by Chris Hechtl
“Not now. I'm busy,” Irons growled. “Whatever it is, it can wait,” he growled, pulling on the hinge.
“I'm afraid not Admiral,” Phoenix began, sending out a pulse. There was no return. The AI thought about it for a microsecond and then sent a rapid-fire series of pulses, these aimed at the local moon. The intent was to rebound them, to get the pulse to bounce off the moon to the odd object to get a scattered return. When the AI got the return a half second later he acted.
Sprite got the data stream from Phoenix as Irons kept working doggedly on the hinge. He felt his arm morph and his suit kick as he turned. “What the hell?”
“Defender, get the Admiral inside now,” Sprite said, dropping her voice into a cool soprano of command. “Phoenix, time?”
“Under five minutes,” the AI replied. “I can't get a solid number. Whatever is coming it's good.”
“Someone want to tell me what the hell's going on?” Irons snarled, fighting the AI for control of his suit. “Commander!”
“Get inside now Admiral. Incoming!” Sprite said.
“Shit, now you tell me,” Irons snarled, no longer fighting the AI. “Meteor?”
“No!”
“Sprite...”
“No time Admiral! Phoenix roll ship ten degrees. Brace for impact!”
“If it hits, I don't think it will. Rolling ship now,” Phoenix replied.
“What is it?” The Admiral asked, looking up over the hull. He could see something now, something black and not running any running lights. She was briefly silhouetted against the gas giant beyond.
“Ship. It’s some sort of ship or other object. It's under stealth. Cancel that, stealth is dropping! It's a...” Phoenix's running report was cut off in a squeal as the Admiral entered the open lock. The lights in the lock flickered and then died before the door could close.
The destroyer erupted out of stealth and used force beams to short Phoenix's shields and drive before the Admiral could get back inside to do anything. The ship went dead, drifting with its running lights out. A last lingering puff of RCS had kicked Phoenix into a slow roll. Irons looked up in time to see a ship pass by, less than a thousand kilometers away. That was suicide range with shields, but it was there and gone. He scowled and returned his attention to his ship, throwing out a radio inquiry. It was dead and he didn't like the implications of that.
“Report!” Irons growled, looking around. “Sprite? Commander! I know you can hear me!”
“Sorry, safety reset. I was in the net with Phoenix when the destroyer hit us with some sort of directional EMP weapon and then a force beam barrage. Shields, wedge, drive, and power are down. Phoenix is dead. I'm not sure about the AI. Admiral, this doesn't look good.”
“Shit!” The Admiral snarled, turning back to the lock. He pulled on it, but it didn't move. He flipped the cover plate up covering the emergency back up and went to work.
“Admiral! That will do you no good, there is no power and the outer doors are open. There is air on the other side.” Irons patched his right arm into the grid and then sent a mental command. The outer door started to close and then stopped about ten centimeters apart. They jerked a few times there, not quite ready to close for some reason. He had to pull the jack out though, the damn power grid tried to suck him dry.
“Oh,” Sprite said thoughtfully after he got the door closed. It was incredibly dark in the airlock. It didn't bother him, he had his sensors and enhanced vision, but it was inky black.
“It's partially closed,” the Admiral said, turning. He grabbed the doors and forced them shut.
Helpless to stop what was going on, but determined to try, he forced his way back on Phoenix by pure muscle power. He received a garbled damage report from Phoenix. He had been on the shadow side of the ship; its bulk had shielded him from the effects of the EMP. The EMP was most effective against civilian grade systems, military systems had redundancy and hardened electronics.
Phoenix had some milspec systems and could power back up given time, but there was no point, he didn't have enough fuel to run far. He cursed himself for that then got his temper under control.
“We've got more important issues here, and a time crunch. They will be coming Admiral. Now what?” Sprite warned him.
“Any sign of a shuttle?”
“No, they overshot. We might get something for a warning, but I doubt it, space is big.
“So is this it? Go down fighting?”
