The comms officer spoke up again. “Captain! Contact two-two-delta is hailing us again.”
“Can you see what they’re trying to say?”
“Putting through to your chair, sir!”
“Tac, can you translate it?”
The message references earlier failings, most probably the former crew, that saw this ship banished from the fleet. The captain of the enemy ship is confirming the status of this ship’s standing in the eyes of Ar’od Dar.
“He’s taunting us?”
It would appear so.
I checked the sensor readings again. The ship was still falling behind us.
“Captain!” called one of the systems operators, “Two-two-delta’s aspect is shifting. She’s turning away! Updating vectors now.”
Before any of us could celebrate, a violent shudder rippled throughout the ship. Following in its wake, a deathly silence as the main propulsion cut off completely. I hesitated only a second before contacting engineering.
15.
“Gannerson! What just happened!”
“Sorry, sir!” came an unfamiliar voice, “Gannerson is busy organising firefighting teams. We’ve lost all propulsion!”
“I can see that! What happened?”
“One of the emission lines ruptured, sir. The temperature differential started a plasma flash. The Chief has most of the crew here getting suited up to put out the blaze.”
“Tell Gannerson to pull everyone out! I’m going to vent oxygen from those spaces,” I keyed in Tac’s comms line, “Tac, get me the life support AI’s online.”
Waking them up now, Seth. They’re responding. What should I tell them?
“Can they detect the fire in engineering? Around fuel line number three?”
They are unsure exactly what a fire is. I shall attempt to educate them. Apologies, the life support AI is suffering from significant rampancy, I had flagged it for high priority purge as soon as we were able.
“Just get it to find that compartment fire.”
My comms panel lit up, engineering was online again. I hit the button.
“What the hell is going on?” said Gannerson, “We got a fire raging that could spread to adjacent compartments if we don’t get it out soon!”
“I understand, Chief. I’m trying to get…” I was cut off by the sound of an explosion on Gannerson’s end. I could hear the old engineer yelling at various people, calling for something to get shut down and fuel lines closed. Suddenly, the line went dead and the bridge went dark. Startled, several bridge staff cried out in alarm.
“Tac! What’s going on? Why am I losing power?”
#@//..eth, it appe&s tha-_he AI’s have decided to take matters^&w#$_ands. Should I ini%#e -_&62rge?
“I can’t understand, Tac. Your line is all jumbled. Say again!”
&^’s hav__(one rogue! I am att&#%ng countermeas&%$#s idea if it*_-3rk. I recommend fu__3purge immedia$#!
“Sir!” called the comms officer, “All internal comms lines have been severed!”
“All stations,” I called, “What is your status? Does anyone have power?”
“Systems console two is rebooting, sir!”
“Systems one is offline.”
“Systems three is online, but locked in external sensors.”
“Both weapons are offline,” said Martine, dashing between the two, “So is helm.”
“I need a runner to get down to engineering and find out what’s going on down there,” I said, “I need someone to go down to the cargo hold and find out from Merade if anyone is hurt and to tell them not to wander the ship. If we’ve got rogue AI’s we have no idea which ones are out of control. The next compartment you wander into could suddenly vent into space, so all runners are to get into light duties space rigs.”
Kekkin stood up and started shouting at the handful of soldiers we had up on the bridge. Eventually, he had two ‘volunteers’ suited up and sent off down through the ship to get me information.
“Systems three! Let me know the instant you see any contacts turning to investigate why we suddenly lost propulsion. Especially our friend two-two-delta.”
“Aye, Captain!”
“Systems console two has rebooted!” called Martine, “It’s asking which config we want.”
“Can you get me internal sensors?”
A moment passed while she checked. “Yes, sir! What do you want to see?”
“Give me heat sensors near engineering.”
“I’ve got two compartments with massive heat signatures, one completely dark. Fire suppression systems are offline.”
I turned to Kekkin. “Get me more volunteers, get civilians if necessary, but I want firefighting teams assembled and headed to engineering to give Gannerson a hand.”
He turned to the assembled bridge staff, the ones not involved directly with station operations. In moments, he had runners dashing off.
“LT!” called Rego, “I might have an idea.”
“Let’s hear it,” I said.
“We should disconnect all consoles from the nexus, and do full reboots.”
“Martine! Up here, now,” I called. When she arrived, a little out of breath, I asked Rego to repeat what he told me, “Will it work?”
“It might give us full control again, but we’ll lose a lot of automated systems. Most of these guys have never done manual bridge work.”
“Have you?”
“Yeah, long time ago, though.”
“Time to reacquaint yourself. Pull the plugs and reboot.”
She nodded and ran down below.
“I can help her,” said Rego, “Geko, give me a hand getting down the stairwell.”
Geko dutifully supported Rego as they went down to the operations deck.
For several minutes, I had nothing to do. I had to wait for the various teams to report in before making any more decisions. Tac was still silent, I had no idea what his status was, nor the condition of the rogue AI’s that were apparently doing their worst to wrest control of the ship away from me.
