by Frank Carey
"You do know you don't need to arrive in an asteroid space ship to impress her."
Quinn cuffed him.
"Quinn? This is Nystrom."
"We're here, sir."
"We caught a break, Captain. The designer of that ship is on his way to Command. He was on-planet for a conference. You are to proceed to the ship's auxiliary control room and await further orders. We're sending you directions, over."
"Roger that, sir. Sir, we still have the bot problem."
"Their shutdown code is included with the directions. Inputting the code will stop the attacks. We're also sending a patrol ship to act as a relay. His call sign is Fan Boy, over."
"Yes, sir. Copy Fan Boy."
"Hang in there, you two. We've got your six. Control out."
"Got the directions. Got the code," Stan said.
"Deactivate the bots," Quinn ordered, "then we need to find this other control room."
Stan partially opened the aft bulkhead just enough for Quinn to take a quick look. "Clear," Quinn said as a signal to open it fully. They could see the empty corridor stretching aft. "Where are we going?"
"That way," he said while pointing aft.
"What aren't you telling me?"
"I think we have to pass by the cave entrance, either that or we get there an hour after we arrive at Tralaska."
"Great! We've got a bunch of armed smugglers and only one working weapon between the two of us," Quinn noted.
"We'll just have to rely on our charm and chutzpah," Stan replied as they hurried down the hall. Half-way to their destination, a call on the encrypted channel came through their comms. "This is Fan Boy on station. How are you two holding up?" The voice sounded vaguely familiar.
"Fan Boy, this is Aardvark. We're proceeding to auxiliary control room. Bots have been deactivated, over."
"Good. Just FYI, I did a flyby of the landing site. Several suited bodies are visible. It looks like the hatch was destroyed by weapons fire. We'll have to find another exit for you. Is Wingnut with you, Aardvark?"
"Fan Boy, this is Wingnut, over."
"You really need to change that call sign. I have a message for you from Ali. She insists you not be late for dinner. Do you copy, Wingnut.”?
"Give her a moment, Fan Boy," Stan said as Quinn teared up.
"Copy that, Fan Boy. Tell her I wouldn't be late for the world."
"Roger that, Wingnut. Message received and relayed. Fan Boy standing by."
"Quinn, are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. Do you know this Fan Boy?"
"Nope, but scuttlebutt has it that command is reactivating a number of old timers from Space Command to supplement the current ranks of pilots. Ships we got; pilots, not so much."
"Old timers... When I first met Ali's brother, his jacket had a 'USAF' patch on it. Wasn't USAF the old United States Air Force?"
"Cap, I said old timers, not mummies. The United States Air Force disappeared almost two centuries ago when Earth adopted the planetary government. How old is Ali?"
"My age."
"See, you're 29, so she's 29, which means her twin brother is 29. I read that in a book somewhere."
She gave him the infamous tilted-head-hairy-eyeball look. "It looked like a real jacket and a real patch."
"It's amazing what you can buy on the InterWeb."
They rounded a corner and came to an abrupt stop. Ahead of them were bodies, lots of bodies both robot and organic.
Scans of the bodies showed no survivors. Further scanning showed all the weapons and power packs dead. Frowning, Quinn looked around. "No Captain Brown," she noted.
"Maybe he's outside," Stan replied while hooking a thumb in the direction of the cave entrance.
"Maybe. Let's get moving," she said while her frown only deepened.
CHAPTER SIX
Fan Boy looked out the cockpit windows at the huge asteroid ship he was flying with. Except for several comm antenna towers jutting out from the surface, it looked like a perfectly normal asteroid, it’s rough exterior belying what it held inside. "Kinda big, isn't it?" Sarah asked through the SAC.
"I thought a mech protector was big. This thing is huge. So, the Logash used these things to seed this part of the galaxy?"
"Yep. The Logash of two-million years ago had huge egos, but they didn't like getting their hands dirty, so they let robots do all the work."
"Don't Tralaskans carry Logash gene fragments?"
