Renegade Fleet

by J. N. Chaney

  “You can’t do it?” I asked, tilting my head.

  “There are too many recruits waiting for their orientation. I need to stay here and work with the next group.”

  “They’re already solid with basic maneuvers?” I asked. “That didn’t take long.”

  “A few days, yes,” he answered. “It was the same with Karin. The colonists seem to adapt quickly to the technology. It’s a good problem to have, but we need another instructor for the next phase of their training.”

  I weighed a few names. Abigail. Bolin. Octavia. All of them had a good handle on the strike ships up to this point. Karin was adapting quickly, too. Still, I couldn’t give up a member of my team. “Let me think about it,” I said, after a moment. “I’ll give you a name tomorrow.”

  He nodded. “I’ll be here.”

  I yawned. “Sounds good, Al.” I felt a weight on my eyes, suddenly, like the adrenaline had finally subsided and my body was ready to sleep. How long had I gone without resting today? Twenty-five hours? Twenty-seven? It was hard to keep track.

  “Sir,” a voice said in my ear.

  “What is it, Siggy?” I asked, walking through the cargo bay and into a nearby corridor.

  “This is a meal reminder, per Ms. Pryar’s request,” he informed.

  “A what?” I asked.

  “A meal reminder, sir. According to Ms. Pryar, you have missed several meals during your work hours. She has expressed some concern over your health.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Tell Abby I can remember to feed myself, godsdammit. I don’t need you to—”

  A set of double doors slid open in front of me, revealing a familiar albino woman on the other side, a soft glow around her. “Captain, do you have a moment?” asked Athena.

  “What is it?” I asked. “And why the hell are you popping up in front of me?”

  “Your communicator was occupied,” she answered.

  “Blame Siggy for that. What do you need?”

  “Your presence is requested on the bridge. We are preparing to exit slipspace in approximately ten minutes.”

  “I’ll be there in a few,” I said, turning back around the way I came.

  Athena blinked out of existence, leaving me alone in the corridor.

  “Sorry, Siggy. Looks like I’ll have to miss that meal,” I said, heading through the nearby door, back into the landing bay. “Seems I still got shit to do.”

  “A pity, sir,” said the A.I.

  I sighed. “You’re telling me.”

  * * *

  I wasn’t the only one Athena had called to the bridge. Abigail had already beaten me to it. “It’s about time,” she said, giving me a smirk.

  “What’s the story?” I asked, the second the door closed behind me.

  Athena was standing against the far wall. “Greetings, Captain. Now that you are both here, shall I proceed?”

  “With what, exactly?” I asked.

  “A brief update on our current destination,” she explained.

  “You mean Earth?” asked Abby.

  The Cognitive smiled. “Precisely.” She flicked her wrist, changing the wall behind her to show the galaxy, zoomed out. A small group of stars blinked, changing from yellow to red.

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “Earth’s defense network and inner colonies,” she said, and suddenly the screen magnified so that only a small cluster of stars appeared. “Our current position is marked here,” she explained, indicating to the edge of the map, not far from the nearest system.

  “Which one is Earth?” asked Abby.

  Athena flicked her wrist. One of the centermost lights blinked. “Just here.”

  “Does this mean we’re nearly there?” asked Abby.

  The Cognitive nodded. “Yes, indeed, Ms. Pryar. However, this is not the reason I requested your presence.”

  “Good,” I said. “I was wondering what part of this was important. Let’s get on with it so I can get some shut-eye.”

  “Of course, Captain,” said Athena. “Earth’s territory is vast, expanding across dozens of systems. As such, certain measures were taken to prevent any aggressive actions by space-faring colonists or ill-intended Transients.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” I asked.

  “To put it simply,” explained Athena. “Earth saw fit to create a defense network, whose purpose would be to protect its borders and secure its territory. This was done alongside the great Transient Exodus. As you may recall, the Transients—your ancestors—embarked across the stars in search of new worlds. Knowing that their descendants may wish to return, the Eternals of Earth chose to create certain security protocols to ensure their own safety.”

  “So what?” I asked. “What are we talking about here? What kind of security? Turrets? Ships? Space stations?”

  “All of that and more, I’m afraid,” she answered. “At the height of their power, the Eternals had no less than ten thousand defensive drones strategically positioned around their territory.”

  “How powerful?” asked Abby.

  “Their weapons were similar to our strike ships,” said the Cognitive.

  “Damn,” I muttered. “Good thing it’s been two thousand years. There’s no way their ships are still active.”

  “On the contrary,” she said, “the drones remain in low power mode within close proximity to nearby stars. Like Titan, they have the ability to absorb solar energy, storing it for later usage.”

  “Have you tried signaling the defense network? Isn’t there some way to tell it you’re not the enemy?” asked Abigail.

  The Cognitive nodded. “Indeed. Ever since your acquisition of the Tritium Core, I have made several attempts to contact the Cognitive overseer in charge of the network. However, to date, I have received no response. It seems likely that he has gone offline.” She turned back to the display, changing it to show what appeared to be some kind of space station. “This is Abaddon One, the nearest node in a series of docking stations along the border. Its sole purpose is to receive incoming vessels and grant authorization. We will need to board the facility and manually reactivate the system. Not doing so would flag Titan as an illegal threat, alerting the drones to our location.”

