by Aer-ki Jyr
Jason gently clawed his armored hands against the padded wall and pulled himself down the hallway ahead of the Knights, coming up to the bottom of the T that led down into the main section of the station. He poked his red helmeted head over the hole in the ‘floor’ and looked down, seeing nothing but a clear vertical shaft twice as wide as the tunnel he was emerging from. Above his head he saw another airlock, this one much bigger, that he assumed was used for delivering large supply sleds to the station.
Across the center of the T was an identical hallway that led to what should have been the airlock entrance to the docked cargo ship. As he pulled himself against the side of the hall, Jason pointed across the shaft and Harrison shot by him, heading for the ship as the other two focused their attention on the station’s crew.
Imbedded into the wall of the shaft was a ladder…two, actually, as Jason spied one on the opposite wall. Pulling on the edge of the hole he shot himself down the shaft, bypassing the handholds entirely with Reynolds following him down a few seconds later.
When he got to the bottom of the shaft he braked against the ‘floor’ with his hands and glanced around, seeing two available routes. One was a large cargo storage area that he had emerged on the edge of…the other was what looked like crew service areas through a series of doorways running the length of the wall.
Using his fingers to flip himself around, Jason righted himself and waited for Reynolds to drop down behind him, then he waved the taller man in the opposite direction, with the Knight pulling out a stun stick from the clasp on his belt. Through the speakers in Jason’s helmet he heard the distinctive crackle/pop of the stun energy activation and likewise pulled out his own weapon as he floated towards the nearest door, bouncing off a nearby crate to get a better angle of approach and some momentum.
A sudden impact on his chest knocked him backwards and askew, as well as registering a sharp pain and crunching sound just after the loud gunshot rang out in the otherwise silent station.
Jason grabbed hold of the doorway and swiveled himself outside the hallway and out of the line of fire, then glanced down at his chest, seeing his red armor plates had been cracked where the bullet hit and ricocheted off. He waved off Reynolds who had started back and pulled the small stinger pistol from his left hip and hit the charge button. He decided to wait for someone to come out after him, whereupon he could have bashed them with his stun stick, or until the charge icon on the side of his weapon indicated that the paintballs had reached the saturation point. When that finally happened he launched himself around the corner again and started firing.
His first shot hit the waiting man in the face, thwarting another bullet from coming Jason’s way. The Archon noted the fact that he’d missed high, attributing it to the awkward drift of firing from free float. He mentally adjusted his shoulder position as he bounced off the wall and accelerated down the short hallway with a push from his left foot.
He rammed into the stunned man and deflected off his body, angling into the low ceilinged room as he spotted several other crewmembers hiding in various locations, though none of them appeared to be armed. Jason didn’t give them an opportunity to recover the man’s weapon or find their own as he bounced around the room with practiced grace, stunning each of them into unconsciousness with his stun stick. When he had secured and searched what appeared to be the station’s dormitory, he pulled out plastic restraint bands from a tiny compartment on his armor’s belt and lashed the stunned men’s wrists together before leaving the room to continue the search.
“Five neutralized,” he reported over his helmet comlink. “One had a sidearm. I took damage to my armor, but aside from a potential atmospheric leak I’m ok.”
“You let him hit you?” Paul’s voice responded sarcastically.
“My fault, I got sloppy. I didn’t think they’d be armed. It won’t happen again.”
“Any sign of explosives?” Paul asked, his voice turning serious again.
“Not yet. Hopefully we can get them all before they realize what’s happening. Hold on,” Jason said as he got in position to dive into the next room, but instead he altered his aim and ‘jumped’ off another crate so that he flew past the opening rather than into it, aiming his pistol down the hall. He caught a glimpse of a person far down inside the room and took a hasty shot, then caught the edge of the doorway with his fingertips and reversed his momentum, pulling himself back into and down the hallway head first.
He emerged into what looked like an electronics prep room, finding two people present. Pulling himself along the ‘ceiling’ and across workstations, Jason rendered both unconscious with little effort, then put them both in restraints.
“Two more bagged, neither armed,” he reported, then floated his way back out into the cargo area. He cleared out two more rooms along the wall until he found a ladder-clad tube heading down to a lower level. When he was just about to go down his comlink activated.
“Ship secure, Archon,” Harrison reported on what Jason’s heads up display tagged as a private channel between the two armored suits.
“How many?” he asked, responding on the same channel.
“Three.”
“Bring them into the station and tie them to the ladders in the main shaft, then follow us in and help clear out the rest.”
“Happy to,” the Knight said, cutting the comlink as he got to work.
Jason moved down the narrow tunnel and emerged into another identical level, this one containing partially constructed ship components spread out on the cargo floor, attached to what looked like miniature construction slips. Through the mess he spotted a number of airlocks on the far side, suggesting that this was where they handled the assembly of the larger pieces before the crew put them together outside.