"Yep, which is impossible if this beasty was the ship that seeded the planet. I hear tell the scientific community is in an uproar over this find. Something about throwing away twenty years of research."
"Things never change. Back in my day, scientists did this sort of purging on an almost daily basis. The science fiction writers couldn't keep up."
"Boss, permission to speak freely."
"Always."
"I'm worried about our people inside that beast."
"They'll be fine. I read Stan's jacket. I'm surprised he's still playing co-pilot."
"I noticed you said nothing about Quinn."
"I knew a driver, back in the day, who reminds me of Quinn. We called him Three Degrees."
"Huh?"
"He was always three-degrees off plumb. I couldn't begin to tell you how many cars he dented when he misjudged where the corners of his vehicle were. It was if he was slightly out of phase with the rest of us. One day, Three picked up a very important member of a very important family. She was a pistol and very pregnant. He was supposed to take her shopping when she went into labor. Unfortunately, they were trapped on a bridge due to a traffic jam. Somehow, Three was able to call emergency services before delivering the baby. By the time EMS arrived, the baby was swaddled in Three's jacket and in her mother's arms. The paramedics just shook their heads when they saw old Three had done everything right. Funny thing, the rest of us are pretty sure Three didn't even know where babies came from."
"And your point is?"
"When the going got rough, Three rose to the occasion. From the moment I first met her, I knew Quinn would do just that: Rise to the occasion."
"And if she doesn't?" Sarah asked.
"Two battle wagons and three cruisers will vaporize this rock and all aboard."
"Assuming this rock lets them."
###
Commander Nystrom looked up from the holographic tactical display just as Agendor walked into the room. Like all Logash, Agendor had elf-like ears and tail, along with glowing blue eyes and a glowing blue crystal embedded in his sternum. "Dr. Agendor, my name is Commander Nyquist. Thank you for coming at such short notice."
"Please, just Agendor. You can't imagine my shock when I heard you found the prototype."
"Prototype?"
"Yes, the two ships are a prototype system for terraforming and seeding planets with Logash life forms. We built one, set it out on a test, and never heard from it again. This was decades before the Alue visited us."
"So, why is one ship hiding in Trala while the other is, or was, parked out in the Kuiper Belt?"
"That was not part of the original programming, nor is parking anywhere near a viable planet. The prototype was designed to search out dead planets inside the Goldilocks zone of a G-type star. Once in place, the terraformer creates the proper environment. When it's finished, it calls in the seed ship. When the seeder arrives, the former goes into supply mode. When both ships are finished, they are programmed to fly into the nearby star so that no trace of an advanced civilization remains. No, this behavior is completely off-script."
"OK, we can figure out the whys if we can get the two ships under control."
Agendor dropped a messenger bag on the table before rummaging through it. He took out a thumb drive and handed it to the commander. "The former ship is the easiest one to start with. Transmit the codes contained in the drive and the former will shut down operations then go into orbit. Of the two, the former is many times more dangerous to Tralaska than the seeder.”
"Speaking of the seed
er..."
"You've got two Space Patrol pilots aboard her, correct?"
"Yes, Captain Bracken and Lieutenant Stanley. Both are competent pilots."
"Good. Since the main control room was destroyed--I knew we needed to bury it deeper in the ship's body--we need to get your pilots into the auxiliary control room. From there, they can take control of the ship assuming at least one of them has Logash genes."
"Quinn is human/Tralaskan and Stanley is Alue."
"That explains the security alert. Stanley will register as a non-Logash sapient species. Are they armed?"
"Yes."
"Energy weapons?"
"Yes, blasters."
"We programmed a response to armed, non-Logash sapients: destruction."
"You mean someone like me would trigger...?"
"No, we seeded your planet, so you're safe. Now, if you were born in the Large Magellanic Cloud, that would be different."
"But Stan was able to access the computer system."
"Low-level stuff like doors and fire-suppression systems are low-priority while driving the ship is much more protected. Nope, Stan can't drive, but he can turn on the lights."
