The Phoenix Conspiracy

by Richard L. Sanders

  "I'll give you a few minutes to see if you can come up with any ideas. We should at least try something."

  "Okay, okay, let me think." Shen sat on his bed and tried to imagine the setup of the computer systems on the station. He'd never been to Brimm but the typical situation was pretty standard. Intranet with an external hookup to the Empire-Wide-Network, he knew roughly how it was served, the capabilities of the mainframe, and what kind of software kept it all together. He combined that with his Intel Agent training, more or less how to lie to people and sometimes shoot them, and this gave him his best idea. Which still wasn't very good.

  "OK, Calvin," he said. "Here's what I'm thinking, if I can get onto one of their computers, which should be no problem, I think I can run a program I wrote using whatever basic user account they have logged in by default. I can't promise this, but I think I can move it over and execute it with just basic permissions. It, in turn, can take advantage of the fact that the intranet is probably..."

  "Shen, can you just give me the simple version."

  "OK," he thought for a second. "Basically I can artificially generate all these requests by remotely telling all the computers on the network to start demanding lots of information from the server which will get overwhelmed and crash the system."

  "So... you'll crash the system." Calvin didn't sound like he understood, and Shen wasn't about to explain it again.

  "Yes," he said. "I'll make a problem for them. Their staff can fix it, but it may take them a few minutes to figure out what is happening. My hope is that I can pose as a technician, babble off some tech jargon, and get some stupid administrator to log me in to help fix it."

  "I get the picture," said Calvin. "But if you crash their system how will you be able to use it to get what we need?"

  "I can disable my own program—if they don't find it first and wipe it out, and then everything will work fine again. I'll do a system-wide search and download all the data. Hopefully they won't notice this. And I'll be sure to cover my steps on my way out."

  "Sounds like a plan. I'll send a message to the quartermaster to send some base-standard technician clothes your way. We'll get you a fake ID too with bogus but convincing credentials. In the meantime you get what you need ready."

  "Will do." The comm clicked off and Shen went to his computer to copy over the software he'd need. It still felt like a longshot, but that's what made it fun, he supposed.

  And who knows, maybe there'd be a flower-shop on the station.

  ***

  Calvin spent the next several minutes arguing with various station controllers. For some reason the Commodore and his direct underlings had been evasive about talking to Calvin a second time, but as he continued to request—no, demand—clearance to dock with the station, by invoking Fleet bylaws, he eventually found the Commodore's face again staring back at him from the other side of his comm display.

  "It's nothing personal, Lieutenant Commander," the Commodore said. "But our bays are shutdown pending further investigation of the Harbinger attack and any ships coming to dock are considered a security risk by definition. We're only following protocol."

  Calvin doubted it was as simple as that. "Yes, protocol," he said. "Thank you, that's just the word I was fishing for. You see, my ship is having some electrical systems failures and we have to put in for repairs."

  "That sounds like the sort of thing you can handle on your own. Don’t you have an engineering staff and a standard set of replacement parts?"

  "I do," Calvin admitted. "But in order to expedite our hunt for the Harbinger this repair could be done twice as fast using your resources, especially your computer scanners and calibrators." Calvin didn't know what that meant exactly but Andre had told him to say it.

  "I wish I could help you."

  "Oh and did I mention we are low on fuel cells? Current estimate says we couldn't initiate an alteredspace jump of more than forty-five percent potential. At that rate we'd get to Iota several days too late. And all because you wouldn't restock our fuel, which, by the way, you're required to do. Do you really want to be responsible for that kind of delay? Especially when both Intel Wing and Fleet Command have a vested interest in this?"

  "Is that a threat?"

  "Let me put it to you this way," Calvin leaned forward in his chair. "I hear the Koshi Mining Belt isn’t such a bad place to govern this time of year, it's almost summer. But you’d still need a full climate suit to go outside."

