I say. “Every ship has to rely on its computers, even the Apollo missions.”

  “Yes, they do, but not every ship will have active computer control of so many systems,” Chiu explains. She looks at Keiyho, who nods his encouragement. “We can look for patterns, predictable behaviours.”

  “I wouldn’t rule out hacking their system either,” Johansson says.

  “That’s a long shot,” Duggins replies. “But we should go over all the data we have from the last engagement. We may be able to find an automated system that we can exploit to our advantage.”

  “They will have manual control of weapons and manoeuvering,” Keiyho says. “We must look for something less obvious.”

  “Okay,” I say. A plan is forming out of these component parts. I don’t understand it all yet, but I can see some of the moves. “Duggins, is the message to Phobos ready?”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  “Will the Gallowglass detect a transmission if we send it?”

  “Depends on their position,” Duggins says. “The replacement communications rig is just that, a replacement. I can’t narrow beam our signal in the same way I could have done with the original.”

  “What if I want them to see it?” I ask.

  Duggins stares at me. Then he smiles, and the light from before returns to his eyes. “I think I can manage that,” he says.

  I nod and push myself out of my chair. “Okay, work on it here and then help the others. I want all of you working on a tactical weakness in that ship. Keep it quiet for now. I’m going to gather up the rest of the crew and prepare them. I’ll link you up to the meeting when I’m ready.”

  “Captain, given that we’re running out of time, you may want to think about our priorities,” Keiyho says. “All four of us here are needed to prepare the Khidr for battle. If we’re tied up working on this, you may not have any weapons to use against the Gallowglass. Similarly, if the crew are called to another meeting, we lose time. You can speak to them over the intercom.”

  I stop and stare at Keiyho. I’m about to reply sharply, but then I see his point. He’s right. I’m tired and not considering all the options. “Thank you, Keiyho. Apologies, I’m not thinking this through.” I remember Bogdanovic’s words – There are pieces in play that you are unaware of. Are there more traitors among the crew? Whether there are or aren’t, I’m doing exactly what I said I’d do when I spoke to the doctor. I need to change the game and hold something back.

  I force a smile. “I guess I need to start trusting people to do their jobs.”

  Keiyho nods. He glances at Chiu and squeezes her shoulder. “It can be difficult,” he says, favouring her with a reassuring smile. She flinches and looks away.

  “I should be doing something too,” I say. “I’ll head up to the torus and go over the data myself.”

  “I’ll come with you, Captain,” Johansson says.

  * * *

  Fifteen minutes later, Johansson and I are floating around the strategy room with a copy of the archive spread across the table and additional screens. “Permission to speak freely, Captain,” Johansson asks.

  “Go ahead,” I reply.

  “I don’t trust her. I think she’s lying to us.”

  I’m turned away from Johansson so she can’t see me frown. “You mean Ensign Chiu?” I ask.

  “Yes, Captain,” Johansson replies.

  “Why would she turn again?” I say. “Her only hope is that we accept her back.”

  “If it was preplanned, she could regain our confidence and betray us,” Johansson explains.

  “That would require a lot of foresight,” I say. “The Gallowglass isn’t in contact with us, and I don’t think Rocher was planning for his own death.”

  “There could be other traitors, though,” Johansson says. “We still don’t know who set up that transmitter we found right before we encountered the enemy.”

  “Yes, you’re right.”

  We’re staring at each other now. I can’t read her expression. “Is this why you wanted to accompany me here, Ensign?” I ask softly.

  “No, I—” Her voice quivers. She clears her throat. “No, Captain, I have a few ideas on our situation.”

  “Then let’s have them.”

  “Right, sure.” Johansson reaches out to the display of the Gallowglass schematic and brings it into the centre. “According to the data, as Duggins said, the ship has six stations, but a normal shift would need three people, if our crew rotation is anything to go by.” She touches the image of the Gallowglass’s bridge with her hand, and the room expands. “I’ve tried to identify what the crew roles might be. I’m guessing a pilot, a maintenance officer and a captain. One of those would need to double as a medic and communications specialist while on duty.”

  “With other roles being taken up in an emergency?”

  “Yes, exactly that. For example, a weapons specialist is not going to be needed unless there’s an emergency that requires it, so in that situation, a member of the second shift crew would take on that responsibility. Could very easily be the other pilot, or someone like
that.”

  “Okay, so by knowing what people are up to, we get an idea of what other systems on the ship are automated?”

  “Yes, but also what systems they may not pay attention to as much as we do and how vulnerable they are if members of the crew are taken out.” Johansson touches the screen, zooming in on the bridge. She gestures awkwardly, and the model moves into the air between us as a three-dimensional projection. “One that I think we can target is the respiration system.” Her fingers highlight the environmental pipes in the walls of the bridge. “If we can change the oxygen mixture in this one location, we can take out half the crew.”

  “How hard would that be?” I ask.

  Johansson shrugs. “On this ship, it would be impossible. There’s too many of us all over the ship. The Khidr is designed to breathe in reverse. The system detects the level of carbon dioxide in a room and removes it, replacing it with the correct ratios of oxygen, nitrogen and the rest. Three crew members have responsibility for monitoring the system, with regular portable sampling done every twenty hours. However, according to the data archive, the Gallowglass doesn’t have the crew to manage the same rota. They’re relying on the computer sniffers without a secondary check.”

  “All of this relies on us finding a way to access their computer system?” I say.

  Johansson nods. “Yes. Again, almost impossible. Our network can be accessed through a hardwired connection, just like we did with the Hercules, and, as you know, there’s a set of auto-docking protocols as well. The signal gets sent, and a space station tech takes over our final approach. That doesn’t help us much with the Gallowglass, but I might be able to modify it.”

  “Either way, we’d have to be in contact or within a kilometre of their ship to have a five per cent chance,” I say. “If you’re suggesting this, you must have an idea of improving on those odds.”

  “We could launch a propelled vehicle and deploy a team onto their hull,” Johansson suggests. “There are enough parts in the hold to adapt a drone and rocket to make what we need.”

  I shake my head. “That’s still a lot of resources to commit to a slim chance. If they have an autonomous intelligence, there will be several layers of additional security to bypass. Besides, if we managed to hack their computers, we would be in control of their ship.”