* * * *
The silver steel doors slid smoothly aside and back into place again as Ford strode confidently into the ready room. The walls either side of him were bare, aside from a couple of dispensers for food and drink on opposite sides of the room. They were similar to the ones they had found in the complex under the planet, when they first encountered Gaia and the alien tech she guarded, four years ago. A large floor to ceiling view screen was spread across the wall opposite the door. In the centre of the room an oval, black marble table, appeared to grow organically upwards and outwards from the floor. It was surrounded by padded black leather chairs, that also appeared to grow up out of the floor, on storks that rotated through 360 degrees. In front of each chair a touch screen was embedded in the table. Ford flopped himself into the chair at the end of the table nearest the door, facing the view screen, and used the touch screen in front of him to activate it. An awaiting input message appeared on the wall. He moved his hand across the touch screen tapping it as he went, to reveal a concealed data port in the table beside it. He reached inside his cloak and pulled out the package Chancellor Ocoto had given him before leaving Anobar, with strict instructions to only open it in the event of the Federation approving his extradition. He broke the official seal, ripped open the envelope, and pulled out its contents. There were two items a purple high capacity data crystal and a rectangular bright orange data chip, similar to the ones carried by traders. He dropped the purple crystal into the data port. A larger than life image of Ocoto in his private quarters, getting ready to leave for the emergency assembly, called to rule on Fords extradition, appeared frozen on the wall opposite him. His hands moved deftly across the touch screen, securing the doors, deactivating the room’s integral logging devices, and evoking privacy mode before touching play.
Ocoto’s image came to life pacing backwards and forwards behind his desk. The recording device struggling to contain him in its field of vision. He stopped and turned to face the camera. He stared intently at it with piercing brown eyes, his black hair combed immaculately into place, with not a single hair rebelling against him. The crisp navy blue jacket braided with medal ribbons and dazzling white shirt of his dress uniform looked as if they were literally hot off the laundry press. He could almost make out the individual pores on his freshly shaven face. He sat down at the desk, adjusted the recorder and, resting his elbows on the edge of the desk, clasped his hands together in front of him.
“Ford this is a recording I never wanted to make. Even now I hope against hope I’ll be destroying it on my return to Anobar and you’ll never learn of its existence.” he paused before continuing. “But the omens aren’t good. The federation isn’t strong enough to sustain a conflict against the Talmari and their allies. There are those who would rather sacrifice you than risk surrendering the freedom so many fought and died for against Malstrom. They fear that a conflict with the Talmari alliance would open the door for a fresh round of hostile takeovers by Vesperon and the other corporations in the guise of offering protection. They don’t want to risk everything for one man, even you, even if, in a manner of speaking, you committed those alleged crimes during another life.”
The screen blanked out briefly, voices were barely audible in the background. Someone Ocoto didn’t want to see him recording, or perhaps someone he didn’t want Ford to see, had come into the room to pass on a message or deliver something. He isolated the audio and transferred a copy into a private, encrypted databank for later analysis and continued. Ocoto was back in his chair, alone, but holding something in his hands twirling it around between his thumb and finger. A bright orange rectangular data chip.
“If we can’t stop the extradition, you're to do as we discussed. We both know that Jasper needs to be stopped and you’re the only one who can stop him. You’re to take the ship you’ve been building, whatever crew and resources you need and do whatever needs to be done. Officially you and whoever goes with you will be criminals, exiles, wanted by half the galaxy. I can’t promise when or if any of you will be allowed to return. So anyone who goes with you needs to be clear this is a one way trip, a strictly volunteer mission.” he stopped and smiled. “Although I’m sure you won’t be short of volunteers. Do whatever you can to aid the federation and strike back at our enemies along the way, because unofficially, off the record, I and lot others will be doing whatever we can to help and support you.” he held the data chip up to the camera. “This is the key to an untraceable black-ops bank account, a list of contacts, traders and safe havens you can call on if needed. We’ll update it as often as we're able, you should do the same. To the untrained eye, without a specialist AI to decode it, the data will look just like a stream of transactions on a normal trading account. It also contains a picture of this woman.” he turned a photo frame on his desk towards the camera to reveal a young woman barely out of her teens, black curly hair flowing over her shoulders, laughing at something out of shot, her soft blue eyes sparkling with merriment. “My granddaughter, she’s been missing since the attack on Velia system six months ago. Find her for me.” he turned the photo back round coughed and steadied his voice before continuing. “Good hunting Ford. My sources suggest your first stop should be the Nova-7 Free Trade Hub. Try not to get killed and make sure you destroy this recording.”
He pulled the crystal out of the data port and crushed it between the palms of his hands, before dusting them off into the waste disposal section of the dispenser nearest him. He watched as it atomised the crushed remains to recycle its latent energy back into the ships systems. Then walked back to the table and deactivated the screen. He slipped the orange data chip into his cloak, cancelled privacy mode and made his way to the bridge.
Exiles Page 17