  The Commodore's face twisted into a frown. "I don't like your attitude, Mister Cross. But if your ship is in such dire need of supplies I will authorize you to dock next to our support bay. However, your men are confined to your ship."

  "I'll need two men to deliver reports and coordinate with your staff face-to-face, not to mention oversee the movement of cargo."

  "Very well but only one man, not two."

  Calvin smiled. "See, you're not so unreasonable after all."

  ***

  Shen felt a little like a clown in the IT support uniform of Brimm Station. He wore a tie that felt too tight, slacks that were a little long, and they made him comb his hair and part it. Regulation, apparently. Something he'd never do of his own free will. He felt a renewed wave of gratitude for Calvin’s relaxed policies on the Nighthawk.

  His fake ID was clipped onto his button-up shirt. "Sukati Yoshimo, Support Staff Technician."

  After he checked in with Andre and picked up a datapad with reports on the ship's systems, which had mysteriously started to fail, he made his way through the narrow corridors and elevator to the auxiliary hatch. As he passed some crew quarters he caught Sarah coming out of her room. His heart skipped a beat and he stopped in his tracks.

  Her hair was loosely held up by a rubber band and she wore simple, casual clothes instead of her uniform. It made sense since she wasn't on duty for several more hours, but also made her all the more eye-catching.

  "Hey there," she said with a smile. Her eyes seemed to twinkle.

  "Hi." He didn't know what to say and just smiled.

  "You're looking good," she eyed his bogus IT uniform and didn't keep back a wry, teasing smile. He felt embarrassed.

  "Long story..." He said. "Special assignment."

  "Ah." She nodded.

  He just stood there.

  "Well... nice talking to you," she said. Only then did he realize he was in her way. He darted aside fast enough it was almost a jump, and a clumsy one at that.

  "Oh sorry," he said.

  She laughed and shook her head. "See ya later, Shen," and she walked away down the corridor to wherever she was going. He kept his eyes from following her and instead jumped into a brisk walk in the opposite direction.

  "Stupid," he mumbled to himself. Wondering why he could still feel uncomfortable around someone he knew so well. Like he just couldn't be himself. His friends always told him that was the best advice: just relax and be natural. But somehow he got all tense and nervous around women he liked, and it seemed no matter what age he was, that would always be the case.

  As arranged, a junior engineer met him at the hatch. She would be the liaison to the station's engineering team. Shen handed her the datapad with the ship's reports. She saluted and went ahead through the jetway and into Brimm's support bay. A moment later she came back and announced the coast was clear.

  "Good." He felt anxious again as he hustled through the jetway, down the ladder, and onto the support bay floor of the station. Once he made good distance from the ship he slowed down and tried to act naturally. He knew if he stared at random things and looked busy nobody would bother him. The only thing he couldn't quiet was his thumping heart, but if someone heard that he had much bigger problems—of a medical nature.

  He wiped a little forehead sweat onto his sleeve and strolled out of the bay toward where he expected the main access computers to be. Just before he reached the exit, someone intercepted him.

  "You there," an engineer said waving at him. Shen swallowed, his mouth dry.


  "Yes?” he asked weakly.

  "Can you toss me that clipboard?"

  On the table to his right was a set of notes attached to an old-fashioned clipboard. He felt a sigh of relief as he picked it up and tossed them to the engineer. There was less than two meters distance between them but somehow the paperwork managed to take a nosedive before reaching the engineer's outstretched hands. As the man bent over to scoop it up, Shen slipped out the door and walked into the main concourse, perhaps a bit faster than normal.

  "Kiosk... kiosk..." he whispered as he looked around. The wide open space was surprisingly empty, but then he remembered how late it was according to Local Time.

  It didn't take long to find a proper computer terminal. It was more exposed than he would have liked and he positioned his body to hide what he was doing as best he could. He hastily copied over his program and executed it.

