The waves lapped gently at the bottoms of Ashley's bare feet as she dangled them over the edge of the old bioplastic dock. A lazy breeze caught strands of her long black hair as she gazed out over Lake Chalmers. She sat at the broad end, at the edge of Master Gamrie's estate where she could just barely see across it to the tall vertical hydroponic farm on the opposite shore. They were almost like trees, their weathered and pockmarked surfaces had turned light brown and green with age.
Getting daily chores finished quickly enough to get away from the main house was hard, time alone was rare. The cool water tickled her toes and she smiled, marvelling at the perfect blue sky. There was tall green grass behind her, she could hear the wind hiss through it as the breeze turned into a mild gust.
“Ashley, time to get up,” Stephanie interrupted.
She didn't open her eyes, rolling over onto her stomach and sighing instead.
“You wanted to be up in time for the first broadcast, remember?” Stephanie reminded as she opened the privacy curtain.
“Good dream,” Ashley murmured. “Your timing sucks.”
“When did you start sleeping in the lower berth? I had to look you up on my comm.”
Ashley sighed again and sat up. Her head brushed the bottom of the bunk above. “Couple days ago. Haven't slept this well since the Samson. Between the bunks and morning yoga with the Chief I've never felt better. Still want more sleep though.”
“I thought you liked your quarters, especially after taking the trouble to decorate.”
“They're pretty, but it's too quiet on the Officer's deck. It's like sleeping in a tomb.”
“I got used to it, you should give it a chance.”
“You have Frost to keep you warm at night.” Ashley pulled a thin towel from a shallow overhead drawer and swung her legs out from the middle bunk.
“Might want a shirt?”
She waved the advice off. “No one cares here, 'sides, I've got shorts on and a towel.” She snapped the waistband of her small black shorts as she dropped down.
The main pilot's berthing was a labyrinth of bunks stacked four high. Each one had storage space under the mattress, overhead and at the foot, and a seven foot tall human could sleep easily, as long as they didn't sit up. Blue and red privacy curtains stopped as much or as little sound as the occupants liked and in an emergency each bunk could seal perfectly, saving the sleeper from sudden decompression if the air were to evacuate the berthing.
Ashley had moved in. All her essentials were packed into the bunk along with a few towels from the officer's quarters and some leisure clothing she'd collected from her time on the Samson. The pilot's berthing had been one of the first sections of the ship to employ the new, reprogrammed, cleaning bots. Ashley stepped around one of the three centimetre thick circular bots as it made its way down the corridor. When it finished the floor it would make its way up the bunk sides, buffing and scrubbing silently as it went.
Stephanie followed her between the bunks. Most of the privacy curtains were closed, it was just before most people would be waking for morning shift. One young pilot who was just waking up, his arm hanging over the edge of his bunk, got an eyeful and averted his gaze as soon as he noticed Stephanie walking behind Ashley, scowling at him.
“You really like it down here?”
“You really like Frost waking you in the middle of the night?”
“Sometimes. When he doesn't have bar breath.”
“Well, until I have someone to remind me that I'm not alone in the middle of the night I'll like it down here. Besides, I get to know the new pilots, they're nice too.”
“Of course they're nice, you're the Master of the Helm. Your walks to the shower in shorts and a strategically placed towel must be a real hit too.”
“I don't think anyone really notices since most are from the military or big industrial frigates. There's no privacy there. Besides, after growing up with even less privacy I don't even notice. Hi Jordan,” Ashley waved as she passed a pair of young officers. The one who had two wings stretched across his cuffs smiled at her as she went by.
Stephanie couldn't help but play mother hen to her best friend occasionally. Ashley still assumed most people were good at heart. In the case of the pilot who she'd acknowledged on her way through the crowded berthing it seemed she was right, he didn't so much as break eye contact as Ashley passed by.
“How was patrol?” Ashley asked over her shoulder.
“Didn't happen. We came out of the wormhole late.”
“Don't worry, you'll be out there soon.” They passed into the group lavatory. There were two dozen unisex toilet stalls to one side, sinks and hygiene product dispensers on the left and a honeycomb of shower stalls at the end. In the centre were several pillars where the less modest crew members could shower without privacy. She flipped her light blue towel to Stephanie, who was already dressed in her black vacsuit uniform and armed for duty as Security Chief.