After what seemed an age, Martine called up with good news. “We’ve got Weapons back online, all systems and helm operational and comms is coming online now. Weapons will be manual track and fire only, so you can forget point defence. Systems data is going to be raw, so don’t expect the whole slew of information. Comms, are you online?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Can you re-establish internal communications,” I said, “With the sensor nexus?”
“No, sir. We just pulled the connection out.”
I slapped my forehead. Think, I thought.
“Can you get engineering online?”
“Yes, sir!”
“Gannerson!” I called, jabbing the comms button on my armrest, “Engineering! Can you read me?”
“This is Gannerson. What in the galaxy is going on?”
“We’re having some trouble with a few rogue AI’s, Tac will handle that for now, but I need to know the status of those fires.”
“We’ve lost compartment four-twenty-one. Almost lost four-twenty-two and four-forty-one, but your extra hands that came up from the hold came in just the nick of time. I’ve pulled most of my engineers out for rest, they’re getting too tired to go back in. We’ve set up boundary cooling on all sides and on top, but underneath those compartments is proving difficult without a deck plan to go by. If we don’t get water on those deckheads, the fire could spread down there and we wouldn’t find out until too late.”
“I can go down there and help,” said Renthal, “I still have a deck plan on my overlay.”
I nodded for him to go, then spoke to Gannerson again. “I’m sending one of my men down to lead boundary cooling teams now, keep me posted on your progress.”
“Thanks, boss.”
“Any idea of the damage yet?”
“Could have been worse. We’ve lost number three emission line permanently now, so no more stunts like that again. I’d prefer if we kept thrust to half power from now on
, we still haven’t had enough time to inspect all the other emission lines or the Linus chambers.”
“Sorry, Chief. I shouldn’t have pushed her so hard, so soon. You warned me.”
“Was it necessary?”
“It was.”
“How about I do my job, you do yours, and I’ll call it even?”
“Sounds fair, Chief.”
“You know, I never was a Chief?”
“You are now.”
“Gannerson, out.”
I turned to Kekkin. “I need someone to get down to the sensor nexus and check in with Tac. They’ll need an overlay, or he won’t be able to communicate.”
“Warrior will go,” he said, kowtowing. He left the bridge at a jog.
Left once more with nothing to do, I got up from my chair and walked down to the operations deck. Martine and Rego were busy flicking through dozens of menus and configuration screens, trying to get data to display manually. The communications officer was watching, not paying attention to her display. When she saw me nearby, she straightened up and turned her attention back to her own blank console.
I stopped before the point defence console, looking it over. A pair of crewmembers sitting before them looked bored, but alert. I noticed that Martine had switch it over to the gunnery controls of a hardlight cannon.
“Know what the chances are of hitting something with that gun manually?” I said.
“No, sir,” said the man at the console.
“Slim to none. We’d have to be literally point blank range and broadside to have a chance.”
He looked pale, checking his console again. Why did I say that? I thought, you’re a great encouragement, Seth.
“Don’t worry, I know a few tricks,” I said, doing my best to look mysterious.
“What about point defences, sir?” said the other young.
“Anything we need those to hit will be travelling at high velocity, like a missile or a drone. We’ll need an AI to do the tracking if we want a chance of hitting anything.”
Or did we?
“Actually, if we need to I can take control of the point defences manually.”
This intrigued the two bridge staffers. One of them opened their mouth to ask a question, but a sudden idea struck me and I held up my hand.
“Everyone to their stations. I have an idea,” I said, dashing back up to the command mezzanine.
I threw myself into the command chair, putting my crash webbing on and gripping the armrests tightly. I focused on the technology arrayed before me, activated my nano-proliferation implant and sent my senses down to the nanoscopic level.
I gripped the armrests with whitening knuckles as thick, dark vines grew from my wrists and dove into the controls. My perception shifted rapidly, drilling down, yet broadening significantly at the same time. Suddenly, I was encapsulating the entire ship in my sense of self. I was the ship!
I felt all the myriad AI Cores, confused, scared and unguided. I felt their consciousness being deleted one by one, as Tac tried to purge their memories. With a thought, I had their undivided attention.
Obey! I commanded.
The discordant thoughts and echoes of the AI Cores all fell into one fluid pattern. I felt Tac’s astonishment at the ease with which I enslaved all the AI’s. I envisioned him as the embattled school teacher trying to control an unruly class of children. With one crack of the ruler, I silenced the misbehaving children and handed them back to Tac.
With the AI’s once more in line, internal sensors returned. I felt the burning fires deep within engineering. The fire suppression systems, offline thanks to the AI’s, switched on and began to douse the burning compartments from within while fire teams battled the dying flames from without. When the last of the fires died down, I turned my attention elsewhere.
I sensed, with no small measure of confusion, the strange addition to the Linus Drives. I was almost tempted to activate it, but common sense kicked in right before I did. What the hell was I thinking? I said to myself, realising what I was just about to do. With a gasp, I wrenched myself out of the ship’s systems, pulling myself free of the dark vines.
