Transmission Lost

by Stefan Mazzara

  The ramp leading up to the main hatch was still down from when the pirates had begun unloading earlier in the day. Sweating profusely now, despite the rapidly cooling evening, Jack stepped up onto the ramp. He cringed at the dull clunk his heavy boot made on the studded metal, though the sound wasn't much louder than his feet on the grass had been. He climbed up, pausing every few steps to listen. Still no sound from the pirates' camp. When Jack got to the hatch, he laid his rifle against the hull next to the entrance.

  “Alright...,” he mumbled to himself. “Let's see here.” Jack had spent three months crewing on one of these same types of transport ships during his time in the UN Navy, before being promoted up to pilot status. As such, he remembered exactly the type of lock that this ship had. Usually, to get inside this model each crew member was given a coded key card, which was waved over a small gray panel next to the hatch. Of course Jack didn't have one of these cards, so he ran his hand around the door. “Come on, I know it's here somewhere.”

  A second later, Jack felt a raised square edge halfway down the side of the hatch. Triumphant, he ran his finger around the raised edge. Every ship constructed for the UN Navy was required to have an override panel that could be opened up, allowing for a numbered code to be punched in. This code was required for non-crew members who would need to get in, specifically inspectors and maintenance personnel.

  Jack pressed his hand down in the center of the panel, and it swung open. Inside was a lighted number pad with a few additional buttons, just as he had expected to find. Now came the tricky part: While Jack had known one of the override codes once upon a time, that had been ten years ago. The way the codes were implemented was that the code was hardwired into the ship's systems, unable to be removed except by a complete gutting and reinstall of basic components. This was essentially the same as creating a new ship, and was prohibitively expensive for all practical purposes. Jack was reasonably sure that this ship was old enough to have been the same model year as the one he'd used to crew on, and all military vessels of the same model year and type were programmed with the same override maintenance override code. If he was right, the code Jack knew would open the door. If he was wrong, the code would lock out the manual override and probably set off the ship's alarms.

  Only one way to find out, Jack said. He extended a finger to the number pad and started inputting the old code.

  ******

  “Se hala na ka'vehe...,” Aria grumbled to herself, sitting back against a tree trunk near the top of the ridge. Take too long. Hate waiting.

  Jack had already been away for an hour, and she was growing impatient. The Ailian wished that she had set a shorter deadline, but the plan had been agreed upon and Aria would stick to it. But she was still anxious, still nervous, and every five minutes she would go back to her rifle which was set up at the top of the ridge and look through the scope. Aria knew that it would be very satisfying to kill a few of the pirates from her perch, but then Jack would get in some serious trouble.

  Snarling, she got up for the fifth time and crawled over to her weapon. Snugging the stock tight into her shoulder, she put her eye up to the sight and looked down at the pirate camp. Even if she had wanted to snipe some of them from where she was, she couldn't see any of them. The lack of vision wasn't the fault of her eyes; Aria could see fairly well in the dark. It was just that all of the pirates seemed to have bedded down for the night, and taking random shots into the tents would not be productive at all.

  Scanning around the ground below, Aria finally spotted Jack. He was walking up the ramp to the pirate ship, which confused her. She'd expected him to go for her own ship, to try to retrieve the radio inside. Then again, perhaps the pirate ship made more sense. With all of the stuff that the pirates had removed from the wreck during the daylight hours, it was possible that her radio might not even be inside the Cha'la'fa any longer. If that was the case, Jack would need to get a working radio from the pirates.

  That didn't make Aria feel any better about what he was doing, but at least it made sense.

  “Luck to you,” she wished him quietly, taking her eye away from the scope. Her stomach was rumbling, and she wanted a snack. Aria had the sneaking suspicion that she would need her energy before the evening was over.

  ******

  Crossing his fingers on one hand, Jack reached for the number pad with another. Double-checking his memory just to make sure he had it right, he slowly tapped out the six-digit sequence he'd learned during his time in the military. Each press of a button made an audible beep, and he held his breath, certain that one of the pirates would wake up and hear what he was doing. When he finished he leaned back from the pad, waiting. A small red status light blinked above the numbers as the ship computer processed the code that he'd entered.

  Just as he was thinking that the code had been wrong, and that the alarm would sound at any moment, the red light blinked off and a green one shined steady. The number pad chirped an acceptance of the code. Hardly able to believe what he was seeing, Jack pressed a button next to the manual input and the main hatch slid open with only a slight creak. Elated, he picked his rifle back up and proceeded into the ship.

  The ship's interior was dim, and seemed to have mostly been shut down for the night. Things inside weren't completely dark, however, and small auxiliary lights shined along the ceiling panels, giving him enough light to see his way by. Holding his weapon in a ready position, Jack started inside the ship. This type of ship had numerous corridors inside, and would have been impossible to navigate under ordinary circumstances, but Jack remembered the floor plan from his younger days. However much the pirates had modified the ship they seemed to have kept the alterations external, limited to the weaponry and the engines. Everything else was exactly the same.