Stephanie cleared her throat. “Really? You're not even going to use a stall?”
“What? You were in the military, from what everyone says this is par for the course.”
“You're the Master of the Helm, an officer.” Stephanie shook her head. “What's the point of all the extra hours unless you at least get a divider while you're in the sonic.”
Ashley shrugged and stepped into a stall, snapping off her shorts. “As you wish miss manners. Incoming!” She flicked the undergarment over the semitransparent divider at Stephanie, catching her in the side of the face.
“Nice. When I was in the military they gave us three minutes to shit, shower and get in gear on a good day. You should feel lucky Captain didn't just file us in with the rest of the crew when his old chums came aboard.”
“Listen to you, all cynical and 'back in my day' like. I bet people here feel better seeing that I expect no better than they're getting. They see I sleep in the same bunks, take extra time to practice flying in the sims and keep walking the learning curve.”
“But they're supposed to take orders from you. That's why Officers get their own quarters, so they know you're in a higher position.”
“Where'd you hear that? I can give them advice, sure, and I'm their superior but the fighter wing isn't even in my chain of command. I'm really just another pilot.”
“Who flies the carrier for eight or so hours a day.”
“Yesterday was eleven. Get me a denta tab, 'kay?” Ashley directed as the water came on and sprayed her from all sides in hot jets. She pumped the shampoo dispenser and lathered.
Stephanie walked over to a dispenser and pressed the button that initiated a materialization sequence that produced a small, minty green chewing tablet. On her way back she had to dodge a pair who were headed to shower stalls in a state of undress similar to Ashley. They apologized through grins.
“Does this berth have to be unisex though? I mean, this isn't really a military ship,” Stephanie stuck the denta tab in Ashley's mouth over the divider, which was just low enough so she could see the top half of her face.
“Uh-huh, not military,” Ashley replied sarcastically as she chomped the oral cleaning tablet. “Have you met our new First Officer?” Ashley rinsed her hair. Some of the spray caught Stephanie, who stepped to the side and leaned against the next stall.
The sound of the floor sucking the water into the recycling system was almost so loud she had to yell. “I guess you're right. He has brought in a lot of good changes though. It's easy to know your place on the ship now. You should have seen the report I had to make the day after Jake was back. It took me three hours to narrate and he only checked the fifteen minute summary. I nearly strangled him. He's not as stiff as you'd expect most military officers though, he seems to have a swagger too, like he's stepped out of some swashbuckler or cowboy movie. The more I see him and Captain together the more I get the feeling we're turning pirate, not looking for alliances anywhere. Doesn't take long to figure out why they're old chums.”
“I know, I like him. We call him Oz on the bridge, reminds me of that old kids movie, only he's not some creepy guy behind a curtain and there's no yellow brick road.”
“Sometimes I have no idea what you're talking about,” Stephanie shook her head.
Ashley sputtered and leaned out of the stall, on tip toes, her hair gooped up with conditioner. “What? You never saw the Wizard of Oz?”
“That's what it's called? Now that I think of it,” Stephanie feigned pondering for a moment. “Nope, never saw it.”
“God, what did you guys do when you were kids?” Ashley asked as she went back to her morning shower.
“We played outside if we weren't in school.”
“Ah well. I didn't get away often. Used to spend a lot of time at the lake when I did though. I know it was slavery and being a kid in the household sucked but it was a beautiful place. I can't wait to call Fred, if it weren't for him I'd be a real mess.”
“You're not getting your hopes up too high I hope. Jason Everin and the rest of the analysts are saying the death toll is over fifty percent for worlds hit with the Holocaust Virus, there's no telling-”
“I'm not too worried. They had slaves on Gamrie's estate because they didn't like bots much, so there really aren't many around. It's a little off the beaten track anyway.”
“I just want you to be ready for anything,” Stephanie reinforced gently.
“I know. Think you'll get a hold of your folks?”
“Pretty sure. I mean, it's not like they could afford anything you'd load an AI into. I'm just worried about my cousins in the refinery.”
“If they're as quick and clever as you they'll be fine.”