Off to his right Jason spied movement…a head ducking out into view and back in again. The Archon pushed off immediately, bouncing twice more to gain speed and angle of approach before ducking in the short hallway and running head on into a man in what looked like pajamas.
A quick flick of his stun stick and the man was stunned limp, with Jason pushing his body aside as he drifted into a plastic wall, breaking through easily but getting tangled up on a second less than a meter in.
As he righted himself his brain caught up with his surroundings and registered the fact that he had entered a clean room…with the man’s ‘pajamas’ being the corresponding anti-dust uniform. A myriad of computer components and delicate tools spread across the area, with one of the sharper ones flying through the air in his direction.
The knife-like cutter scratched and bounced off his helmet, with Jason’s quick hand reaching up to snatch it out of the air before it bounced into the unconscious man who had been propelled by his momentum into the room behind Jason. Holding the tool in hand, the Archon leapt across the room and slashed the face-masked tech who’d thrown it across the head with his stun stick, leaving what would later become a significant bruise on his forehead.
Jason tucked the tool away in a Velcro wall rack along with several other instruments and proceeded to bind up both techs when he got a report from Reynolds.
“How’s your Chinese?”
“Nonexistent, why?”
“I’ve secured what looks to be their control room…with their computers still logged in, I think.”
Inside his helmet Jason smiled. “Stay there and secure that location. Don’t let any of them sneak in and delete data or flip switches. Any sign of a self destruct?”
“If there is one, there’s nothing to indicate it here.”
“Alright, keep your eyes open. I’ll be there as soon as I secure this level.”
“Wanna trade?” Reynolds asked.
“Haha, no,” Jason said, cutting the link. He’d been waiting for this for a long time and wasn’t going to play babysitter now. With an eagerness built on years of training and a long, boring trip out from Earth the Archon floated off down through the stations’ second level, then the third, taking out and capturing
42 crew in total, with the Knights adding another 35, all of which were eventually transferred to the SR as prisoners and escorted back to a holding facility on a zone 3 station under the guard of the Knights.
Jason remained on the shipyard, helping the techs that arrived as well as the specialists back in Atlantis remotely take apart the inside of the station and its computer systems, acquiring a mountain of data and evidence that would be helpful later, both in hunting down the remaining warships and providing Davis with political ammunition for the diplomatic firestorm ahead.
10
December 23, 2059
“Well look at this, says that they got the last of the pirate ships three days ago,” Harold commented, reading the newsfeeds. “I told you there was nothing to worry about.”
“Did they blow it up or capture it?” his 16-year old son asked, seated across from him at the zero gravity table in the starport’s common’s area as they waited for their Lunar cruise ship to begin receiving passengers.
“Hold on a second,” he said as he read through the article on the touch screen tabletop in front of him. “Says they ran it out of fuel then demanded they surrender, after which the ship self-destructed.”
“Uh, again? I thought pirates wanted to stay alive at all costs, not blow themselves up.”
“Did they say who they were?” his 14-year old daughter asked.
“No, it just labels them as pirates. But Star Force has assured the public that they got the last of the pirate ships, so no need to worry anymore. From here on out it’s two weeks of relaxation and Moon exploration, just like I promised.”
“I still say we should have postponed,” his wife argued. “Look how many less people there are here than last year.”
“And miss the Christmas cruise? Absolutely not. This is one family tradition we are not going to break, pirates or no.”
“Who’s to say there aren’t more pirates roaming about? Just because they caught this gang doesn’t mean there can’t be others.”
“I don’t think there’ll be any more pirate trouble,” Harold assured her, “not with everyone knowing that Star Force can defend itself now. I bet the pirates wouldn’t have hit a single ship if they’d known that beforehand.”
“I don’t feel right about it,” she insisted. “Star Force was supposed to be a peaceful organization, and now they have a military? That’s just trouble waiting to happen.”
“Well someone’s got to protect us up here,” her son argued. “I think it’s cool they kept their ships hidden, then wham! That’ll make people think twice before messing with anyone’s ships again. I feel safer now than I did before.”
“He’s right,” Harold said. “Somebody’s got to put their foot down up here, and I don’t trust the UN to do it. Star Force is the only one that can, and like with everything else they seem to be two steps ahead of the game.”
“If they were two steps ahead of the game then nobody would have lost any ships, now would they?” his wife sniped back. “This whole vacation is leaving a bad taste in my mouth already, and we haven’t even boarded the ship yet.”
“You’ll feel better when you get some gravity back under your feet,” he said, watching his wife’s and daughter’s ponytails bobbing in the air. He figured part of her unease was the fact that she couldn’t let her hair hang down in the zero g without looking like a medusa.
“I still want to know who they were,” his daughter repeated. “Who has the money to build their own ships up here?”
“Good question,” he admitted. “Guess we’ll just have to wait to find out. Says in the article that Star Force is undertaking an investigation as to the identity of the pirates. I’m sure they’ll figure it out eventually. They’re probably picking through the debris from those warships right now.”
