by Terry Mixon
He looked at the tablet and sighed. “Confusing, but I’m to the point where I can no longer convince myself that everything I’ve read is faked. It’s too internally consistent, and yet inconsistent.”
Kelsey blinked. “I’m not sure I understand that.”
Richards smiled a little. “History, or anything for that matter, is never completely consistent when you go to different sources. There are always little differences of opinion or even errors. If these purported Old Empire history books and news summaries were fakes, I’d have expected them to be more uniform. Or to have a consistent kind of bias or error.
“To my chagrin, they appear authentic, even though they can’t be true. Whoever lied to you about the Old Empire did an amazing job. It makes me question if parts of the history I know are wrong.”
“You seem to know a lot about history for a computer guy.”
“It’s a hobby. This puts me in a moral quandary. I now believe that you think you’re doing the right thing. You’re wrong, but that’s only because someone misled you. I’m convinced you utterly believe the lies they’ve told you about the rebellion. It’s my duty to see if I can make you see the error of your ways.”
She allowed herself a smile. “Oddly enough, I feel that same duty. Can you explain why all of this supposedly faked data was on an abandoned ship? One built before the rebellion and crewed by people who knew the situation better than either of us? They had the means to commit mass suicide so your ancestors didn’t capture them. And they used it. That’s hard to get around.”
“I believe that the emperor and his corrupt ruling class must’ve been pulling the wool over everyone’s eyes long before the rebellion started. They would’ve had no trouble falsely portraying the rebellion. They controlled every information channel.”
“Or the AIs you serve edited the history you were taught long before you were born. Consider your own reaction when we captured you. The way they programmed your implants to attack at all costs. Doesn’t that speak of some subterfuge on the part of the AIs?”
His eyes narrowed. “I’m not ready to discuss the AIs and how they work inside our society.”
Kelsey smiled. “If you say so. I have some data from the AI that captured Erorsi that indicates what they were like.”
“That thing was mad. A ship’s AI isn’t really intelligent and its conflicting programming instructions eventually turned it into a thing of horror. I’ve heard about some of the atrocities it perpetrated. It exterminated billions of people. Horrible. It should have been stopped.”
“I can’t disagree with any of that. Why didn’t you?”
He took a deep breath. “The damage was done long before I was born. Fleet Command decided at the time it was best to leave well enough alone. The Empire contracted after the rebellion. Once we get back out to this area, we would have dealt with the thing. And the monsters it left behind.”
“Yet you continued to supply it with the very equipment it needed to do its dirty work. The proof is inside me. You took children as payment. And your ship attacked ours without provocation. You killed thousands of Fleet personnel. It’s a little late to be the wronged party.”
“The children are resettled and rehabilitated. It’s the only way we can save any of those poor people. I have no idea what you did to spark the attack, but you must’ve done something. The captain wouldn’t have done so unilaterally.”
There was still a lot of denial going on, she decided. Time to give him more information and let him stew.
She stood. “Well, I don’t want to argue over things you haven’t even seen. I’m going to release the AI code from the battlecruiser on Erorsi to you for your viewing pleasure. On a disconnected tablet, of course. We can’t take any risk of the code getting onto our primary systems. You can tell me if it’s the smoking gun that I think it is, or you can try to convince me that I’m wrong.”
He rose to his feet and bowed his head slightly. “Thank you. I’ll be happy to point out where your analysis is wrong. I’m an expert at this sort of thing, whereas your people might not know the intricacies of Imperial programming.”
“I look forward to that conversation.”
She left the brig area and headed for the bridge. This was going better than she’d expected. The man’s reasonable nature was going to make for some very uncomfortable reading on his part over the next few days.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Jared listened to Kelsey’s report on her conversation with the senior prisoner with interest. The captured man seemed to be opening up, but it could all be a sham.
“If it was me, I’d say the same sorts of things,” he said. “Get my captors to lower their guard.”
“I get that, but I still think this might be genuine. Remember how Courageous was able to tell I was being truthful about our story when we first met? He can check any change of heart the man might have, if he’s serious.”
Jared acknowledged that with a nod. “True. His implants might be his Achilles heel, if he wants to trick us. That’s low on my priority list, though. We need to get our people back.”
He turned his attention to his own problem. The ships they were trailing had reached Boxer Station. The destroyers had peeled off and moved into parking orbits. The capture ship docked, which likely meant that they were transferring any prisoners into the base.
Once the probe’s scouting mission was complete, then came the boarding. Marine teams had to rescue the prisoners and board Spear. They had to destroy any intact computer equipment. Preferably, they would destroy the ship. That would damage the station, too.
Honestly, the odds of complete success were so low that he had to discount them. A betting man would’ve turned around and headed for home.
The lift doors opened and Doctor Cartwright walked onto the bridge. “Captain, Highness, I think we’ve found something that might prove useful.”
Jared gestured for the older man to continue. “Any good news would be most welcome. What have you got?”