“Here's hoping.”
Ashley cut the water and turned on the sonic emitters. Most of the excess water was shaken off her skin under the vibrating pressure of the invisible waves. “I love this ship, if for no other reason 'cause everyone can use actual water for their showers and vibe most of the way dry,” Ashley sighed, her voice affected by the vibrating air in the shower.
“Wing Commander on deck!” Bellowed someone just outside the lavatory.
“It's Minh-Chu,” Stephanie whispered as she stepped away from the cubicle and looked down the main passage between bunks. Ever since Captain Valance's return the mid to low ranking crew members were being pressed into a more military order of conduct and she was glad to see it had carried down into the pilot's berth. All the pilots stopped what they were doing and stood at attention.
“Oh crap!” Ashley whispered, crouched below the edge of the privacy barrier. “Towel!”
“I thought you didn't care if anyone saw you in the buff.”
“Now I care, kay? Towel!” Ashley shot back in a whisper.
Stephanie tossed the towel into the stall. “You fancy him.”
“And?”
“Should I tell him?” Stephanie teased in a whisper.
“Only if you want me to start using all your secrets in conversations anecdotally,” Ashley threatened.
“I need two pilots to join my patrol. I'd prefer volunteers who've had a rest period sometime in the last sixteen hours,” Minh-Chu announced.
Ashley hurriedly wrapped the towel around herself and checked her comm unit. “Crap, I've got duty in two hours otherwise I'd sign up.”
“Captain probably wouldn't like that. You're over extended as is,” Stephanie whispered back.
“I know, but, um. Do you think Panloo would be willing to do a double shift?”
“I think she just did. Ah, too late, he's leaving. He got two pilots.”
Ashley poked her head over the privacy barrier. “Jaime and Mia, they're good too.”
“Good thing. They're investigating the asteroid field.”
“God, sometimes I wish I were just another member of the squadron.”
“No you don't, a quarter of pilots don't come back from active engagements. Well, that's on most ships anyway, Triton’s crew is too new to have stats.”
“I have the math, three dimensional thinking and reflexes for it though, that's half the battle. I've also flown everything we have in sims and qualified.”
“All the more reason why I'd rather have you right where you are, safely guiding Triton around.”
Ashley made her way back to her bunk with Stephanie close behind. “Yeah, most of the time I feel like a glorified bus driver and the rest I'm responsible for trying to dodge torpedoes and God only knows what else with one of the biggest ships I've ever seen. It's like threading a needle with a chisel and a sledgehammer.”
“You know you enjoy it.”
Ashley smiled and sighed, pulling a black vacsuit with her rank insignia, seven silver wings on each cuff out of the storage compartment under her bunk mattress. “You know I do. How's security?”
“Better. Jake, I mean Captain Valance has had more time to help out and Jason's been able to make sense of our surveillance systems without using an AI. He's even getting a grip on the Triton’s operating system. The ship's starting to come to life again.”
“I hear he's pretty amazing.”
“Kind of scary actually,” Stephanie agreed quietly. “He used to be intelligence, like the top secret, dangerous mission kind of intelligence. I wouldn't have believed it but what he can do with encryption and what he's been able to figure out from the little we know about the killer aboard is amazing.”
“Oh? Do you know who it is yet?”
“No, only that he's not doing it randomly, he's only after Order of Eden freaks and he's really, really experienced.”
“All the more reason to stay here, surrounded by witnesses,” Ashley said as she pulled her vacsuit up under her towel.
“So you're actually going to stay in the bunks.”
“Well, yeah. Besides, maybe I can clear some time and set up to fly with Ronin.” She sealed the vacsuit up most of the way and put on some lipstick and eye liner.
“You mean Minh, everyone on the bridge calls him Minh.”
“I like Ronin. Find anything else out about him?”
“I'm Chief of security.”
“Yeah, so?”
“I can't use that information for personal reasons.”
“Oh come on! If you can't get the goods on your crew mates what good is being Chief? Besides, I have to know who I'm flying with.”
“Good point. You have the access, why don't you look him up?”
“He might check his Crewcast logs and see that I've been looking at him.”
Stephanie rolled her eyes. “You know you're not in high school anymore, right?”