  “That doesn’t sound too hard,” said Abby.

  “It’s better than stealing a Tritium Core from an underground Union base,” I admitted.

  She snickered. “Or trudging through a frozen planet with a bunch of Boneclaws.”

  I nodded. “That, too.”

  “Do I have your authorization to proceed, Captain?” asked the Cognitive.

  I looked back at her. “Sounds like we don’t have much of a choice.”

  “That is correct,” she said.

  “Then, I guess you have my permission.”

  Abigail walked up to the screen, examining the space station. “How long do we have before we get there?”

  “Approximately one week,” said Athena.

  “That long, huh?” I asked, shooting a quick glance to Abigail. “Think that’s enough time?”

  “Enough for what?” she asked.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” I asked, stepping beside her and looking up at the screen. “To get our people ready.”

  * * *

  Abby and I started to leave when Athena called after me. “Captain, if you wouldn’t mind, there is something else I would like to discuss.”

  I turned back. “Oh? You got some news?”

  “What’s wrong?” asked Abby.

  “It pertains to a data recovery process,” explained Athena. “Shall I explain the details?”

  Abby looked at me. “I need to pick Lex up from school. Think you can fill me in on this later?”

  I nodded. “Will do. It shouldn’t take long. Meet you on The Star in an hour?”

  “Don’t take too long or I’ll get bored,” she said, giving me a wink. “I know you don’t want that.”

  I smirked. “Definitely not.”

  She smiled, then turned to the corrid
or. “Later, Renegade.”

  I watched her leave, rounding the corner and disappearing towards the lift.

  “So,” I began, looking back at Athena, “got anything for me?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do,” said the Cognitive. She flicked her wrist, bringing up another image. It was a database of files with multiple layers of information, divided into sub-directories. Most were marked in red, suggesting they were either missing or corrupt. That was my guess, anyway. I was never very good with this stuff.

  “Is this him?” I asked, staring at the screen.

  “What little I managed to recover, yes,” she confirmed. “Only a fraction of his processes were transferred before the facility was destroyed. What you see before you is all that remains.”

  “You mean after three weeks, this is all you could get?” There was so much red, I could hardly believe it. “Just cut to the end and tell me the prognosis. Is it possible to save him with this?”

  “I’m afraid not,” she said, plainly. “The core memories are completely lost. Only the shell of his code remains.”

  “Memories?” I asked.

  “Cognitives, like humans, are shaped from their inception by a collection of memories and experiences. Without those, everything that makes them who they are is lost. Janus had been active for two millennia, gaining experiences and growing as an individual. Without those memories, he is lost.”

  I cursed beneath my breath. When Athena told me a few weeks ago that she had attempted to recover Janus’s matrix, I let myself believe he might return. As it turned out, it was all for nothing. “You said something about a shell. What does that mean?”

  “To simplify it,” she began, “Cognitives are comprised of two distinct parts—their mind, which we refer to as the cognition, and the functional shell. Think of this dynamic as you would a human being’s mind and body. Either could exist without the other, given the right circumstances, but both are required to create a fully-functional being. In this case, a Cognitive like Janus or myself. What you see before you is largely the shell.”

  The last bit caused me to straighten. “Are you saying his entire mind is wiped?”

  “In a sense, yes,” she confirmed. “Without his memories, Janus is merely a blank shell, devoid of any personality. It would be like having the brain without the mind.”

  “In other words,” I said, “he really is gone.”

  “I’m afraid so,” she said.

  “Then all of this was for nothing. Just a waste of your time.”

  “Perhaps,” she said, glancing up at the image. “But I’ll store the shell for now.”

  “Why?” I asked. “You said it yourself. He’s dead. What’s the point in holding onto a corpse?”

  “You are correct, Captain,” said Athena, giving me a slight nod. “But one never knows when a piece of data might prove useful.”

  “You think we can do something with this shell of his?”

  “I do not know, but I prefer to be prepared for alternative outcomes.” She looked up at the display. “For possibilities.”

  Three

  The dark of my room was just enough to see the woman beside me, her hair glistening in the glow of the bathroom light. She seemed to feel me fidget and rolls to look at me, a gentle smile that I knew was only for me.

  “I wasn’t sure if you’d be up for this, considering how long your day was,” Abigail told me, brushing her fingertips along my chest. “You certainly proved me wrong.”

  “Good,” I said, stretching my toes and feet. “I like it when you’re impressed.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” she said. “Let’s call it relief.”

  “Relief?” I asked. “Is that what I’ve given you just now? I guess that’s one way to put the noises you made.”

  She laughed. “Yes to some of that, of course, but I say relief because I worry. You push yourself more and more every day.”

  “It’s nothing I haven’t done before,” I said.

  “Siggy says you haven’t eaten since breakfast. Even then, it was only coffee and a meatstick.”

  “That traitor,” I mumbled.

  “Don’t blame the A.I.,” she said.

  “I don’t. I blame you. Stop being nosey about what I eat.”