“Carl and I have completed our examination of the combat platform, including its computer code. They have their own version of an Identify Friend or Foe system to mark friendly troops. We’ve managed to create a small responder that a marine can hang on the outside of his or her armor that will render the platform unable to fire at them. Even if they were to start shooting at the platform.”
Jared felt a weight lift from his shoulders. “That doesn’t solve all my problems, but I’ll take it. How many can you build in a few hours?”
“Enough for about a hundred marines. If we can get some assistance from Commander Baxter and his engineering team, that number doubles.”
“You’ll have it. Unfortunately, that isn’t any good against the stunners used in anti-boarding weapons. I’m still working on a plan for that.”
Kelsey blinked. “We solved that problem a few weeks ago. The marines added grounding wires to their combat armor that should protect them from being stunned. At least it worked when I shot Talbot.”
He hadn’t heard that good news. “How did you figure that out? And can it be used by people not in armor?”
The elderly scientist made an ambivalent gesture with his hands. “Perhaps a vacuum suit could be protected, but not anything less. The fine mesh needs to be properly spaced to work. As to how, we examined what was used in the commando armor and used the time tested experimentation method until we had something that worked.”
“Doctor, you’ve given us a fighting chance. Well done. Please pass that on to your people, too.”
Once the scientist had left, Jared returned his attention to the probe coasting toward Boxer Station. They’d identified a dozen ships under power ahead, but there might be significantly more just coasting along. One burst on active scanners would give them a complete picture of the area, but it would also give them away. So, the only ships he’d identified were ones that changed their orbits under power.
The best guess thus far was that all the ships they’d det
ected were destroyers. A dozen destroyers could swarm Courageous, so that wasn’t a threat he was willing to dismiss. Even a fully armed battlecruiser couldn’t handle so many smaller ships.
“Captain, we’re starting to detect more vessels on passive scanners through the probe,” Zia said. “They also appear to be in parking orbits, though much further out than the destroyers.”
He tapped into the raw feed. The new contacts were marked as unknown types because the passive scanners couldn’t determine sizes without either grav drive signatures or getting closer.
He’d made the determination not to get any closer than he had to with the probe, but he needed a better count on how many ships they might be facing. He allowed one pinpoint pulse of instructions to the probe. No ship reacted, so they hadn’t detected the communication. Thank God.
The probe ghosted in toward the new vessels and the count climbed from a handful to dozens. Then over a hundred. And that was only in this small area. There might be thousands of other ships spaced further around the station.
The details of the ships slowly emerged. There were several sizes, so not just destroyers. What he wasn’t detecting was operational fusion plants. Perhaps these were mothballed ships. Placed into holding orbits and shut down. They’d reactivate them if they needed the firepower later.
He prayed and sent the probe in even closer. Definitely no active fusion plants. Those ships were cold. The AIs wouldn’t be on. That was a huge relief.
The probe eased close enough to peg one ship as a battlecruiser. They tentatively identified the ships around it as battlecruisers as well. A dozen of them floated in a loose formation.
“Captain, look at this visual,” Zia said.
He switched from the scanner data to purely optical. The probe was close enough to see the ships, though some of the details were fuzzy. He could see that the ship Zia had focused on had significant battle damage.
A slow examination of the other vessels revealed they all had varying degrees of damage. There were no indications of attempts at repair. Most of these ships were open to space.
Jared looked over at Kelsey. “They look like they’ve been parked there since the rebellion. We need to check, but I think these are salvaged ships.”
She nodded slowly. “If we could sneak into one of these battlecruisers, we might be able to top off our magazines. A full load of missiles might make the difference between success and failure on this mission, if we have to shoot our way out.”
“Good idea. That just became priority one. Gather a team of engineering and tactical personnel to oversee that. We’ll slip in and try to reload. If we can’t manage that without the enemy detecting us, we’d never have gotten to the station anyway.”
“Should we try to recover any of the ship’s computer data?”
“If you can do it without delaying the missile recovery.”
“I’ll get Talbot and my team to accompany us. Carl Owlet, too.” She left the bridge in a hurry.
He hoped he hadn’t made a mistake in sending her, but she had implants. That might make the difference between success and failure. As long as they were careful, the ships were far enough away from Boxer Station that the cutters should be able to slip in undetected if they crept along.
He moved the probe close enough to get a good visual on the nearest battlecruiser. “Scott Pond. It looks like she put up one hell of a fight.”
“Not that it did her much good,” Graves said from the seat at the back of the bridge that he’d commandeered when Kelsey had arrived earlier. “Do you think it was converted to be used by an AI?”
“Why bother? Without repairs, that ship won’t be much use in combat. I wager we’ll find a bunch of ships like her. This is a graveyard. Fleet’s graveyard.” He turned his attention to his tactical officer. “How is this going to work, Zia?”
She double-checked her console before turning to face him. “The magazines have lifts that go right out to the hull. Once the princess finds some that are clear, she can move a couple of missiles at a time. The cutters are all equipped with external power couplings now. We learned our lesson in salvaging Courageous. The cutters have external racks we can use to transport the missiles to us. It’s a surprisingly quick procedure.
