by Kal Spriggs
“Thanks, Frankie,” Mason said as he took a seat across from him. Both of them were dressed like locals and the change of clothes made Mason feel far more like himself. The roleplaying of Stavros had almost become too involving and sometimes Mason caught himself wondering if he was losing some of himself. It was good to leave the role behind, if only for a few minutes. “Admiral Mannetti was asking about the Kraken's programmer. She wanted me to arrange contact with her.”
Frank's lips formed a flat line. “That'll be a little hard. What did you tell her?”
“The truth, sort of,” Mason said. “I made it vague enough that she may not realize that it was Stavros who killed her.” He sighed, “I am sorry that you didn't get a chance to finish the bastard.”
Frank Pierce looked away, “Just as well. She never did think much of revenge.” He looked back at Mason, “Mannetti wanted to meet with Kaycee... that almost certainly tells us functional alien technology.”
“Possibly the same technology as the Kraken,” Mason said.
“So... you think it's related, somehow?” Frank Pierce asked.
“I wish I knew,” Mason growled. “I don't know squat about alien tech. I mostly just avoid the damned stuff, especially after what happened with Stavros and Kaycee.” In his life as a pirate, he had come across some of it, but he had always left the handling of it to those who did know its dangers and values. Now was not the time for anyone to notice “Stavros” reading up on alien technology.
Frank nodded, “I picked up quite a bit of general knowledge, but anything beyond knowing warning signs and picking out the more valuable trinkets is beyond me. We need an expert for this sort of thing.”
“Well, while we try to find one of those, we've got bigger problems,” Mason said. He let out a deep breath. “Mannetti is planning a move against you,” Mason met Frank's gaze, “She plans to use Stavros to do it.”
“Well,” Pierce said with a sigh, “that's a relief.”
“A relief?” Mason asked. “She wants me – well, Stavros, but to her there's no difference – to make certain you lose Azure Wing on its first mission.”
Frank Pierce gave a nod, “Of course. Makes sense, too. She wants to hit me when my people are most vulnerable.” His gaze went distant, “It would be harder to counter if it were someone else. Her last little 'warning' cost my people badly enough. Truthfully... well, I want to get my people out of danger. This isn't their fight, they're in it for the money and the profit margin is pretty slim on this, just now.”
“You're going to pull out?” Mason's jaw dropped. He had never known Frankie Pierce to back down from anything.
“If I do it now, I might save a lot of my people,” Frank Pierce said softly. “And we both have way too damned many ghosts in our pasts for you not to understand that.”
Mason nodded. He did understand... but he also knew there were too many lives riding on this. Baron Giovanni was trying to hold off the Chxor. Whatever Admiral Mannetti's long term goals were, he would bet that they would involve the destruction of the United Colonies, which in turn would leave the Chxor free to expand across human space. Lucretta Mannetti might try to stop them, but it was just as likely that she would only defend those worlds she found to be of value.
“I need you to stay a little longer,” Mason said. “We'll think of something as far as this next mission, but this is too big, there's entire star systems riding on this now.”
Frank gave him a slow nod. “I'll stay,” he said, “but my people had better not pay the price.”
***
Garret paused outside Abigail Gordon's quarters, hand raised to knock. This is stupid, he thought, I shouldn't be here.
It had taken him most of the past few days to work up the courage to do this. He had timed it so that he knew Abigail's two roommates would be away, one on shore leave on Halcyon and the other conducting training. He had thought carefully about what he wanted to say, yet as he stood in the corridor, he found the words and courage both slipping away.
Finally, he lowered his hand. Tomorrow, he thought, I'll just try again tomorrow.
In that instant, the hatch opened. Abigail stood there, her red hair still damp from a shower, wearing a simple sun dress. “Oh,” she said, “Sorry, Captain, is there something you need?”
Garret forced himself to give her a pleasant smile, “Uh, not really, I was just passing by. Going out?”