  From the entrance, Jack turned right down a corridor which would eventually take him to the bridge area. That wasn't where he needed to go, however. Jack was looking for a radio, and every ship of this type had a communications station separate from the bridge which contained the integrated ship comm system as well as communications equipment which could be unhooked from the ship's systems and carried in a more portable fashion. Since that was what he was after, Jack followed the corridor for a few minutes and then detoured to the left.

  The whole time, Jack moved slowly, trying to make as little noise as possible. Just because the pirates had camped outside didn't mean that there might not still be a few of them inside of the ship. He prayed that he wouldn't encounter any of them. Though he was prepared to shoot to save his own life, once he fired his weapon that would be it, and the rest of the pirates would know he was there. He had Aria up on the ridge in case things went south, but she might not realize that anything was wrong until it was too late for her to do anything, and if he was in a fight inside the pirate ship she wouldn't be able to help in any case.

  Putting those thoughts aside for the moment, Jack concentrated on keeping track of where he was going. He took another left from the corridor he was walking down, then turned right into a hallway that extended a long ways across the width of the ship. Doors lined this hallway, but Jack was only concerned with the one that stood at the very end. That, if his memory was serving him well, would be the access door for the communications station. Quickening his pace a little, his heart pounding like a sledgehammer against the inside of his chest, Jack walked down the hallway until he reached the door. Unlike the doors which led into the ship, this one had no security since it was assumed that if someone had made it this far into the ship they were probably one of the crew or another authorized person. Jack pressed the access control beside the door and it hissed open.

  Jack's heart nearly stopped when he saw that someone was inside the room. A pirate was sitting at the communications array, a set of headphones over his ears. Thankfully, he had his back to the doorway. The reason he hadn't turned around at the sound of the door opening was evident right away. The pirate was bobbing his head slowly, a bottle of what looked like beer
in one hand and a cigarette in the other. Heavy metal music was audible, muffled somewhat by the headphones being pressed against the pirate's ears, but clearly cranked up to high volume. Jack shook his head slightly, suppressing a snort of laughter. The pirate was using the communications set for his own personal music player.

  Taking the chance that luck had tossed his way, he crept into the room and raised his rifle. Swinging his arms as hard as he could, Jack brought the butt of the rifle crashing down on the back of the pirate's head. With a dull crack and a low groan of pain, the man slumped in his chair and slid to the floor. Making sure the door was closed behind him, Jack dragged his unconscious form away from the chair and rested him against the far wall. Taking his place in the chair, Jack shut off the music and looked over the equipment arrayed around the room.

  “Hm...,” he said to himself. “Looks pretty standard. They haven't done much customization when it comes to the communications equipment.” Jack quickly found one of the portable radios and detached it from its housing. He made as though to get back up and leave, but paused for a moment. He might want to do a little more investigating. Maybe it wasn't important to know a whole lot about these pirates, but then again, it might be. Jack surveyed the integrated radios, not touching any of the switches to avoid setting off any signals. Every few moments he glanced at the unconscious pirate, making sure that he was still in dreamland. So far so good.

  ******

  Chewing on a piece of dried meat, Aria sat near the edge of the ridge, looking down at the silent pirate camp. Nearly two hours had passed now, and there was still no sign of Jack returning. Aria was growing even more restless, and was seriously considering going down there. She was anxious now, worried that something might have happened to Jack. He should have been back by now; the three hour time limit had been a generous estimate of how long he would have needed for a quick sneak-and-peek. About the only good news, from Aria's perspective, was that the moon had climbed in the alien sky, giving her a clearer view.

  From where she was, Aria could see that nothing seemed to have changed down below. The wreck of the Cha'la'fa was still just as destroyed as before, and the pirate ship was still as motionless and quiet as ever. The pirate tents were unmoving, as one would expect tents to be. Aria could see multiple power generators set up among them, and those were quiet as well. She shivered a little as a chilled wind blew through the area.

  Something pinged in the back of her mind. The night was cold, just like nearly every night had been while she'd been stranded on this planet. If the pirates had power generators, they should be running to provide heat to their tents. But Aria's sharp ears couldn't detect any hint of noise from them that would suggest they were operating. That was...not right...

  “Pa'ka...,” the Ailian cursed to herself, her eyes widening. How I not realize before... She stood up, snatching her rifle from the ground. Gripping it tightly, she began stalking down the ridge, her feet occasionally slipping on the slick grass in her haste. She hoped she wouldn't be too late.

  ******

  What the hell? Jack thought to himself. He was startled by what he was seeing right now. Civilian vessels, and pirate vessels still technically counted as civilian vessels, would have their radios tuned to commercial band frequencies to get information on planetary weather, space hazards, and traffic control. Since civilian ships had different mission parameters and capabilities, they needed this specific information. However, each input receiver of this ship's integrated radio was tuned to military frequencies, both the standard ones and some not-so-standard ones that Jack didn't recognize, but which were coded with Special Operations identifiers.

  “This isn't a pirate ship at all...,” Jack murmured to himself.

  “Very good.”