“And if they figure out what country they came from, then what? Are they going to start a war?”
“Oh, I’d like to see that,” their son said, clapping his right fist in left palm. “Bet they’d kick ass.”
“David, watch your language.”
“Sorry, Mom. But I bet they would.”
“The last thing this planet needs now is more fighting,” she said resolutely as Harold continued to read through the news reports.
“I’m with you there,” he agreed, “but it looks like the politicians are of another mind. Half of them want to give Sean Davis a medal for stopping the pirate attacks…and the others want him strung up. They say Star Force having weapons is a violation of international law and a threat to national security.”
“Ours or the other countries?” his daughter asked.
“Both,” the American said regretfully. “There’s a quote from the Secretary of Defense stating that an unregulated paramilitary organization with the means to disable or destroy our communications satellites puts not only our space possessions at risk but the States as well. Damn fool, can’t he see a good thing when it falls in his lap.”
“Harold, your language.”
“Well he is one. I’d trust Star Force to protect us better than the military when they’re following the orders of the…darn politicians. Star Force doesn’t have elections to win or people to please, they’re free to do what’s necessary and so far they seem to have our best interests in mind.”
“And how long will that last? They’re a business after all, bottom line they do all this to make money.”
“What money are they making from their warships?” David asked.
Harold raised an eyebrow at his wife. “He has a point. Where’s the angle there?”
“I’m sure we’ll find out sooner or later,” she scoffed.
“You’re hopelessly negative, darling.”
“Thank you, dear,” she said with equal sarcasm.
“Anyway,” he said, going back to the newsfeeds and pulling up another related story. “Looks like Star Force is going to be keeping its ships around the neighborhood to keep an eye on things from now on, which our Secretary of Deficiency also doesn’t seem to like.”
“Where were they keeping them anyway?” his daughter asked.
David looked over his shoulder at her. “Space is huge. There’s a lot of room to hide...” he cut off with his eyes going wide. “Holy shit!”
“David!” his Mom scolded.
“Son, we had a talk about using that word earlier…”
“No, look,” he said, pointing to the wall-sized screen displaying a camera image of the docking side of the starport.
Harold followed the line of his finger and did a double take. “Jesus Christ! What the hell is that thing?”
“Harold!”
He ignored his wife, something he’d gotten used to doing over the years, and stared at the slowly moving mass of gray blotting out nearly the entire image of the Earth and stars as it passed from off screen left and into view.
“That is freaking huge,” David said, his jaw dropping as more and more of the mass came into view. “It’s even bigger than the starport!”
“No, son, can’t be,” Harold said, squinting at the image.
“He’s right, Dad,” his daughter said. “It’s farther away than it looks. See that other ship down there,” she said, pointing to a Cougar approaching from the bottom right of the screen on a docking approach, looking for all the world like it was going to run into the behemoth.
When it passed in front and his eyes finally gauged the real size of the object his jaw dropped as well. “Are we passing another station in orbit?”
“Use the transponder app,” she suggested.
“The what?” David asked.
“Ugh,” she said, leaning forward and activating the touch screen in the table allotted for her seat. She dove into the menu system and quickly brought up a Star Force app allowing access to all of the station’s exterior cameras. She selected one view of the object and clicked on it, with the app locking onto the transponder signal and pulling up the relevant data.
With a slide of her finger she sent the app
and the data over to her brother’s terminal. “There.”
“Sweet,” he said, barely prying his eyes away from the wall screen to read through the short profile. “It’s not a station, it’s a Star Force ship called the Orion.”
“Does it say what kind of ship it is? What it’s used for?” Harold asked.
“It should,” his daughter said, gloating over her brother’s unfamiliarity with the common app.
David sorted down through the various numerical designations that he didn’t recognize until he came to the ship’s class.
“It’s labeled as a ‘Command Ship’…warship class,” he read with a huge smile spreading across his face. “That is so freaking awesome.”
“Dear God,” his wife said, an expression of fear on her face.
“I imagine the pirates said the same thing,” Harold said, a mixture of awe and pride in his voice. “Does your information say how big it is?”
“Yeah, wait a sec…here it is. 2,200 meters wide.”
“What’s that in miles?”
His daughter reached over and tapped the conversion button, reaching across her brother’s arms.
“I can do that,” he scoffed. “It’s 1.3 miles.”
Harold whistled. “Honey, that’s further than it is to the Jackson’s house.”
She shook her head. “Why on Earth would you want a ship that big?”
“So nobody messes with you,” David answered.
Harold nodded his agreement. “I think that’s exactly the message they’re sending.”
“So much for national security with that in your backyard,” David offered.
Harold laughed. “No wonder the Secretary of Defense is pissed. We’ve got nothing that can go up against that. Lucky for us they’re on our side.”
“Are they?” his wife asked.
Harold nodded. “I’d bet my bottom dollar on it.”