"Wonderful. The fates of billions of lives are in the hands of Quinn Bracken. Just plarking wonderful," Nystrom muttered.
###
Quinn stood back and watched Stanley curse the door and the locking system holding it shut. He had tried to open it by interfacing with the lock, but the lock refused to respond. He then tried tapping in codes, accessing it with his comm, then accessing it with his scanner. Finally, he beat on it with a fist, but it refused to budge. Admitting defeat, he called command and talked to someone. After a few yeses and OKs, he killed the connection. Hanging his head in defeat, he swept his hand toward the control pad. "Your turn."
Raising an eyebrow, Quinn walked over and placed her hand on the pod. The door swung open, revealing the auxiliary control room. "What the hell?"
"Full blood Alues don't have traces of Logash genes in their DNA. Humans and Tralaskans do."
"Cool!" Quinn said as she pranced inside while Stan followed in a more dignified manner. "So, what now?
"Let's find out." He took out his comm and made a call. "Actual, this is Tango-2. We're in."
"Tango-2, actual. You are approaching Tralaska. Quinn, you've drawn the pilot card. Find the pilot's seat and get in it. Agendor will give you a crash course in driving a very large bus, over."
"Tango-2, this is Fan Boy on STARGUARD channel, standing by. May your sails be full and your seas smooth."
"Fan Boy, do I know you?"
"Possibly. I'll let you know when we have an after-mission beer, over."
"I look forward to that, Fan Boy. Tango-2 standing by." She sat down and buckled in. "Let's get this party started."
CHAPTER SEVEN
Quinn took her comm unit out and activated it before setting it down on the console next to the pilot's seat. "Actual, this is Wingnut, I'm ready to take control of Tango-2, over."
"Wingnut? You really need to change that call sign. My name is Agendor. Can I call you Quinn?"
"Of course, sir."
"Sir? You make me sound old. Just call me Agendor."
"Yes, si... Agendor. Where do we start?"
"You should see a flashing green light on your left armrest. That's the security override. Press it."
She did. The light went out. "The light is out."
"Good. Stan can now operate the ancillary systems. Remember, only you can pilot her."
"Copy that. Agendor, what's her name?"
"Prototype. I know, it's a sucky name for a twenty-click long ship, but we Logash don't go much for ostentatious monikers for equipment."
"Roger that."
"Ah, we've established a data link with Prototype's computer system..." The labeling and displays changed from incomprehensible symbols to Standard. Joysticks rose from both chair’s armrests while flight instrument overlays appeared on the forward view screen along with an image from the bow of the ship. "I've configured the controls to follow League-standard specifications."
Quinn placed her hands on the sticks--throttles left, flight controls right. "Fighter controls on a twenty-click long ship?"
"The auxiliary and main control rooms were only used for the testing phase. They were sealed after launch. Readings indicate Prototype is on a collision course with Tralaska. I estimate an ocean impact off the coast of Tralaska's capital city. Come to course 137 degrees by +23 degrees for orbital injection."
Quinn took the controls and tried to adjust course. Nothing happened. "Agendor, we have no joy on course correction."
"I see that... Checking... There's an open circuit in the primary control stack... Sending reset command... No joy, so we'll have to do it the old-fashioned way. Someone's got to go three doors down the hall and press a flashing blue switch. That should fix the problem."
"I've got it," Stan said as he headed out the door.
"Be careful out there," Quinn yelled after him. "Fan Boy, have you been monitoring?"
"Of course. Just so you know, I'm still looking for a way in. I realize I'm preaching to the choir, but you are getting awful close to that pretty planet."
"Copy that, Fan Boy. So, where did we meet?"
"At an entertainment establishment. You were there with a pretty girl named Ali. I assume she's the same Ali as the one who sent the message."
"Since I only know one Ali, it would stand to reason. She and I have been to a lot of entertainment establishments. Can you be more specific?"
"Nope. It'll all make sense, I promise. Um, that planet is getting closer."