“I never went. Is this what it's like?”
“Rampant insecurity and raging hormones? Yup.”
“I thought that was pregnancy.”
“Nope that's morning sickness, swollen feet, constant trips to the bathroom and raging hormones.”
“Right, gotcha,” Ashley followed Stephanie to the lift, waving at a group of pilots just coming in from being on standby for the last shift. “So, you and Frost?”
“He was over last night. Bugger refuses to take the foot medical grew for him. He won't take anything our new Chief of Medical made for him because she's nafalli. I told him she just started the whole process, that humans took care of the rest because she can only put in half shifts but he won't listen.”
“Oh, so you two are back together.”
Stephanie gave Ashley a wilting look as the lift doors closed. “He was over last night.”
“Oh, all night? Okay, I guess that's back together. He doesn't know about you and Captain?”
“No, and he won't. It's just not worth the grief.”
“I'd tell him. If it's meant to be he'll just go blow off steam and come back. Besides, you were kind of on a break.”
“Not really.”
“Well, he pissed you off.”
“That's not any kind of reason to-” the lift doors opened to admit three maintenance members laden with tools and a cart with spare parts. “well, it's not a good enough reason.”
“True.” Ashley nodded. “Just trying to be on your side.”
They were silent until they arrived on the command deck. It was obvious that important things were about to happen. The hustle and bustle of people moving between communications, conference rooms, flight control and the bridge was intense. They strode across the dark decked concourse and through the officer's observation lounges automatic double doors.
There were only a few seats left, the rest were filled with command deck personnel who were organizing transmission packets and having a bite before their shifts began. The pair looked around and spotted a small two seated table beside the transparent outer hull. On their way to their seats they stopped at a materializer where Ashley ordered a tall, steamy blended coffee and a morning meal bar for them both.
The blue topped, glossy table for two reflected the dim light shed by the asteroid field outside. Black, grey and white; the expansive, quickly rotating field of stone and ice stretched well out of sight. Some kind of gravitational source had directed it to settle into a thin, circular shape.
The light reflected towards them was from a distant dwarf star. Observation areas that faced the rear of the ship would have a clear view of it and the shadow of the planet nearest as it crossed in front every three hours.
Ashley sipped from the safety cup and sighed. “I can't believe the blends Ayan programmed into the fabber. I've never seen a hazel nut, but it's like she reinvented coffee.”
“I can't believe they call materializers 'fabbers' on Earth,” Stephanie smirked.
“It's a lot easier to say than; 'materializer' or 'energy to matter fabricator' like some people do. It's catching on too, I even heard Captain say it yesterday.” Ashley brought up the social display on her thin, five centimetre wide comm unit.
“Thirty eight messages?” Stephanie boggled. “You weren't kidding when you said you were starting to get popular.”
“There are what, three thousand people on the ship? I'd have to be a hermit not to have a few.”
“I think I got four yesterday, one was from Laura, another from March and the other two were people who were trying to apply for security positions. I've had to cut several of my security people's access to Crewcast off during their shifts. People are obsessed. I don't see the point, really. If I wanted to hang out with crew members I'd rather do it face to face.”
“Aw, don't be bitter. You'll have more than you can handle before you know it. I can see why you'd have a harder time getting to know people on the ship though, you are the head of security. People just have to notice you're not a buzz kill. Oh, and what did March want?”
“To give me crap for revoking his certifications. I told him that if he cheated on his qualifiers then there's no way he's getting out of grade one maintenance.”
“Oh, so that's where they put him.”
“Yup, he's carting equipment around, hauling refuse to mass converters and cleaning the last few unexplored parts of the ship. Captain assigned him the rank of Crewman's Mate.”
Ashley chuckled to herself. “I thought Crewman was the lowest rank. Serves him right for nearly blowing us up over Sheffield. Hope he likes being a maintenance monkey, I don't think he'll be getting promoted.”
“I thought you'd like that. He's still pissed though, and he's hanging out with Shamus now.”
“That's gotta be awkward.”
“He wants Shamus to set him up with you.”
“Hell no. Not in a billion, trillion, frivillion years.”
“I don't think frivillion is a proper measure of time,” Agameg said from behind Ashley.
