Exiles

by Richard Alonzo

  * * * *

  The main hanger deck was an impressive site. The cleaning, sterilising and outfitting of the cramped and insanitary cargo pods, they’d found the refugees in, had largely been completed. They were now, if not a home, almost habitable. Anna had, with the help of a couple of heavy duty fabricators, a well organised field hospital running on one side of the hangar. Most of the miserable cargo of eight thousand lost souls, that had been recovered from the meat run, had been scanned, checked, treated and vaccinated. A few had been confined to the hospital for treatment, but for the majority the most serious condition had been dehydration and malnutrition. The initial security checks hadn’t thrown up anything too serious, other than a dozen individuals who had been detained for further investigation. The focus of the relief effort for the moment had switched to kitting everyone out with clean clothes and the basic kit needed for life on Themis. Ensuring they were well all fed and watered. The next stage would be to start processing those who had volunteered to join the crew. Running them through training simulations and evaluating their performance. It was a task to which Bryson would have been well suited and he hoped he would soon have him back to carry it out.

  A large gantry had been wheeled out into the centre of the hanger deck to serve as a makeshift podium. A substantial crowd of crew and refuges were already mingling together in front of it. On the far side of the gantry, next to the fighter launch tubes, lay eighteen coffins draped in the flag of Free Forces of Anobar. A reminder, if any were needed to Ford, that the crew desperately needed an identity of its own. Something to bind them together and give them a sense of common purpose. Especially now they looked set to have a large influx of recruits from other planets and races, that could see the original crew compliment from Anobar reduced to a minority. It was also painfully obvious that apart from Jay’s single fighter, which he’d christened the Jay Bird, and the Phoenix, currently missing in action, they lacked any fighters or support ships. He’d drawn the line at salvaging the Anterian Striker and adapting it for their use. It was just one of the many issues he’d need to address after dealing with the Raiders and rescuing Bryson and the others.

  He pushed all these thoughts and others to the back of his mind as he stepped up onto the gantry to address the assembled masses. Shutting Gaia and Alaster out of his mind also, so it was just him, alone, facing the crowd. He stopped in the dead centre of the gantry and turned to face them all. His freshly cleaned trademark cyber cloak, hood thrown back, draped over his battle scared combat armour. A hushed silence fell over the deck, the fabricators fell silent, people stopped what they were doing and turned to face him.

  He held up his hand to acknowledge them. “We are here today to pay tribute to our fallen comrades, who gave their lives in the line of duty. Who sacrificed themselves in defence of not just of this ship, their comrades, colleagues and friends, but for everyone who stands here on this deck today, irrespective of their race or status. Our freedom to stand here today, to honour their memory, was bought with their blood.” he paused, clenched his right fist and clasped it to his chest. “And for that their memory will live on in our hearts and minds, for as long as we endure. Their sacrifice will not be forgotten!” he watched as the crew followed suit clasping their fists against their chest and slowly, hesitantly at first, the civilians followed their lead. He moved his arm away slightly and brought his fist back to his chest to emphasise his point. “From the stars we came, to the stars we return.”

  The crew took their cue from him and echoed his cry “From the stars we came to the stars we return.”

  He repeated the traditional call out for the fallen twice more, each time raising his arm before bringing his clenched fist back against his heart. Each time his audience returned the call, growing louder and stronger with each repeat. Then the hanger deck fell silent as the honour guard, formed from the surviving members of Bravo and Charlie teams, removed and solemnly folded the flags draped over each coffin. Sliding them into the fighter launch tubes, then stepping back, they stood to attention facing the loaded tubes. A single member of Bravo and Charlie teams carried the flags of their fallen friends and comrades up the gantry to Ford. Where he saluted them and took their burden. Placing it reverentially on the makeshift podium beside him before they saluted him and rejoined the honour guard.

  Ford turned to face the crowd once more. “Let the stars takes their bodies. Let their memories live on in our hearts and deeds.”

  “Live on in us!” the assembled crowd cried as the honour guard saluted their comrades one final time. Ford activated the launch tubes, sending their metal encased bodes flying towards the hot, red, brooding mass of Scorponoid-A.

  A second or two later no one heard him whisper “From the stars you came, to the stars you return.” as he activated the jury rigged thrusters of what was left of the Anterian ship, that had burrowed into their hull. Sending it, its boarding party, and anything else that had looked remotely alien in sector seven, spinning into the heart of the compact, boiling blue mass, of Scorponoid-B. Quietly he stepped down off the gantry, handing the folded flags to the fresh faced member of the honour guard who was waiting to collect them. He recognised him as the one whose kneecap had been shattered in the battle, he patted him on the shoulder. “They would have been proud of you today, make sure you don’t forget them.” then turned away to where Carol was waiting for him.

  “Nicely done, it’s not every day a funeral has a positive effect on crew cohesion and moral.” said Carol as she looked at the faces of the crew and the civilians milling around on the deck behind them.