  Jack whipped around in his chair, his eyes widening and his heart ramping up to breakneck speed. Standing in the doorway, which he hadn't even heard open, were three of the “pirates”, including the female leader he'd observed before. All three of them were armed with handguns, and all three of their weapons were pointed directly at him. Jack slowly raised his hands, feeling a sense of déjà vu. A similar situation had been how he'd met Aria. Somehow Jack didn't feel as though this situation would work out quite as well.

  The female looked at the male to her right, jerking her head towards the unconscious radio operator. “Taylor, take Smith to sick bay.” The male she was speaking to holstered his weapon and went to the man, picking him up under the arms and dragging him out of the room. The female leader stepped further into the room, and the other male kept an eye on Jack while she handcuffed his arms to the chair. With that done, she dragged over another chair and sat in front of Jack, crossing one leg over the other and putting her weapon away. The male stood at her shoulder, keeping him covered with his gun.

  “Who are you?” Jack asked, finding his voice. “Why are you in a ship with pirate markings?”

  The female smiled at him, though it was a smile with absolutely no friendliness in it. “You're in no position to be asking questions, my friend,” she said. Her accent was neutral, and Jack couldn't place it. “But I'll indulge you. We're from the UN Navy, privateers. We go by the name of Task Force Amber. We fly under pirate colors and work Ascendancy shipping routes, taking supplies and ships from Ailian merchants to be converted to military purposes.”

  “Never heard of you.”

  “That's the idea,” the commando said. She crossed her arms. “You can call me Captain Bennett. And you must be Mr. Squier.”

  Jack looked surprised. “How...How did you know my name?”

  “We didn't come here first. The first wreck we investigated was your ship, the Star's Eye.” Bennett uncrossed her legs, leaning forward. “We downloaded the ship's logs from what was left of the main computer, so we know everything that happened right up until you crashed. Now, how about you tell us everything that's happened since then? Like how you came to be at the crash site of the Ailian vessel that was pursuing you.”

  Jack opened his mouth, then closed it. He shook his head. For some reason, he knew he shouldn't share that kind of information with these people, even though they claimed to be military. He didn't have a good feeling about them at all.

  “You're not going to tell me?”

  He shook his head again, tight-lipped.

  Bennett sighed. “I was afraid of that. Ramsey?”

  The commando standing behind Captain Bennett walked forward. With little in the way of warning he jammed the barrel of his gun against Jack's left leg and pulled the trigger, firing one round into his thigh. Jack jerked back in his chair, his arms straining against the handcuffs as he let out a bloodcurdling scream of pain. Blood streamed from the smoking wound. Bennett waved a hand and the commando holstered his weapon, then withdrew a tourniquet from a pocket and wrapped it around Jack's thigh.

  Choking back the pain, Jack gasped for breath. He stared at the wound in his leg, not quite believing what had just happened. He looked up at Bennett, but she was looking at him impassively.

  “How about now?” she asked. “Ready to tell me?”

  “F-Fine...,” Jack managed to say, his voice almost squeaking with the effort of speaking through the pain. “I'll tell you...”

  ******

  Creeping around one of the tents in the empty campsite, almost at the pirate ship, Aria froze in place as she heard the shot. From the muffled nature of the sound, she thought it had probably come from within the ship. Her heart jumped a little bit as she felt the familiar thrill of battle start to come to her. There was a fight coming, no mistake about that. But underlying that thrill of battle, for the first time, she felt a touch of fear. Jack was inside that ship, and there couldn't be any good reason for there to have been gunfire inside.

  “Need to get in there...,” the Ailian hissed.

  Aria quickly ran up the ramp to the main hatch. She paused there, confused. The entranceway was much different from one on an Ailian ship. The locks on Ascendancy vessels were biometric
ally coded, and would open when an authorized person presented a retina scan. This lock seemed to require some sort of device to open. She strapped her rifle to her back, out of the way, and knelt next to the doorway on the ramp, trying to figure it out. She messed with the controls next to the door for twenty minutes. Aria knew ways to override the biometrics, but she wasn't sure what to do with an electronic lock.

  Her ear twitched suddenly. Aria wasn't even sure why it had twitched, but she paid attention to it. Over the years, she had learned to trust her instincts. Cautiously, she pressed her ear to the door of the ship and listened carefully. For long moments, she didn't think that she heard anything. Then, faintly, Aria heard the soft tapping of footsteps on the other side. They grew gradually louder as she listened, and it sounded as though there was only one person approaching the door. She flattened herself against the outside of the hull at the top of the ramp, next to the door, and drew her knife from its place on her belt.

  A soft beeping sound was heard from the inside of the doorway, and the hatch slid open. A man stepped through, and Aria heard a metallic snapping sound, saw a brief flare of light, smelled the faint odor of something fragrant burning. In a flash, Aria darted her hand out and grabbed the side of the man's head. Before he had a chance to even utter a cry of surprise, she swung her knife hand over and drew the blade across his throat, opening his neck up from ear to ear. Blood spattered the metal surface of the ramp, liters of it spilling from the man's body in a matter of seconds. Letting his body fall, Aria darted inside the ship. The door closed behind her.