“Just made it up. It means as long as anyone has ever imagined plus a day.” Ashley grinned up at him. “Steal a chair and have a seat.”
Agameg did just that and sat down with his chocolaty breakfast drink. “Finn is finishing the last trial of the wormhole transmission systems before the first burst transmission, he says hello.”
“I know, he sent me a message. I guess he didn't sleep last night.”
“He said he couldn't. When he found out Ayan wasn't going to take over the permanent installation of our stolen wormhole generator and hypertransmitter he started taking things much more seriously. He doesn't blame her, not with her and Laura working on enhancing the engine rebuild that's set to start as soon as we find a safe port.”
“Like he wasn't taking that thing seriously before? I don't think there's anyone who understands it better.”
“You may be right. Working with Chief Grady he even managed to get the micro fusion cells working with the rest of the ship, increasing our power output twenty percent while leaving enough independent cells inside the wormhole generator so it can power itself in an emergency.”
“I love having an escape route,” Ashley said. “I'm going to have to thank Finn after he gets a couple days sleep.”
“How are the repairs on the bridge coming?” Stephanie asked.
“They're finished. Ayan seems to know how to motivate people while maintaining good relations. Frankly I've never seen any ship so busy but people seem to be happy following her and Chief Grady.”
“Wow, that only took what, four days?”
“Three and a half. Everyone has already transferred there. It's like nothing happened only the ready quarters have been moved. They're on top of the bridge now.”
Ashley checked Alice's status and frowned.
“No change?” Stephanie asked, finishing the last bite of her breakfast bar.
“No, she's still out. Says here she might need some kind of synaptic therapy.”
“You can see that?” Agameg asked. “I was only able to see her basic status on Crewcast.”
“I guess Commander Everin added me to Alice's circle of friends when he set up the Crewcast system. I've gotta thank him for giving everyone this software, it's so much fun.”
“I think he set it up to make up for the lack of artificial intelligences aboard. There's no other efficient way to sort through waiting messages and other information.”
“It's so annoying,” Stephanie grumbled. “Shamus keeps looking up my location and leaving message bombs.”
“What's a message bomb?”
“He marks a place on the ship, records something and when I pass by it activates a message. I was on my way to the botanical gallery yesterday to check on Doctor Murlen's newest litter when out of nowhere an automated message comes through my comm.”
“What did it say?” Ashley asked with a raised eyebrow.
“It was obnoxious! You know, I understand why the automated message triggers can be placed, I've already used them to mark patrol routes for some of my people, but using them as message bombs-”
“Oh, come on, what did it say?” she interrupted, anxious and pounding her feet on the deck.
“It whistled and said; 'Nice tail!' I was so surprised I didn't realize it was over the comm and stopped in the middle of the main causeway, looking for him for a few seconds.”
“Classy,” Ashley giggled.
Even Agameg couldn't help but chuckle, squeezing his big, round green eyes closed to slits and huffing air. The fine tendrils adorning his face flipped and rippled.
“I swear he wouldn't know class if he were on a college campus.”
“But you like him, otherwise you wouldn't let him into your quarters.”
“Don't remind me,” Stephanie groaned.
Agameg looked at his comm unit. “They'll be completing the scan of the immediate area and starting the hypertransmitter systems in a few minutes. We should go to the bridge.”
“Do you think they'd mind? None of us are on duty,” Ashley asked. “I mean, I could just catch my comm update here.”
“All bridge officers, Commanders and Chiefs are invited.”
“Let's go.”
The bridge was only two doors down from the officers observation lounge. The large double doors had been rebuilt as sliding doors just as thick as the old ones. The antiquated arms that once pulled the thick armoured hatches out of the doorway and drew them aside were nowhere to be seen. The walls the doors slid into were much thicker, however. It was plain to see by the narrowing of the concourse as they reached the main secure upper entrance.
At their approach the heavy, meter thick ergranian enhanced armoured doors moved to the sides, their passage along the smooth slots in the floor and ceiling was accentuated by a slight rumbling underfoot.
All three of them couldn't help but stare at the wonder of the rebuilt bridge. Most of the damage had been done to the bow conference room and the bridge office beside it. The colour chosen for the semi-transparent deck plating was crimson. The crew stations and other fixtures, including the captain's chair had been made to match with seat padding furnished in jet black.