  Ford gave a weak smile. “Well, if takes a burial of the fallen to lift people spirits, then I’d say we’d got a real moral problem, but the sooner we get everyone thinking and functioning like a crew the better.”

  “About that. We have a problem.” sighed Carol. “Lucy's taken the Jay-bird. She left a message, something about flying recon on the Raiders and listening out for further broadcasts from Jay.”

  He rolled his eyes upwards, only this time it wasn’t to commune with Gaia. “You we’re saying something about crew cohesion? She’s going in the brig when she gets back so help me.”

  Carol raised an eyebrow. “Really? I seem to recall Lucy telling me that you told her not to worry too much about petty protocols and not lose sight of the things that make us human. Seems like she took the message to heart.”

  “Maybe, but I’m beginning to realise that without a real chain of command, and sense of purpose to guide them, this ship and its crew won’t survive.” he responded as they made their way back to the bridge.

  By the time they arrived on the bridge Bryn had already begun deploying the collector web. Dozens of drones, carrying fine filaments of energy absorbing wires attuned to the energy signature of the red giant, weaving backwards and forwards in an intricate dance. Creating an energy hungry spiders web spanning several kilometres. It sucked up the life giving rays of the brooding red star to feed the living fabric of the ship. The outer hull glowed and throbbed as energy pulsed through it, steadily healing the wounds and repairing the scars of battle.

  Themis’s AI Alaster projected his avatar on to the bridge. “Themis and I wish to thank you all. Even with all the demands placed on us to fabricate the items you, the crew, Sultan and the refugees require, we should be back to full functionality and all our energy banks recharged in a matter of hours. Now that the web has lifted the load off the ships reactors.”

  “I’m pleased to hear it.” said Ford “I’m going to need everyone at their very best if we’re going to rescue Bryson, Jay, and anyone else who’s got themselves into trouble.”

  “I’m sure everything will be to your satisfaction.” replied Alaster bowing slightly as his avatar disappeared from the bridge.

  “I sometimes think that we’re serving his and the ships agenda, not the other way round.” said Carol shaking her head.

  “We’ve got a wormhole forming.” added Bryn. “The Sultan has just d
ropped into the system.”

  “The admirals hailing us.” said Carol routing it to the main holoprojector.

  “Sorry about the delay Ford I had a few things to discuss with my crew.” said the Admiral keeping a poker face. “But the good news is we’re in. We’ve got a lot of refuges on this ship ourselves, who could have easily ended up on the Amastra. So we have a duty to help you rescue your friends and put the meat run out of business.”

  Ford smiled. “It’s good to see you Admiral, our fabricators are running at full capacity, so we’ll start shipping supplies to you immediately. I’m pulling a meeting together to draw up a battle plan. The Themis ready room an hour from now.”

  “Acknowledged, we’ll be there, Faiz out.”

  He turned to Carol. “Make sure Vlade and the leaders of the humans refugees and the Hyneari are there as well assuming they’ve appointed one.”

  Carol nodded. “Logan, former union leader on the mining colonies, tough bastard by all accounts and Horra a Hyneari matriarch, not one you’d want to mess with either. They say they tell their children horror stories about her when they misbehave.”

  “Just get them there, let me worry about the diplomacy, I’ll be in my quarters. I’m not to be disturbed till the meeting, I have things to discuss with Gaia and Alaster.” he said as he started to leave the bridge.

  Carol called after him. “You’re a lucky man, never having to worry about being lonely.”

  He laughed and shook his head, if only she knew how crowed it got sometimes inside his head, she’d welcome the loneliness.

  He closed his cabin door behind him and invoked privacy mode. It was the standard layout for senior officer’s. Bed at the rear, across the far wall, with a small two draw vanity unit beside it for storing personal items. There were no lights as such, as the light seemed to emanate from the walls of the ship itself and could be infinitely varied to give subtle shifts in the levels of ambient light around the cabin. On the left as you entered the remaining wall space was taken up by a desk and chair with an interactive touch screen built into the wall above. Various anachronistic items were scattered across the desk. A small tablet computer, pens, papers, a couple books. Ford didn’t really need any of them on a ship like Themis, but they made him feel more at home. On the right had side, recessed into the wall, were a small wardrobe and secure locker for weapons, armour and other items. Next to them concealed behind a door was the bathroom with a sink, toilet and shower, all of which used real water. It was the most obvious luxury which he allowed himself. It was strange he thought, given that the ship had the power to reconfigure his quarters to his liking, he’d opted for a standard military style layout. Deciding he’d grown tired of the burnt sienna palate the room currently used, in the blink of an eye, he instructed Alaster to shift it to a lighter palate of subtle blue shades. Watching as the ship effortlessly complied with his command.