“Admiral, the provisions on capture are clear,” Defender said.
“Termination? Not going to happen. I'm not caught yet,” Irons growled. “So don't go there. And no, I don't think playing possum will work. We can't run we all know that.”
“In death ground fight?” Sprite asked.
“More like in hemmed in ground use subterfuge. I have a plan.
“Oh a plan? This was all planned? This oughta be good,” Sprite grumbled. “Please, tell us this plan sir.”
“Commander, no time. Drop the sarcasm. Just work with me here. Phoenix overlay a firewall and hide. Don't let them see you.”
“I am damaged, I am not certain I can,” Phoenix reported.
“Sprite, Defender, help him. Proteus, get in there as well. Phoenix, give me a damage control report.”
“Shields are gone. We're on reserve power, at fifty one percent and falling. Life support is stable. I've cut the power to the gravity to conserve power.”
“Understood,” Irons said as he worked.
“Drive is out. We're venting some atmo and fuel. Active sensors are down, most likely scrambled. Passives... I've got some cameras, but most are down as well.”
“Shit.”
“Lidar is semi-functional. But I don't trust it.”
“Okay. Frack, that’s not good. Anyway we can get a time estimate on when they will return?”
“If they are smart they will send a shuttle. Not dock directly. There is no telling the behavior of wounded and desperate prey,” Sprite said, echoing what they had learned from a lifetime of dealing with pirates.
The Admiral cursed but kept working. He purged his databanks, and locked his computers down before his ship was boarded and he was taken prisoner. Anything remotely military was dumped into the recycler and slagged. His armory was one of the things he slagged right off, including the armored suit Sprite had picked up for him. He had been tempted to use the thing; a repeat of Ironman inside the destroyer might work, but only might. He had to get to the ship first. The destroyer would be foolish to let him on board wearing the thing, so that option was unfortunately out.
“We can't run. We can't hide. So we bide our time, get on board and then take them from the inside.”
“Mutiny,” Sprite said.
“I'm not their crew. They want me, well, I'll give them more than they ever wanted.”
“Agreed,” the AI replied grimly.
<----*----*----*---->
“Admiral, the provisions on capture are nonnegotiable,” Defender said as they swung into action. The ship was holding off, they had an hour so far, a precious hour to get organized and do some damage control. He wondered briefly if they had done that on purpose, let him do the grunt work of trying to fix his ship then come in just before he finished and took over. That rankled a bit. Smart though.
“If you even think about what you are doing I'll lobotomize you myself,” Sprite growled. Irons could see her throwing firewalls up. He ignored it, too intent on forming his plan and getting things moving. He didn't have a lot of time.
“They are pirates. They don't know who I am, and they certainly don't know about you three.” He looked at the computer interface. “Four.”
“So?”
“Remember what we did on Io? I'm going to play possum long enough to get on their ship, and then we're going to tear her apart from the inside,” the Admiral said flatly, in a tone that should have broke no argument.
He'd briefly considered doing that on Io 11 when they had first taken him. Luckily for all concerned fort
une or fate had intervened. He'd bonded with the girls over the shared adversary of the marauding pirates, and then brokered a deal with the Captain. But the entire time he'd kept the AI as his secret, his ace in the hole.
“Admiral, this goes against orders...” Defender retorted. Irons glanced at the plot. It wasn't stable, but it was enough to get a vague idea on what was out there. The ship that had shut Phoenix down was outside of sensor range. But so were any shuttles. They'd have about a ten-minute warning of an incoming shuttle.
“Lieutenant, do you have any doubt that we can bust out of that brig at any time of our choosing?”
“No.”
“Knowing our capabilities? We can take the ship but only from the inside. I want that ship. No offense Phoenix, but I want it. Bad. And I mean to take the ship. But to do it and run her, we need support. Which means crew.”
“I... see. Admiral, this plan is, insane. Even for you.”