There was a wall of holographic status reports between the four command seats flanking the captain's chair and the other stations. The walls made the entire place look like it was made of windows, convincingly displaying the vista around the ship, including the ceiling. The field of stars above Triton was breathtaking.
The main bridge was fully crewed with Captain Jacob Valance in the centre. To his right was Ayan in a variation of the black vacsuit Triton uniform. She wore a long grey coat that was open at the front enough for all to see that she was as well armed as any crew member with a heavy side arm strapped to her leg. It was cut for style as well with long lines to make her look taller.
To Captain Valance's left was Terry Ozark McPatrick, or Oz as people had come to call him. Commander Jason Everin was beside him, working at a holographic interface and two dimensional panel that was attached to the bottom of his seat with a thin arm.
Holographic representations of other key crew members such as Engineering Chief Grady, Lead Technician Finn and Gunnery Chief Frost were distributed along the edges of the bridge. All together there were another dozen crew members on that level, and when the trio looked down through the semi-transparent floor there was another area entirely.
The flight control Centre was located below the main bridge and could be accessed via two man ramp ways or through the secondary command deck just beneath them. That was where any ships around Triton were directed from, fighter missions were observed and many other off ship endeavours were monitored. They had very little to do with the activation of the hypertransmitter systems that would open hundreds of miniature wormholes near the ship so they could communicate effectively with the known galaxy but they were quite busy nonetheless.
There was something going on, something very interesting that few people outside of the flight control Centre knew about. Anyone who had spent time on the temporary bridge knew that it was important, however, and that it warranted the first mass mobilization of Triton fighters and gunships. Chief Angelo Vercelli sat in the centre seat beneath. He was positioned so the Captain could look down and see his control and monitoring systems and the Flight Commander.
Oz would be taking over after the hypertransmitter was brought on line so he could personally oversee the direction of traffic around the ship and help direct the Wing Commander's mission. Everywhere the trio looked there was something interesting going on, some different activity that interacted with the most exciting morning Triton had seen since anyone had gotten aboard.
“I thought you'd be here,” Larry, Ashley's copilot said as he came to stand beside her. “Ready to dodge asteroids all day?”
“We're not going in are we? The flight plan said-”
“No, but they've been talking about taking Triton closer to the edge and skirting along so it's harder for Regent Galactic or anyone else to pick us up at a distance.”
“Sounds fun,” Ashley smiled.
“I thought you'd say that. It'll be just you and I at the helm for the first six hours.”
“Just the way I like it. No newbie navigator to yap in my right ear. Whose joining us late in the shift?”
“Warren. That is if we're not pulled to prevent fatigue.”
“Oh, good, he's not bad.”
“Yup, he's getting better. Who are you transmitting to?”
“A few old friends. Just want to see if they're okay. You?”
“I have an uncle who settled coreward, he'll probably be happy I'm all right.”
“Probably?”
“He's a bit of a recluse. We haven't been too chatty for a few years.”
“Ah, well at least you have someone. I'm surprised at how many people just don't have anyone to send a message to.”
“Well, the war comes with a cost. Looks like they're about to start things off.” Larry nodded towards the centre of the bridge and the command seat where Captain Jacob Valance was standing. A whistle sounded over the ship wide communications network, indicating that the Captain or commanding officer was about to address the ship.
Silence fell over the bridge and flight control centre. “Soon communications between Triton and the civilized worlds will be something we take for granted,” Captain Valance started, hoping he sounded pleasant but authoritative. There were fifteen essential crew members on the bridge and another ten non-essential onlookers. “But today we're taking three big steps that will make this ship feel like a home. Most of the messages you've sent to our comm office will be forwarded to their destinations after our new hypertransmitter comes online for the first time. We'll reopen communications with those same communications hubs and major worlds to accept replies when we can. We'll also be downloading news packets, entertainment and any messages that are addressed to registered members of the crew. Your comm units will be updated as we scan and clear incoming data.