  He sank into the comfortable blue padded chair beside the desk, tipping his head back and rolling his eyes upwards, till just the bloodshot whites were showing. Slipping into the dark, complex, data streams of the dataverse once more, to commune with Gaia. It was a difficult transition, cold beads of sweat pricking his forehead as he struggled to find his way and locate her. It had changed since he last linked with her. The data streams were muddied and confused, probabilities and possibilities intermingling and conflicting with each other in unexpected and jarring ways. Whole constellations of data nodes had rearranged themselves in new and disturbing constellations. He tried to manipulate them back into more stable configurations. Assessing how outcomes could be changed for the better. Searching for viable probabilities to restore order to the chaos, but they resisted his touch. Time and time again, slipping back into chaotic, incoherent patterns, that seemed to lead inevitably to confusion and destruction. Frustrated he let them be and focused his attention on the brightest of all the stars in the vast galaxy of dark data, Gaia, and zeroed in on her. As he drew closer the brilliant star resolved itself into Gaia’s avatar, the one they had first met beneath Anobar.

  She appeared as always as an ethereal Greek goddess, long flowing black hair running down the back of a plain blue silk dress, hemmed with ornate silver stitching. She stared intently at him with her dark hazel eyes. “Do you feel it Ford? The disturbance? The disruption in the data flows?"

  He nodded silently, although of course, in the virtual world of the dataverse, neither of them had a corporeal presence.

  “A dark time is coming, chaos spreading like a plague, leaving a trail of destruction and misery in its wake, but some will profit from it.” she continued.

  “There must be a way to stop it.” he said. “But every time I explore the options, rearrange the data, search for the optimal outcome, its keeps slipping back into the same pattern.”

  It was her turn to shake her head. “One man, no matter how well intentioned, cannot reshape the universe to his will. It is a lesson that more than just you will have to learn and it will, I fear, come at a great price to many.”

  He gave a dry humourless laugh. “Even Jasper? That cruel bastard cuts through the universe like a Verion blade, leaving a trail of pain and suffering wherever he goes.”

  Gaia smiled and shook her head again. “He is but a poorly trained pet, kept on a tight leash by his master, Jackson. He barely comprehends the power he has been given and uses it to manipulate individuals and situations for his own personal gain, observe.” she pointed to two binary data nodes spinning wildly around each other like binary stars. Consuming each other’s matter as they spiralled toward oblivion and quietly manipulated the data streams to show him the optimal route to restoring stability. “What Jasper has done can easily be undone if you so choose, but this is different.” she spread her arm across the dataverse gesturing to the sea of confusion he’d swum through to reach her. “It seeps into the very fabric of space and time itself, infecting thousands of star systems, altering the course of countless billions of lives.”

  “Then who else has access to this tech? I thought Malstrom’s research was lost when the Angel-1 research facility was destroyed back on Anobar.”

  Gaia replied by dipping into the data streams that ebbed and flowed around them, pulling various newsfeeds together. Replaying the appearance of the High Priestess addressing the people of Malshenko and Malstrom’s core worlds. “It would appear not. Analysis of the available data suggests that this woman was present on Anobar during the rebellion and vanished shortly afterwards, before reappearing as the High Priestess a few months ago.”

  “She’s responsible for all this?” he asked tilting his head to the chaos that swarmed around them.

  “Perhaps, but she is not alone, the Brethren speak of a Priestess and Prophet who will pass judgement on humankind and deliver the faithful from the fall of civilisation.”

  Ford interrupted her. “But only for a price, I’ve seen some of their literature and salvation doesn’t come cheap. If this so called prophet has acquired the ability to manipulated data streams in the dataverse, to see all possible probabilities and possibilities, they can influence events and shape outcomes to make their prophecies self-fulfilling.”

  Gaia responded by pulling more newsfeeds together. The absorption of what was left of Malstrom into the Brethren. Their conversion of the Vesperon, Haldyne and Zodan battle fleets. The growing unrest spreading through their crumbling corporate empires.

  “But how does bringing down the corporations benefit them? Worlds will revolt, break free and petition to join the Federation. By crippling the corporations, they strengthen us.”

  Gaia sighed and shook her head. “A little perhaps, but for every world that breaks free dozens more will fall into chaos. Revolts will fail, old animosities resurface, civil wars, famines, and plagues break out, land grabs by smaller corporations, alien incursions and more occur. The Federation is young and insecure it can barely hold the members it has together. You of all people should know that, condemned along with your friends to the
life of an outlaw and exile to prevent it tearing itself apart.”

  A wry smile crossed his face. “And into all this chaos come the Brethren with a mighty fleet of ships, bringing order and security, for those willing to pay the price of enlightenment.”

  “Or so they think, for those that sow the wind, reap the whirlwind, and the forces they unleash will not be so easily controlled.”

  “So how do we stop them?”

  “We don't, you must ride the storm and provide a beacon of hope for the lost.”

  It was Ford’s turn to sigh. “You’re not much of a motivational speaker you know. Still I guess we start by putting the Raiders out of business and rescuing Bryson and the others. Any suggestions?”

  “I’m downloading some specifications to Alaster you may find useful.”