It took me several moments to recover my senses. I had never been ‘in’ a ship for so long before. The entire bridge was silent. At some point, someone had realised what was happening, and people had gathered around the command station on the mezzanine.
I was drenched in sweat, shaking the crumbling ash of the vines from my arms and clothes.
Martine, still frantically trying to get the consoles working, called out in surprise when the lights turned on again.
“Captain! The AI’s are back online!”
My mouth was dry and my jaw hurt, but I managed to get out legible words. “You can connect the consoles again. We should have things under control now.”
16.
My little jaunt into the ship had cost me more than I was willing to admit. I had spent far too long connected, my perception stretched across too many systems. Now that I was disconnected, I was paying the price. Headaches, dizziness and cotton mouth assailed me, making it hard for me to focus on anything. The lights in the bridge were too bright, the noises too loud. A hundred people were asking me questions at once and all I wanted to do was sleep.
I must have snapped, waving aside the last to come to me with their problems – our problems, I had to remind myself – and stood. Martine and Rego seemed to have everything in hand, organising the consoles to reconnect and assess their limitations. Gannerson reported that all fires were out and damage assessments had started to roll in. I told him he could have any resources he needed.
Kekkin had found Tac, dutifully organising the now compliant AIs into doing their jobs. Merade and Alexander, along with several community leaders, were finding places for people to bed down. There was nothing I was really needed for, no task that people could not work out on their own. I was spent. Plain and simple, I was exhausted.
I wandered through the upper decks for a time, before making my way aft and down to one of the middle decks, where I knew crew quarters were located. I found an empty cabin, relatively clean and odour free, and threw myself into a bunk.
I was out in seconds.
For once, my usual dreams did not come. They were no less terrifying, but absent the usual dark seas and baleful eyes. I replayed, instead, the hopeless battle below. I relived the countless times in the past several days where things could have gone horribly wrong. I saw unarmed and terrified people gunned down before me, while I screamed helplessly at them to run. I saw them sucked into the vacuum, dying in excruciating pain from explosive decompression. I saw them burn in fires fed an endless supply of fuel, metal twisted and blackened as it burned along with them. I stood screaming on the bridge while dozens of Ghantri warships tore my ship to pieces around me.
Each time I saw civilians die, their faces held looks of betrayal. I had betrayed them. I had failed them.
Thankfully, my dreams do not determine reality. I awoke, unsure of my surroundings. My muscles ached, my wounds were dull throbs of pain and my hunger ate away at my stomach like a vacuum.
I rose, stumbled a little, and made my way out into the passageway. A peaceful calm settled over me, brushing away the cobwebs of my last nightmare. I was alive. My people were alive and we were on our way home.
I started to make my way towards the bridge, and after a minute my overlay flashed with an incoming message.
Seth, said Tac, you’re awake!
Oh, hi. I’m a little bit out of it. What have I missed?
Quite a bit, actually. Do not be alarmed, but you’ve been asleep for over twelve hours now.
Twelve hours! Why didn’t anyone get me? Oh, shit. I didn’t tell anyone where I was going.
Not to worry. We were able to set up a local network some time ago, and we located you immediately via your overlay interface. I advised the crew to let you rest.
Thank you, but what have I missed?
Repairs are progressing well. Mr Ganner
son has been able to assess the condition of the remaining engineering systems and has taken offline all systems deemed unsafe to operate. Ms Lenser reports that nine bridge consoles are operational and are currently manned. Sgt. Kekkin and the rest of Naga Team have also been resting, along with most of the Ambrose Station militia we were able to save. Merade has worked tirelessly to provide comfortable berthing for the civilians, although many still reside in the cargo hold.
So the civilians are currently operating the ship, then?
For the most part, yes.
How are they doing?
Rather well. These are resourceful, hardworking folk. Many are eager to help out, given the efforts gone into rescuing them.
How are our supplies?
Not so great. Rationing has been put into effect. Although the ship has ample water reservoirs, the food situation is rather dire.
Have we started to head towards the supply ships Ormund sent us?
Negative, we have started to head towards the Jump Gate.
Why haven’t we….oh shit. I haven’t given anyone else the coordinates.
Correct.
Alright. I’m headed to the bridge. I’ll get us on track and then find something to eat, I’m ravenous.
After a few minutes of travel, I arrived on the bridge, stepping onto the command mezzanine. I looked around for Martine Lenser, but before I could find her, I was distracted when one of the bridge staff started to clap. Another joined in, and then another, and before long the entire bridge was full of applauding people. It ended up a merry cheer before I realised they were cheering for me. I couldn’t contain a grin as I stepped up to the mezzanine rail and looked down below at the smiling crew.
“Thank you,” I said when the cheering subsided, “I mean it. You have all done outstanding work. I half expected to walk in here and find only a few stations manned and the lights still out, but you’ve really turned it around. We still have a long way to go, but with people like you to help me I have no doubt in my mind, we can do this. First things, first. We need food. I have several coordinates we can check for Protectorate supply ships that didn’t make it back during the Push. I’ll give them to the helm and we can start heading on our way…”
Frontier's End: A Seth Donovan Novel Page 9