She took the controls and tried to maneuver, but still no joy. She tapped her comm. "Stan, sitrep!" The comm remained silent.
"Fan Boy, Agendor, we have a problem..."
"Step away from the controls." Quinn got up out of the command chair and turned to face the source of the voice. At the back of the control room, holding a weapon to Stan's head, stood Captain Brown. His face bloodied and his cloths ripped, it was obvious he had seen battle. "Over there," Brown said while nodding to his left. Quinn did as she was told.
"Captain Brown, this ship is about to run into Tralaska and kill millions of innocent people. Put your weapon down, and we can talk about this after I get this ship into a stable orbit?"
"The ship is mine under all the laws of salvage."
"Fine. You can take that up with Tralaska, just let me do my job." Quinn's mind raced as she tried to figure a way out of this. She had no weapon, and even if she did, she couldn't risk firing inside this confined space...
"Release the copilot and slowly raise your hands," a space patrol pilot with the name "Fan Boy" stenciled on his uniform said as he stepped into the room with the muzzle of the weapon pressed against Brown's head. "Now."
Brown did as he was told. Once disarmed and in restraints, he was put in an empty chair and told to behave.
"Thanks," Stan said.
"I fixed the problem in the equipment room," a second pilot said as her helmet retracted to reveal a smiling Sarah. "Hey, handsome, where have you been all my life?" she said to Stan.
Stan Blushed.
"I've got control," Quinn reported as the ship turned at her command. "Agendor, I have positive control of Prototype. I need a new course correction."
"Copy that. Is everyone OK? Over."
"We're fine, over." He replied with a new course correction. As they entered the upper atmosphere, Quinn turned the ship to put it into a stable--and higher-orbit. Once the giant ship was safe, she set the autopilot before vacating the seat.
"Tango-2, this is actual. Your relief is on its way. Good work, all of you. Quinn, you are full of surprises. We'll talk when you get back to the command center. Actual standing by."
"You were going to try to jump Brown, weren't you?" Stan said. "He could have killed you, then what?"
"You disarm him, then force him to fly the ship to safety," she replied. "His model pistol has a
n extended recycle time."
Fan Boy leaned against a console and glanced over at Sarah who shrugged back. He then looked back at Quinn for a moment before tapping his wrist control to retract his helmet.
"Olly?" Quinn exclaimed. "What the hell?"
"My commission in the Air Force was reactivated as part of Space Patrol's personnel ramp-up."
They looked and saw the USAF and Area 51 patches. "You have a custom flight suit?" Stan asked.
"Something like that. I wanted to see how much sweetener they'd put into the re-enlistment pot."
Quinn gave him an indecipherable look. Her mind was full of questions, but they had to wait as the relief team had arrived to take the ship and Captain Brown into custody. When she finished bringing them up to speed, Quinn looked around, but Olly was nowhere to be seen. "Where'd Fan Boy and Sarah go?" she asked her copilot.
"The commander called them back to the station. Olly said he would talk to you later."
"You bet he will," she said as she headed down the corridor to the where a shuttle awaited them.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Commander Nystrom stood next to Agendor and watched as Defense Minister Serena Mall and Captain Rollin Brown, along with her team of lawyers and his team of lawyers, argued ownership of the Logash seed ship which they were standing inside. "When are you going to tell them?" he asked the geneticist.
"What, that under League salvage laws the ship is the property of the Logash people? My team is putting together a deal which will satisfy both sides. Until then, I'll just let them argue."
"Brown does have a point about the families needing funds."
"We've already paid them, but asked that they don't tell anyone, at least until my team finishes their proposal. The captain's crew were a group of scallywags, but their families shouldn't suffer due to the crew's indiscretions."
"You've got that kind of capital laying around?"
"Lots of tech royalties, not to mention patents. Even this simplistic prototype will bring in millions of credits from the systems, and every Logash will share in the spoils. I love living in the League. Back in the day, we'd be lucky to get one-percent after the government took its pound of flesh."