  In no time it was putting a strain on the local server and he pulled out his drive and hustled away. It would take Brimm’s technicians at least a few minutes to figure out their new problem was rooted to this location, since by now his program had infected every other system on the intranet.

  He wandered away into an even more open cross-section where he correctly guessed he'd find a map of this deck. It wasn't quite as specific as he would have liked, but he was able to pick out a small room that was a pretty good candidate for being the office of a local administrator—its proximity to some computer labs was the clue. Before he made his way there, however, he spotted a row on the bottom of the map advertising several small shops and novelty stores. One of them was a boutique.

  He thought of Sarah and realized—after he’d completed his mission—he could easily walk there and buy her some flowers. It wasn't too far away at all, and she'd love them, wouldn't she? But the more he thought of it, the more his feet felt glued to the floor. He could do it. Nothing was really stopping him. He could even give them to her anonymously if that's what it took; then take credit for them later.

  "Who am I kidding?" he whispered. Somehow the thought of giving flowers to Sarah, or anyone, just felt ridiculous. He just didn't think women could take him seriously. And then he'd look like a fool. And things would be all awkward after that. No, Shen, he thought to himself, that just won't do.

  He made his way to the small office and, finding the door open, walked inside.

  "What can I do for you?" A man asked from behind a bushy moustache. He wore the blue-and-black uniform of the navy and had a very pointed angular face.

  "I'm here to service your computer," said Shen; he unclipped his ID, handed it to the man, and continued. "IT Technician from deck sixteen, we're having some trouble with the servers and we've isolated the problem to this deck."

  The officer looked back and forth from Shen to the ID, seeming almost skeptical, and just as Shen felt the impulse to run—thinking his cover was blown, the officer handed it back to him with an approving nod. "Good. I’ve been having trouble getting onto the network—started a few minutes ago. Keeps thinking and thinking and never goes anywhere. Something’s broken."

  Shen nodded. "I need to have your computer run a few programs to secure it from the virus." He knew throwing out the V-word would spook the guy since he, like most people, probably had no understanding of what a computer virus actually was, and probably believed its power was akin to a wrathful deity.

  "Why my computer?" the officer asked. "Why can’t you just make it work? I mean, I didn't do anything funny on my computer to mess up your servers."

  "I know you didn't," said Shen. "But your computer is at risk. I’ll need to run some defensive software to protect your data," he held up his drive and forced a smile.

  The man frowned for a minute and once again Shen felt his heart race and tiny beads of sweat form on his forehead, but eventually the officer seemed to agree that this made sense. "All right," he waved Shen forward and stepped out of the way.

  Shen plugged his drive into the computer and discovered it wasn't logged in. "I need you to log into your account, sir."

  "I thought you technicians had full computer access," the man said, his tone suspicious.

  Of course, Shen knew, the technicians probably did. Too bad he wasn't really one of them, otherwise he could log in as a basic administrator and this operation would be easy as pie. Fortunately, though, he was pretty sure this particular officer, despite being stationed near computer labs, knew very little of actual computing. Shen swallowed hard and came up with some more baloney.

  "In order to protect your information I need to be logged into your account. I don't have your log in information specifically. So please, if you don't mind," he waved toward the key prompt, "the longer we wait the more danger your stuff is in."

  The officer didn't take the time to think this over. The urgency in Shen's voice—made believable by his own anxiety, was convincing enough. Shen soon found himself perusing the local Network. His sabotage program had been discovered and wiped out and the server was working fine. Of course, the officer hovering over his shoulder didn't know that. And, even though it’d been purged, it would still do the job of hiding his tracks once the technicians did a proper restore. With luck, no one should notice that any data was copied.

  Shen did a search based on a few simple parameters. The most useful mechanism for this was to check everything for its time stamp and access-modification dates. Everything that seemed to plausibly fit in the Harbinger's window of time, when they'd boarded the station, Shen copied over. It took awhile and as he sat waiting for the data to upload, he felt even more nervous. The image of soldiers or actual technicians scouring the corridors trying to find the saboteur who'd knocked out their servers frightened him. Seeing Shen sitting here would flag the right people's attention if they were looking.

