by Chris Hechtl
Once he was settled the conversation ringing the conspirators slowly picked up. When they were sure it was safe they continued.
“There are a dozen re-breathers in the ante room here. There are several more in strategic places on this ship. If we secure them and the life support, then we can gas the ship.”
Franx interrupted with “No! Cut the support and vent it!” surprising them. It was just loud enough to carry a bit.
The Horathians look up at the loud voices. Bard ordered the remaining goon to walk by and try to listen in. Hearing the order John grimaced.
“Little ears coming,” he said softly and then quietly changed the subject. The others were confused at first, but noted his cut off motion with his hands just before the goon got within earshot. Franx looked up as John described a New Texas buffalo and how he would kill for a decent steak right about now.
“Crap man, don't talk about steak now!” Ian said with a grumble. “Bad enough as it with this crap,” he said, disgustedly flicking his spoon.
“Sorry,” John replied.
“I want to know what happened when you were gone,” Sindri said.
John smiled slightly and decided it was a good enough topic. He loudly told them about what happened on the bridge, pitching his voice so the others around them could hear. The others fell silent to listen. When he got to the good part he glanced at Ian. He smiled maliciously.
“How did you know it was going to blow?” Right on cue McGuyver asked. It wasn't the question Irons wanted however.
Grimacing, John made up a story about how as a kid on the Kiev 221 he had witnessed a similar event. “The stink of burning insulation is still stuck in my brain to this day, and when I smelled it I had backed up even before my brain had caught up with my nose.”
Ian and Sindri both nodded.
“Was anyone hurt?” Franx asked, sounding just a little maliciously hopeful. John nodded. “Good,” the older Captain said softly.
The thug near Bard looked at him. Bard nodded grudgingly. Some of the prisoners saw the exchange and murmured, talking about how John was telling the truth.
“From what I saw, at least one guy was shocked, another blinded,” John confirmed. “I dunno if either survived or in what condition though.”
Grim satisfaction played on the others but was quickly cut off by the presence of the goon. One of the nearby listeners decided to get rid of the goon and told him to get out of his light. Snarling a reply, the goon stalked to the refresher.
“You are right, we need to take this ship and work together to do it. If you have my help I can guarantee it,” Quietly John told them after a moment.
“How can you do this with your hands chained?” Franx looked amused and commented. “You aren't going to be around long sonny, they are going to take their time with you. Hurting one of the prisoners is bad, breaking a bone?” he shook his head. “Suicide.” He looked at the others. “We shouldn't say anything more, he will squeal under torture,” he warned.
Admiral Irons faked dropping his spoon and dropped his hands in his lap. In a flash the fingers of his right hand deployed tools and the cuffs dropped off. “What cuffs?” he asked them quietly.
They stared at his naked wrists and then tried to hide their shock and surprise. Smiling slightly Admiral Irons used his body to cover his hands as he re-cuffed them. He continued his meal as they digested his “magic trick” and smiled wryly as the trio each came to a decision. Hope flashed in their eyes briefly, mixed with grim determination. Each nodded to him quietly.
“What about the self destruct?” Ian asked. “We're screwed if the brass...” he trailed off meaningfully.
John nodded absently, scratching at his stubble. He like the other males hadn't shaved. Apparently a few had gotten the opportunity, but they weren't going to talk about how. A few had the ancestry or genetic packages that provided for a hairless face.
“Don't worry about the destruct. I've got a way with computers,” John finally said, setting his bowl aside.
“But…” The passing goon who took his time on his walk by interrupted Franx. Franx fought the urge to look up and glare.
John chuckled mentally as McGuyver told of a story of a man slipping in the head, getting the others to laugh. Grimacing, the goon stalked over to Bard in disgust. Sprite picked up his report, as the goon rolled his eyes and told the Master Chief that they were just swapping stories. Bard looked up to glare at John, who calmly looked at him, then raised an eyebrow. Scowling, Bard dropped his gaze and dug back into his meal.
“So...”
“So I'll let you know,” John said. “It's all planned out, just be patient. Fell deeds await.”
“How?” Ian asked, hiding his burning curiosity and urgency.
“You'll see,” John said, keeping a low profile.
“How will we know it's from you?”
“Oh you'll know,” Irons said. He had come to a decision, really the only one he could under the circumstances. He would deal with the situation in real time as it happened and play that part by ear. He had Proteus send out nanite packages to each of the conspirators though.
“Okay, fine, be all mysterious. But, look here are the hand signals we've worked out.”
They sketched out hand signals and an overall plan, then got some rest. Three hours later the returning shift arrived, and shuffled in tiredly. McGuyver and his fellows stood and headed off for their shift. Franx updated the tired off shift personnel, who visibly perked up with predator like hunger. That got the attention of Bard.
When one of the Horathian prisoners took up a spot within earshot Irons changed the subject to ask about the EMP weapon.
“It's a rock,” Ian said, snorting softly.
“A rock?”
“Asteroid. They set it up like this. It's got the weapon on board. They drop it on a course near a target. It gets in range and bam!” He smacked his hands together in emphasis.
“Okay...”