“If it's crazy and it works it's not crazy,” the Admiral replied. He ignored the doubt the AI expressed. The AI was playing devil's advocate after all. He did have a point; the plan was right up there with some bad Hollywood drama. It was true though. He was horribly vulnerable right now. But if he was on the inside, there wasn't a weapon on board that could harm him. They'd have to blow their own ship out from under everyone to get him. And with his shields, he might survive it. Might. He wasn't ready to test that. He added locating and defusing the ship's scuttling charges to his mental list. Finally he dumped the plan into a file and threw it up on the main board for all four AI to read it.
“Now see? That's what I'm talking about,” Sprite said, shoving Defender a rapid-fire text message saying, “I told you so.”
“We'll get this done.”
“What if they recognize you? You haven't exactly been keeping a low profile Admiral,” Defender warned him. He sent back a text to Sprite, agreeing with her. That shocked the other AI into silence.
“Then we'll have to do something about my face so I won't be recognized also my body, suit, the works, same for the ship and gear. Get a list going,” Irons replied. “Work the problem don't be the problem. You are a security AI; I want you to take it from the other side. Crack them like an egg.”
“Aye aye sir,” Defender replied.
“Think of it as an infiltration job Defender. We're getting in. Nothing they've got can stand up to us once we're on their ship,” Sprite replied.
“I understand the mission. I am however going on the log protesting the violation of standing orders.”
“So noted. Get to work.”
“Aye aye Admiral. What first?”
“Okay, remember what we practiced you three?” Irons asked.
“You're not serious sir,” Sprite said. She was now nervous about what he had in mind. There wasn't a lot of time to debate it though. Time ticked down like a cascading waterfall.
Proteus's avatar swayed and pulsed in dismay. “It's not tested Admiral. I...”
“No time like the present. And we have no time. Do it. Start with my face and body.”
“What about your voice? They may have recordings Admiral.”
“That next,” the Admiral said, feeling nanites in his skin go to work. It felt like ants all over his skin until his nerves were cut and the nanites went to work, morphing his face.
Irons had Sprite and Proteus use the nanites to alter his appearance. They changed his face, hair, removed his beard, changed his build slightly, altered his eye color, and altered his voice box.
“Proteus, stock up on nanites and power. Do that now, material as well. We'll need to get as much power in me as possible, plus nanites. We're going to need them,” the Admiral said, flexing his jaw. He touched it with both hands gingerly. The AI had disconnected his nerves to work the changes, but it still stung. It felt like sunburn, a bad one. It could be psychosomatic. He didn't have time to wallow in it though. He turned with new eyes. He looked at his hands. Even the pigmentation in his skin had been changed, he was now Caucasian, almost albino in appearance, definitely a spacer.
“Sprite, work on a back story for me and Phoenix. Something plausible.”
“Gotcha.”
“Proteus...”
“Power reserves at ninety point four percent Admiral. You need to plug in. Or at least get close to an outlet. I can use nanites to form a line.”
“Bucket brigade. Gotcha,” the Admiral replied, unconsciously echoing Sprite. “Phoenix, any robots up?”
“One Admiral.”
“Use it to sanitize my things. Everything.”
“Sprite and I are on the software. Admiral, you do realize I should be deleted.”
“We'll see if you can get away with playing possum. Throw up a firewall, several. The usual viruses we've encountered should bog them down. Toss in a directory from hell and a corrupted search engine.”
“Oh lovely,” Phoenix replied.
“Work on the suit,” the Admiral said. “Use material from my wardrobe,” he said, charging into his quarters.
“Admiral...”
“Just do it!” He ordered. “If they notice the missing arm...”
“They'll wonder why. Got it,” Proteus replied, going to work. The Admiral noted nanites streaming out from his HUD. Slowly the coverall dissolved and a sheathing formed over his arm.
“Admiral, the cubs?” Sprite asked in concern.
The Admiral winced internally but realized he was helpless. He'd have to accept whatever came next. “They'll have to take their chances. We can't put them into stasis.”