She gave him a sunny smile, “I was. Jessica commed me. She and the munchkins will be at the park and I thought I'd go down and see them all. It might be my last chance before our next mission.” She cocked her head as she noticed he was in civilian clothing and a sudden twinkle came to her eye, “Say, would you like to come?”
Garret hid a wince. The last place he wanted to go with Abigail was to see his ex-girlfriend, now sister-in-law, and her kids. “I don't know,” he said, “I do have some paperwork to catch up on...”
At that moment, Heller stuck her head out into the hall a few hatches down. “He's lying, he'd love to go.” Her voice was pitched loud and Garret could hear the music in her earbuds even several meters away.
Garret turned a glare in her direction. Seriously, he thought, how did she know I was even out here? Heller just gave him a smirk and closed her hatch.
“Great!” Abigail said. “I'll comm her to tell her you're coming too!”
Garret stood in the hallway for a long moment. It was good, he thought, that he had picked up so many languages. It gave him a much broader vocabulary of curse words.
Jessica is going to kill me, he thought.
***
“Bridge is cleared,” Lauren said as she set down a sensor wand. “And I checked the systems. No signs of any surprises left by Mendoza. We should be secure.”
Mason nodded and ran a hand over his face, “Good.” Though he still wore Stavros's clothing a marked change had come over him. She couldn't say how but the man that stood there was entirely Mason McGann, who just happened to be dressed in tight leather pants and a lime green shirt open to the waist.
“So what is this about?” Lauren asked as she came to stand near him. Privately, she hoped they would have time for more than conversation, but she didn't know how long the rest of the crew would buy the “Angry Stavros in Temper Tantrum Mode” routine, even with the pre-recorded diatribe set to play at the hatch for the bridge.
He sighed, “Things are moving quickly now. I'm not sure what is going to happen over the next few weeks. Mannetti wants Stavros to move on the War Dogs and I'm still not entirely certain how that's going to fall out. Admiral Collae and Spencer Penwaithe seem willing to bide their time, but I don't know what their endgame is either. I wanted to take some precautions.”
“Oh?” Lauren asked.
“The Kraken's automation systems are set to identify biometrics and respond to commands from authorized users. We already authorized you, but there's an added level of security that I can allow you to access. From there you can override everything, including any standing commands in the system,” Mason tapped in the commands on the captain's console and a moment later, a pedestal raised from the deck. “This level of security actually predates Stavros, by the way, so no one would expect you or I of being able to do this.”
Lauren's eyes went narrow. “Why are you doing this?” She asked. She could think of any number of reasons why giving her greater access to the ship would be good. Unfortunately, most of them would mean that Mason was either dead or incapacitated.
“Just a bit of insurance,” Mason said, his voice calm. His dark eyes, however, held more than caution. He's worried, Lauren realized, worried that this is going to go very wrong. “Just put your hand on the scanner. You'll feel, well, it's kind of hard to describe...”
She put her hand onto the scanner. For just a moment nothing happened and she thought Mason must be playing some kind of joke. Just before she pulled back, though, she felt her entire arm tingle. A heartbeat later, she felt intense heat, but as she tried to pull her hand b
ack, she found it was stuck, held in place as if it were clamped in a vise. The tingling sensation mounted, almost like an electric current, yet it didn't spread any further than her shoulder.
The green light of the scanner flashed to purple and it released her hand so quickly that Lauren stumbled back.
A bright light strobed and part of the deck folded back. Lauren gasped as she saw the cocoon-like structure that lay revealed. It was part nest and part acceleration couch, but run through with wires and circuitry. “What is that?”
Mason came up next to her, “That is the primary controls for the ship. At least, I think it is.”
“What?” Lauren asked.
“The scientists who discovered her, they thought that the ship was designed to be operated by a single pilot, wired into the ship's systems and melded into her computer systems with a direct neural interface. A pilot like that would be able to react far faster than any normal crew and they could utilize the ship's computers to multitask all of the Kraken's systems with no issue.” Mason said it all quite matter-of-factly, as if it were of little note.