“We learned the hard way,” Franx said, shaking his head.
“I see.”
“I was on a crew sent over to service it a few months ago. They weren't happy about letting me see it, but I was all they had. It's got batteries and capacitors. It takes a while to charge. The nickel iron coating acts as the matrix for the electromagnetic radiation to propagate through space.”
“Okay...” Irons said, cocking his head as he mulled that thought over. EMP weapons were well known; they had been in use since the late twentieth century. They had been discovered as a byproduct of a nuclear detonation. The massive pulse of electromagnetic radiation would fry normal electronics. Later mankind had learned to artificially generate EMP's with a low induction capacitive coil that dumps its charge into a coil antenna.
He'd thought Phoenix had said the destroyer had been in stealth and had attacked the little ship directly. Apparently either the pulse had addled the AI, or he'd seen something else. Or the ship's appearance had been a distraction to get the weapon into range.
It didn't matter. What was done was done; he'd analyze it later. When they had time. But first he, they, had to get to the point where they had time. For now, he needed to focus.
“This thing is wicked. Not a single shot, but a pulse train. I guess they wanted to make sure they got their target.”
“I see,” the Admiral said, mulling over this report. If Ian was right, and from the sound of it he was, it was bad. This device would have to be taken out.
“No, you don't see. It's lights out if it catches you.”
“I wonder where they got it?”
“Got it?” Ian shook his head. “They built the damn thing. Someone named Vinatelli showed them. It was built in the Horathian yards.”
The Admiral got a faraway look. “Horathian...”
Ian shrugged in impatient annoyance at the look. “Yeah, we know. We were surprised too. But yeah, Horath has a shipyard, more than one actually or so they say. I haven't heard anything that disputes that. They also have a fleet, hom
e fleet they call it I heard someone mention having a brother in home fleet.”
“How do you know all this? If you don't mind my asking,” Irons asked, shooting his eyes ever so slightly in the direction of the Horathian eavesdropper.
Ian scowled bleakly for a moment and then shrugged. “They've been cagey, but we've been picking up talk over the past couple of months and comparing notes.”
“I see.”
“This is a disturbing development Admiral,” Sprite said softly to him. He nodded once.
<----*----*----*---->
Where did he say he was from?” The Captain asked.
“Hidoshi's World sir,” Lieutenant Blye replied helpfully.
The Captain frowned thoughtfully. “So, it would stand to reason that he would have passed through here recently. Since we've been on station for what, sixteen months now? I don't recall seeing him. I am seeing a problem here. One I don't like.”
“I...see sir.”
“We obviously need to look into this more,” the Captain said. “I think we need to have another discussion with Mr. Doe. Now, where have I heard that name again?” he mused thoughtfully, stroking his chin.
“Sir, your steward said your dinner is ready,” the communication's rating said.
The Captain glanced at the clock and then stood. “As it should be,” he replied with a nod. “You have the bridge number two,” he said, nodding to the tactical officer.
The tactical officer nodded, logging off his station and then stepping to the Captain's chair. “You are relieved sir,” he said formally for the record. The Captain grunted and then exited the bridge.
<----*----*----*---->
“Are we going to do something soon? I think we've learned all we can. And the Admiral isn't following your advice very well. Instead of blending in he's sticking out,” Proteus said.
“Patience,” Sprite replied. “Though, to tell you the truth, I think he's surprised me in letting this go on for so long.”
“I believe you pointed out that he is building trust and establishing relationships with the other prisoners,” Defender replied.
“True,” Sprite said cautiously. She continued to record the conversations in the compartment with the Admiral's enhanced hearing. Multiple transcripts were being written on the fly. Word choice and tone emphasis were hash marks for her to review later. So far it was most of the same thing, of little import. Bard had apparently been snuck a snack by someone in sickbay, and the executive officer had interviewed him about the incident. Apparently they were building to something tomorrow.
“If I know the Admiral as well as I do, it will be tomorrow,” Sprite said. “We all know how he is in the morning. By now he'd probably kill for a cup of coffee,” she joked.
“True,” Proteus said neutrally.
They overheard Bard snicker darkly about how Doe was going to get what was coming to him in the morning. Sprite shared the information with the other AI and then put it up on the Admiral's HUD.
“I believe he'll get the chance soon enough,” Defender said. “As long as he recognizes the opportunity and acts in a timely manner.”
“Then we had better be ready. Which means short down time,” Sprite said.
“Actually, no downtime,” the Admiral said softly. “You have the plan ready?” he asked.
“An outline Admiral.”
“Good. I've got some additions...”
<----*----*----*---->
John feigned a nap. He closed his eyes and sketched out the planned outline Sprite had jotted out and then filled in the blanks. He threw his own twists in and the kick off. “Are you certain of this Admiral?” Sprite asked when he finished.
“It'll work?” The Admiral replied. He pinged each of the AI. “Right?”
“We'll damn well have to make it work. It's a bit risky... but we're past the point of caution I suppose,” Sprite said dryly.
“Incoming,” Defender said. The Admiral opened his eyes in time to see four Horathian's with a blanket near him. They saw his eyes. He wiggled his left index finger in a no no sign.