“The missiles won’t take long to get into service. We learned a lot about refurbishing them and we have a good supply of replacement parts. We can probably rearm in about six hours, if we use all the Old Empire cutters.”
He sighed. “I don’t like leaving our people in their hands that long, but it makes no sense to rush in. If we can speed the process, do it. Draft every cutter we have.”
“I’m already factoring them in, Captain. If you want a partial load, we can cut some time.”
“Go for the full load. We may never get another chance.”
* * * * *
Jared waited on pins and needles as Kelsey’s people boarded Scott Pond. The ship was cold and dead. Bodies filled her corridors. The AIs hadn’t even bothered cleaning up after they killed her. Well, after her captain had vented her to space, to be fair. That probably meant the rebels had brought many of these ships from wherever they’d died. Courageous could very easily have ended up here in this field of tombs.
He ordered the probe to continue circling around, getting a rough count of ships. There were thousands of hulls. Perhaps tens of thousands. Most were destroyers, with proportionally fewer light cruisers, heavy cruisers, and battlecruisers. All seemed to be captured in battle.
Weary of the litany of crippled Fleet vessels, he turned his attention to the resupply efforts. The cutters were making their way slowly between Scott Pond and Courageous. They’d be able to rearm about a third of their missiles from the crippled battlecruiser. Then they’d need to move on to another one. Scott Pond had shot most of her weapons before the rebels overwhelmed her.
“Sir, I think you’ll want to see this,” Zia said.
He lifted his eyes to the main screen. A ship was growing slowly closer as the probe closed with it. The shape was not immediately familiar to him. Jared compared it to the Imperial database. The results made him blink. It was a Holyfield class superdreadnaught.
Jared was shocked that one of these monsters had survived even as a hulk. They no doubt took a lot of killing.
His confusion grew stronger as the probe’s readings became clearer. “Zia, do you see any signs of battle damage?”
She examined her console closely. “Not at this range, Captain. I’ll keep looking as the probe gets closer.”
The probe edged slowly toward the massive warship and Jared saw no signs of damage at all. It looked pristine from the outside. The nose had the ships name in white letters. Invincible.
Records listed the ship as destroyed in battle with a replacement under construction. It looked like this ship had never made it back into the fight. He wondered how far the build process had gotten before the rebels seized her from her construction bay.
If she was even partially complete, there might be something worth recovering. Perhaps she had an implantation machine and implant hardware. If any mobile ship had such equipment, it would be something like this. That would help his crewing situation immeasurably.
He made a snap decision and opened a channel to Lieutenant Reese. “Get one of the pinnaces ready. We’re going to scout one of the wrecks for critical supplies. Get some of Baxter’s people to come along in case we need engineering expertise.”
The marine officer frowned. “We’re configured for an immediate rescue launch. If we’re out of position, that might cost us a lot of time should the need arise.”
“I understand. This might be very important. We won’t be launching the raid for at least five more hours. We have time for this. I’ll be down in a minute.”
“You’re leaving the ship? Sir, that’s a bad idea.”
“We might need my implants. See you in a minute.”
He turned his attention to Graves. “Keep things moving and let me know at once via tight
beam if anything changes.”
“Aye, sir. And for the record, I want to be the next in line for implants.”
“Done. You and Reese go to the head of the line.”
He turned his attention to his implants. Courageous, do you think that ship might have implanting hardware?
Those vessels were not so equipped in the past. Boxer Station, on the other hand, may very well have exactly what you’re looking for.
One more thing to send a team after, if we can. Still, we have the time and I want to see if someone stashed what we need on that ship.
As you wish, Captain.
Jared made his way down to marine country and armored up. Invincible was no doubt as cold as Courageous had been when they found her.
The flight over was exceptionally slow. They didn’t want more than a touch of grav drive because one the ships or Boxer Station might detect them.
All the marine docks had pinnaces, so the pilot took them around to the cutter docks. Cutters took up all of them. One was of an unfamiliar design. It might even have been civilian.
“We’ll have to use one of the personnel locks to get in, Reese said. The one back at marine country will give us quicker access.”
The pinnace latched to the ship’s hull. Unlike when they’d boarded Courageous, this ship didn’t have much spin. The stars burned brightly all around them as they marched down the hull to the marine lock.
Reese opened the cover and tapped in a code. To Jared’s surprise, the hatch slid aside.
“Are those powered by emergency supplies like the rescue hatches?”
“Yes, sir. All the major external hatches are. I used the emergency boarding code to open it. It’s still set to the Old Empire standard.”
A squad of marines went in first. Only once they reported the area clear did Reese and Jared make their way inside. Jared immediately noticed something was wrong. Or right where it shouldn’t have been. The ship had gravity. He checked his environmental readings. It had habitable temperatures and a breathable atmosphere, too. Even the lights were on.