“Wait, has anyone tried that?” Lauren asked. Maybe it was just her, but plugging ones brain into alien technology sounded a little dangerous.
“Oh, no,” Mason said. “No one has been that desperate. For that matter, Stavros stole the damned thing and killed most of the scientists who brought the whole thing online, so it's not as if anyone else had the chance to research their findings.”
“Great...” Lauren said with a shiver. She stared at the cocoon with a mix of fascination and dread, “How do I make it go away?”
Mason pointed out the controls. “You can bring it back out from the captain's console at any time, the same way. Not that there's any real need, you understand, but it does make a fancy parlor trick, wouldn't you say?”
He took a seat at his console and Lauren felt a twinge of worry as she saw just how tired he looked. She knew the strain that playing this role had put upon him. She'd seen the regret that he felt in going back to many of his old ways, even if only in farce.
She moved up next to him and her hand found his, “We'll get through this.”
He seemed surprised at her touch and she thought he might even try to pull away, but instead he just gave her a nod and squeezed her hand, “I know. I just worry about how many good people are going to die in the process.”
“Less than would die if we weren't here,” Lauren said confidently. They still didn't know exactly why Admiral Mannetti was here, but Lauren had little doubt that the bitch planned to hit the United Colonies in revenge for her earlier defeat there. What she would do to Halcyon, after she got her way, wouldn't be any better.
“I hate that I'm so good at this and no good at anything else,” Mason said as he dropped his head into his hands. He gave a ragged breath and Lauren felt her chest ache at the agony in his voice. “I've tried so hard to put this life behind me, but I feel it all coming back... and damn me, but I've never felt as alive as when I command a ship in battle.”
“That's not so bad,” Lauren said.
“Not bad?” Mason looked up, his eyes two pits into hell. “I've killed more people than I can even count at this point. Sure, now we're fighting corporate security goons, but most of them are just there for a job. Hell, the Colonial Republic ships we've destroyed so far I'd say the majority of their crews are just ordinary people, many of whom signed up just to defend their worlds.”
Lauren caught his hands, “Yes. But they're the enemy right now. They would kill us without hesitation. And those worlds they're protecting? More than half of them are ruled by despots and military councils. The other half are corrupt oligarchies whose common people probably wish they had the kinds of opportunities to be found in a military dictatorship. What we're doing is protecting the United Colonies and the freedom and future they represent.”
She pulled him close into a tight hug, “That's a future for both of us.” She could feel him go tense at her touch, yet after a moment he relaxed and his arms clenched around her.
Mason gave a sigh, “What would I do without you?”
“Probably sleep with that skank-whore Admiral Mannetti,” Lauren said. She tilted her head back and a moment later, his lips met hers. She felt her whole body tingle as she clutched at him, “You know,” she said as she finally broke away, “We probably have at least another hour before the crew gets curious...”
His response was to reach for the zipper on her jacket. Take that Admiral Mannetti, she thought as she reached for his belt.
***
Anvil System
Colonial Republic Space
January 28, 2404
Garret yawned slightly as he brought his Hammer's systems online. Behind him, he heard Heller snort, “Girlfriend keep you up all night?”
Garret scowled, but he didn't comment. In truth, he had stayed up late with Abigail, but they'd been talking about Halcyon and some of the changes they'd seen. It was odd, to him, how easy he found it to confide in her about things. Part of that was just her personality, he knew, but the rest was that she somehow made him feel comfortable. That feeling had only been reinforced by their “date” in the park and the dinner they'd shared afterward. While it was true that Jessica's attitude had been, at best, disapproving, Garret had still had a good time with Abigail and, to his surprise, with young Garth and Henry as well.
And at this point, it was pointless to argue about the relationship anyway, he could admit. He didn't know if he would classify her as his girlfriend, but they were in a relationship. Half of the War Dogs had already assumed that, apparently, and the other half didn't care one way or another.