“No,” Sprite replied. There was just enough reserve energy to keep a trickle charge going in the life support in the room he was in. Gravity was slowly ebbing as the force emitters spun down.
“Try to get them to hide. Maybe we'll get lucky,” the Admiral said, turning away. He had more important things to focus on. The cubs and if they lived or died in the next few hours wasn't up to him.
The Admiral dived into his quarters, throwing everything with military markings into a pile. Memory chips, tablets, military equipment he had been tinkering with, anything he could he threw in the pile. “Destroy this,” Irons growled, pointing a finger at the pile.
“Understood,” Proteus replied, sending out a spray of nanites. The items dissolved in seconds. “I am collecting material for possible future use.”
“Good.”
When that task was completed his day overall under his space suit was sanitized of military markings and covered in stains. Also the AI did their best to sanitize the ship's records and destroy any questionable materials with the maid robots.
A few of the robots worked, but a couple robots were unsuccessful. One couldn't get into the small cargo bay. The hatch was blocked by debris.
He had been tempted to fight, just get on the shuttle, get it to the ship... but no, they could stand off indefinitely if needed, or if he tried to board manually, standoff and shoot at him. No, mutiny from within was increasingly the only survivable option.
By bad luck one suit in the laundry was overlooked.
Once he was certain he had taken things as far as he could, the Admiral went to the tiny engineering compartment and got to work on restoring the fusion reactor.
“Shuttle inbound, it is circling... I think they noticed the bay is too small.”
“Class of shuttle?” the Admiral asked.
“Skyhawk,” Sprite said curtly. The Admiral grimaced in annoyance. It was a fine thing, being boarded by pirates who had a captured Navy vessel and were using a captured military shuttle.
“Time?” He felt a bump. “Never mind,” he growled, knowing that was a hard dock.
“They are having trouble getting in. Should I help them?” Phoenix asked.
“No. And shut up. Mute. Go into observer mode. Don't help them at all,” the Admiral said, voice dropping into a guttural growl. He banged on a few things.
Sprite thought he was getting his frustration out, but he was really just passing time and tryi
ng to get into the role of a frustrated spacer. Which he was.
He could hear footfalls and stamping feet as the ship, his ship, was boarded. He fought the impulse to fight them off as the pirates swarmed his interior, first heading to the bridge. He watched through micro cameras Proteus had fashioned and left behind.
There were a dozen pirates, all in military or civilian police armored skinsuits. They had their weapons drawn. It was a motley assortment of weapons, most of them short ranged sawed off shotguns or pulsers. He shook his head. All of the boarders were human. Apparently skulls were a favorite decoration, that and black. They certainly looked the part of pirates.
When two of them came to the hatch he swore, banging on the casing. He'd done what he could, but it would take fuel and a restart to get the fusion reactor back online. He didn't have the time to do it.
“You! Freeze!” a voice snarled behind him. He froze. “Hands in the air!”
Slowly he set the wrench down and raised his hands. Defender itched to bring shields up but he overruled the AI grimly. This would either work or not.
“Where are the others?” the same voice demanded curtly.
“I'm it,” Irons said, turning slightly to look over his shoulder. “I'm a...”
“Shut it!” the voice said and he felt a rifle butt slam between his shoulder blades. He oofed and went down, rebounding off the casing. Instinctively his hands caught himself.
“I said Hands up!” the voice snarled, hitting him again. Irons felt himself being clubbed to the deck, and then handcuffed. He was kicked a few times and then the pirate stopped.
“Control, got one. Repeat one.”
The Admiral felt encrypted radio signals going out from the pirate, and then another set return. His enhanced hearing caught the order to keep him quiet. Before he could say anything rigger tape was ripped and then spread over his mouth. The tape was wrapped around his head and then ripped off. A second strip went over his eyes and around his head.
He laid there for a long fifteen minutes, wondering if he had done the right thing, but knowing he had no choice now. He had to accept it and work on the way out.