  "Do you mind shutting the door?" asked Shen. "I'm a little cold and that vent is giving me goosebumps." He was lucky that a significant amount of cool air was flowing through a large vent just outside the office.

  "All right," the officer said and he closed the door. Shen figured that bought him a little more time.

  As the last of the data copied over, he checked the maintenance logs to see what the Nighthawk's status was. It had been refueled but wasn't cleared for departure yet even though the engineering liaison had returned to the ship. Apparently the Chief Engineer of the Nighthawk wasn't yet satisfied the ship’s systems had all the kinks worked out yet. No doubt Calvin was having Andre keep making bad reports until Shen was back aboard.

  The computer beeped as the data finished moving over. Shen ejected the drive and put it in his pocket. "Well it looks like we saved your data, and now your computer is secure," he saluted, put on a fake smile, and walked out.

  "Thanks," the officer called behind him.

  "Don't mention it."

  When he knew he was out of sight he sped up, carefully ducking to the side when he passed others in the main corridors. No one seemed to be overly alert, or looking for him. But he still didn't stop until he was back in the support bay. As he approache6d the Nighthawk, which was still connected to the bay via a jetway, someone called out to him.

  "You there, technician, what are you doing next to that ship?"

  Shen couldn't think on his feet quite as well as he would have liked. "I don't know," he said, feeling his face get warm.

  "What do you mean you don't know?"

  Shen felt the urge to sprint onto the ship and not look back, but he knew that was foolish. Instead he faced the man down. "I mean, I don't know why but I have orders from deck 16 to deliver this report to the ship's liaison." He held up his drive.

  "Oh okay," the engineer said. "But the Nighthawk's liaison has already boarded the ship."

  Shen knew this already. "Then I'll have to go aboard."

  "Do you have clearance for that?"

  "If I don't, I'm sure their security will turn me away. But I have to at least try to follow my orders." He stepped into the jetway leading to the ship's hatch and felt an
enormous wave of relief.

  ***

  When Shen's message came to the bridge, Calvin happened to be there. His eyes were burning and the long wait had relaxed him to a very bored, almost deliriously tired state. But he managed to shake himself awake.

  "Did your mission succeed?" He asked.

  "Affirmative, I'm back aboard. Where do you want me to send this data? There's an awful lot of it."

  "Send it to the lab," said Calvin. "And get some rest. There's more than enough there to keep several people busy analyzing it for hours if not days, and I want you to keep focused on your other assignments. Especially your investigation into the ships Raidan destroyed, including this latest casualty."

  "Will do. And I'm not very tired so I'll get back to it right away."

  "Fine with me," said Calvin. "Just make sure you're nice and alert for White Shift in..." he glanced at the clock. "Eleven hours."

  "Yes sir," said Shen and the communication ended.

  "So what was that about?" asked Rose.

  Calvin smirked. "It looks like we got our hands on the data the Harbinger stole, after all. That should give us some clues about what it's up to, I hope."

  "I just hope we don't take any fallout for this."

  "Shen's very good; I'm guessing Brimm One will never even know." Calvin stood up. "When we're given clearance, detach us from this base and get us heading toward Iota at a good speed. Once on our way, contact them and ask the status of their defenses. The Harbinger should be arriving before long and you’d better send them a warning in case Brimm didn’t."

  "Aye, sir."

  "If you need me, I'll be in my quarters trying to sleep."

  Calvin left. He thought of the first time he'd turned his bridge over to the command of less experienced officers and how hard that had been. And he hadn't slept well as he imagined them at the controls making choices that could mean life or death for him as he lay powerless below. But over time, he'd gotten past that paranoia and knew that a fresh crew, no matter how green, was better than a seasoned one that'd been pushed to exhaustion.