Still, Heller needed some kind of response or else she would assume the worst, “Did you ever isolate those odd readings we had on our sensors after that last exercise?”
He could sense Heller's scowl from here. “Nein,” she said, her accent harsh. A moment later, she grudgingly spoke, “I think it is a software glitch, but I haven't isolated it yet.”
It wasn't often that Heller found herself unable to fix a problem and when it did happen, she tended to take it personally, probably because she was a damned good weapons officer. “Well,” Garret said with a smile, “That's unfortunate.” Humor aside, the odd sensor ghosts they'd seen in their last simulation could be a problem, particularly if they showed up during actual combat. Still, he was inclined to agree with Heller in that it was a software glitch from the exercise simulation. The various ships in Stavros's squadron had a variety of technology and equipment and the past few exercises had been rife with software incompatibility issues.
Which wasn't to say that Garret disagreed with the idea of the exercises. He had appreciated the extra training time for his flight of Hammers. Controlling thirty-six of the big gunboats was far more complicated than a single squadron. It also represented a sizable quantity of firepower, albeit a fragile element of it. A single squadron of interceptors could potentially destroy his entire flight, if they got inside his formation. Managing their ammunition and munitions over the course of a battle was something of a nightmare, because once a Hammer expended it's missiles and five rounds for its mass driver, it was effectively useless for any offensive role.
Thankfully, though, this mission didn't look to require that level of finesse. A nice, easy shopping trip, with a show of force to keep everyone honest. His pilots and crews could use that experience, he knew, because although they were combat-ready, they still had plenty of rough edges.
“All squadrons,” Garret said, “thirty seconds until we emerge from shadow space. Squadron leaders, give me your update status.”
A moment later, all squadrons reported in and Garret opened a channel to Stavros's net, “Azure Flight, standing by.” A curt response from the privateer was the only acknowledgment. Odd fellow, Garret thought, sometimes he can be impressive and a damned skilled fighter and he's a likeable bastard, even charismatic, but he's about as despicable a human being as they come.
The last few seconds ticked away and Garret brought his Hammer to full readiness and checked to see that all of his flight had done so as well. Even though he knew that this was supposed to be a supply run, that didn't mean that things couldn't go horribly wrong.
On that very thought, the gray nothingness of shadow space vanished, replaced by the star-lit blackness of space. Ahead of him, close enough to set off alerts on his sensors, hung a tangle of still-sparking debris and clouds of ionized gas. The convoy, he thought, someone hit it... and they're probably still here.
“Incoming!” Heller snapped. That was bad. His Hammers were immobile targets while attached to their carrier craft, which were themselves little better than converted civilian transports.
“Azure Flight, emergency detach, now!” Garret barked.
On his screen he saw his squadrons begin to break away from their carrier craft, but too slow.
The Sky Dog and the Hot Dog vanished in a series of detonations.
Garret heard confused chatter in the background as almost half of his flight died before they even saw what had killed them. He detached from the Star Dog and spun his Hammer away. The remainder of his flight had begun to form up as the second wave of missiles struck their carriers. The Star Dog, Space Dog, and Big Dog all died as the missiles ripped the unarmored transports to pieces.
“Form on me,” Garret snapped. On his display, he saw that his weren't the only people taking hits. Captain Montago's Saber took at least three solid hits, his cruiser going into a sharp spin as the engine pods on the starboard side erupted into a chain of explosions. “Dammit, Heller, get me a target!”
“I am trying,” Heller snapped. “Whoever it is, they are too far out, the squadron can't even see them!”
The problem was, a swarm of fighter craft was within close range. The light, swift craft swarmed over the squadron, firing off bursts of energy weapons and salvos of light missiles at point blank range. This isn't a battle, this is a massacre, Garret thought, even as another of the privateer ships erupted in explosions.