  “Someone has to,” she said with a shrug. “You’re no good to me dead.”

  “You must think we’re on a luxury cruise or something,” I said, scoffing at the notion of relaxation. “There’s too much to do and we’ve got an army up our ass.”

  “I never said you couldn’t push yourself and do the work, Jace. All I’m asking is for you to stop and eat some godsdamn oatmeal every once in a while.”

  “I’ll eat when I’m good and ready, woman, and not any sooner.”

  She stared at me for a brief moment, then burst out laughing. “Idiot. You’re going to die of your own stubbornness.”

  “What a way to go,” I said with a smile. I leaned in and kissed her.

  She embraced me again, this time with more passion than the last—a new energy between us.

  I could do this forever.

  * * *

  When I opened my eyes, seven hours had passed.

  Abigail was gone, probably back to her quarters. She shared a room with Lex, who probably wondered where Abby kept going off to. I had no idea if the nun had told her about us yet, but she’d find out eventually.

  That was if we kept this up, of course. It was hard to say how long it would last. Every woman I’d been with had only stuck around for a short while, except Eliza, but that had been a relationship of convenience. It never mattered to me whether she stuck around or not. We had used each other, plain and simple.

  But Abigail was different. I liked when she came to visit me, and I didn’t want her to leave when it was over.

  I pushed the thought from my mind. It was time to get out of bed. Time to get to work. “Any news, Siggy?” I asked, trying to force my eyes to stay open.

  “Only a handful of messages, sir,” he replied. “Nineteen in total.”

  I sighed. “How many are from the colonists?”

  “Eighteen, sir.”

  “Read the nineteenth entry.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Sigmond. “The message is from Alphonse Malloy. ‘Captain Hughes, when you have a spare moment, I still need someone to supervise combat maneuvers for the group of trainees. Please respond at your convenience.’”

  “Oh, right,” I said, opening my eyes. “I forgot about that.”

  “Shall I prepare a response?” asked Sigmond.

  “Ignore it for now,” I said. “I’ll have to talk this over with the crew. No sense deciding yet.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  I eased out of bed and hopped in the shower, scrubbing the stink of sleep off of me. My coffee was already prepped the second I stepped out, and I could smell the sweet aroma floating through the ship.

  After getting dressed, I walked into the lounge, ready to have my morning caffeine fix. “Thanks for the coffee, Siggy,” I said, beaming an eye to the overhead camera.

  “Anticipating your needs is part of my programing, Captain,” he said. “Nonetheless, you are most welcome.”

  “Good man,” I muttered, holding the cup close to my nose, then taking a sip.

  I paused, pulling the cup away. It was different, somehow. A tad less bitter. “How do you like the new blend, sir?”

  “New blend?” I asked, staring into the cup. I took another sip, letting it sit in my mouth for a second before swallowing. “It’s less shitty than usual. Not great, but less shitty. What did you do, Siggy?”

  “After taking note of forty-seven complaints regarding the taste of your morning coffee, I contacted Athena and inquired as to the availability of additional blends. She was most eager to assist and informed me that Titan has several available.”

  “You sure do seem to stay busy when I’m not around,” I remarked. “I’m not sure I like it.”

  “I believe that to be a false s
tatement, sir, if you don’t mind me saying.”

  “Oh? And what do you know about it?”

  “Your response to the new coffee was positive, sir,” he said. “It suggests you are pleased with my decision.”

  I set the cup on the table. “Shove it up your ass, Siggy.”

  “An impossible request,” he remarked, “but I shall do my utmost, sir.”

  I glanced back down at the coffee, hesitating before finally picking it up again.

  “See that you do, Siggy.” I took a long sip. “See that you do.”

  * * *

  I entered the refitted cargo bay to find Lucia and a handful of trainees. She’d volunteered to give them hand-to-hand combat lessons every morning. I had suggested letting one of the younger soldiers handle the job, but she refused, saying it had to be her. I suspected, truthfully, that she just liked staying busy. The woman might be old, but the fire in her heart had kept her alive. She’d never be the sort to sit in a rocking chair and knit her way into the grave. She’d die with a weapon in her hand, doing what she was born to do.

  I respected that.

  Lucia stood with two young men on each side, all of them holding staffs.

  Before I could say anything, the two fighters attacked, coming at the old woman with everything they had. The first went low, sweeping the staff at her knees.

  Lucia swept the stick aside with her own, controlling the man’s movement. The second came from behind, jabbing at her back. She spun around, releasing the first staff and blocking the second. It happened in an instant.

  The second man faltered, losing his balance momentarily, which gave her the opportunity to press him. Lucia struck the man’s knee, and I heard a loud snap as he cried out in pain. The first man dashed at her, a desperate look on his face. He brought the staff down on her, hard and with more force than I would have expected for a training match.

  She leapt to her side, swinging her own staff toward him. He jumped back, and she went forward. The tips of their sticks smacked repeatedly as they moved, almost like it was a dance. Lucia batted his away as she continued her push.

  The man looked unsettled, all planning lost. He was in a corner now, the walls around him closing. The old woman had him. It was only a matter of—