The Horathians pretended to shake the blanket out, snapping it and then folding it. “Next time,” one murmured.
“Oh hell, I don't think so,” the Admiral said under his breath.
Admiral Irons tapped his implants and ran diagnostics. His power was at eighty two percent. Defender, his military action AI was primed. Sprite had an ongoing map of the ship generated. From overheard discussions of the other prisoners she had updated it, and continued to do so.
The Admiral made a reluctant decision and gave a command to his AI. “Are you sure Admiral?” Sprite asked. “You don't want to bump it up a few more percentage points?”
“Ask him for anything but time Commander,” Defender replied, surprising them. “I think you have taken this far enough sir. It's time to act before time runs out.” John signaled agreement. It was indeed time to move on to the next step and lay the groundwork for his plan to succeed.
“Identify implant, a wifi point, telemetry to track them, text, data, and visual if you can handle it. Something to use to track them and let us contact them if you can't do the full package.”
“Admiral, without their knowledge or consent...” Sprite protested.
“Ethics be damned, we can always ask for permission after the fact. If they have a cow we can always pull it later. Just do it Commander. Go on the record if you must. We can always remove them later like I said. But let's work towards a later.”
“Aye aye Admiral.”
Proteus sent out ant trails of nanites to those sleeping near the Admiral. The nanites took up metal from the deck as well as from the Admiral's reserves and then got to work. One by one the AI gave each slave an Ident package and a wifi link. They wouldn't know about them until Sprite remote activated them.
“I see now. Not just to track them and to contact them, you also wanted to see through them. See who we can trust,” Defender replied.
Irons didn't want a discussion so he nodded ever so slightly and then bit out one soft word. “Exactly.” He was just glad they had learned this trick on Epsilon Triangula. Had they not had that experience, this wouldn't have been possible.
<----*----*----*---->
He moved around every half hour, rolling left and right and then he got up and moved. He went to the latrine twice as a cover. The poor radioactive sod he couldn't help so he reluctantly skipped him.
He took the opportunity to drink a lot of the brackish gray water and take on any additional materials Proteus could find. Then he found a new spot to bed down at. When someone mumbled why he was getting up, he murmured about the smell.
“You'll get used to it. Sit your ass back down. Get some rest. Your turn is coming. You'll need all the sleep you can get.”
“I'm doing it.” John said. He sat near Captain Franx and let Proteus go to work once more. He did this three more times, once near each Captain or other person. Each of the nanite packages was programmed to repair as much tissue damage as he had scanned, and then create the information implants they would need later. He needed them whole and as healthy as they could get. When they were finished the nanites were programmed to return to him along the ant trails if possible.
He even had the AI create simple implant packages in each of the Horathians in the compartment before he quit. They were programmed as a failsafe; a simple WI-Fi link wired to a bot attached to the sleep centers of their brain, along with taps to their ears and eyes. He could have Proteus knock them out or have the AI just monitor them.
“Admiral,” Proteus said, breaking off his repeated review of the plan.
“Yes?” Irons replied through text.
“When you touched the food replicator we used the WI-Fi node there to access the Micro surveillance bots you have left behind.”
“Status report?”
“I am not comfortable about extending my nanites as far as I have Admiral,” Proteus protested.
“Tough. Get over it. We'r
e all doing things we'll regret later.”
“Very well. I have traced the electrical and data lines under the deck and behind the bulkheads. I have accessed several.”
“What the blob is beating around the bush about is, we're in,” Sprite interjected.
“In?”
“In as in; in the ship's net. Proteus created an access splice for me to hack the ship's net. We're in,” Sprite said.
“Destruct?”
“Working on it. There is no guarantee it will be where it was in the blueprints, or that we will be able to access it though,” Sprite reported. “It could be entirely Horathian in design, such as a nuke. Be prepared for that,” she warned.
“Understood.”
“We are keeping tabs on the spy packages the Proteus left on the bridge and in the wiring. Everything is set. I'm even working on a discussion package with Nata'roka. I have to use the translation software I have on hand however.”
“Risk?”
“High right now. She is being tormented by the so called human navigator,” Sprite responded. “I'm waiting for an opening when she isn't paying attention,” Sprite replied.
“Okay,” John replied.
“Hopefully she doesn't think I'm a hallucination,” Sprite said dryly. Irons grunted. He cracked an eyelid, then stretched out and decided to get some rest. Tomorrow would be a day for fell deeds indeed.
ACT II
Chapter 9
-Break out-
Four hours later Defender woke him, as the guards got ready to enter the cell. He feigned sleep, allowing them to approach them and kick him awake. Groggily he dragged himself up, and they warily stood back.
He chuckled mentally and motioned with his cuffed hands to the door. “On your feet,” the first said gruffly. From the sound of it he wasn't quite awake either. John snorted softly.
Escorting him out to the anteroom, the guards assigned to escort him were new Irons noted. Well, one was, the other had the cut me tattoo on his throat. That one he knew, that one he owed.
“He doesn't look like much. I wonder why the Captain wants to see him in his quarters,” the first commented.