The next first step we're taking today is the deployment of a full fighter wing and our larger refitted combat vessels led by Wing Commander Minh-Chu Buu. Those of you who lurk and compete in the training simulations would know him as Ronin. There are raiders attacking the station we've come to trade with and we plan on making a good impression. When we've secured the area we'll begin replacing the pair of primary thrusters that have been offline since Pandem. Once those repairs are complete I can start fulfilling my promises to you. We'll bring the fight to Regent Galactic and the Order of Eden by using our communications systems and fighters to locate the enemy. I also promise that we'll try to find a port where everyone can at the very least take shore leave on a nice sandy beach or great big entertainment centre. Let's get to work. Triton!”
“ Triton!” Everyone within earshot called back. An enthusiastic cheer spread across the entire ship. Jake knew as he sat down that people were mostly excited at the prospect of leave, of better days and the rest of his speech had been informational as far as most of the crew was concerned. He didn't care, the confidence and order he'd seen fall into place since basic rank had been imposed along with some rudimentary military principles was worth celebrating as far as he was concerned.
It had been a busy time to say the least. As soon as he woke from utter exhaustion it seemed he was put to work. Triton spent two weeks in a wormhole en route to a broad, unnamed asteroid field that boasted several heavy points of gravity surrounding one large one. It was claimed by a fringe harvesting company called Orrico. He expected to be confronted when Triton arrived, and hoped that he could strike a bargain that would win them a safe harbour while they repaired two of their main engines. Alice's notes said it was a well hidden, well defended outpost. According to the scans they'd taken it was evident that the post and a large area around it was hidden and everything outside it was electronically dead.
There was wreckage of all size scattered throughout and around the gargantuan asteroid ring, more wrecked hardware than he'd ever seen Raiders leave behind. Something else had happened, and the key to finding the details was inside the protected area, Jake was certain. The wealth of raw materials in the asteroid belt alone would be good enough to feed their matter converters and if there was a place to hide in the middle of the field they could make repairs in peace.
He looked to Ayan, who had worked as hard or harder than anyone and looked like she'd gotten up several hours too early. He couldn't help but smile at her. Jake hadn't had nearly as much time as he wanted to spend with her despite his desire to get to know her all over again. The biggest problem they had was finding something personal to talk about. He had no problem talking about the ship, the crew, but he was conversationally clumsy whenever he tried to bring up anything personal. It wasn't like they were picking up where they left off. Most of what he knew about her had been learned through simulations when he was back on Freeground. They had spoken for years and met as avatars before they ever met in person. Even though he'd never forget the time they had together on the First Light it had been cut short. They still had so much to learn about each other and he had no idea where to start.
Oz was a different story. He'd seasoned, gained experience as a Captain of his own ship. To Jake's surprise he never showed dissatisfaction at being the First Officer of Triton. The easy relationship he'd formed with the man on the First Light reappeared within hours of serving beside him on the bridge. Theirs was an art of delegation and direction, each of them doing their absolute best to make sure that the Triton was safe, the crew was working at a sustainable pace, and that they had the right plans for the near future.
All the while they watched their friend, Minh-Chu Buu, who was in his absolute glory. With years of practice in hundreds of sims while he was adrift between the stars and experience before that in an actual starfighter he dove into the qualifications, the tournament ladder and the squadron training with the rest of the pilots. Their enthusiastic old friend found his way to the top in short order, and while it was evident that he'd honed his skills to a deadly point, he had also gained a keen understanding of strategy.
He was likeable, had the military training and discipline required for command and the few seasoned pilots aboard respected him. Jake appointed him as Triton’s first Wing Commander after ten days and charged him with the continued training and leadership of all the pilots aboard. It was an obvious choice to anyone who had jumped in on a starfighter or fleet combat simulation while he was participating.
After meeting with Liam Grady Ayan took a day to decide which project to work on. She undertook the daunting task of building replacement engines for the Triton. Six days of manufacture and assembly led to the pair of completed thrusters that filled the rear section of hangar three. They were ready to replace the thrusters Captain Wheeler had destroyed in their last engagement. When that was complete she involved herself with repairing the bridge and other complicated control systems. If she had time left Ayan would work with Jason Everin in composing several messages meant for the Freeground, Carthan and Timar governments. Her hope was to open a dialogue so she and Jake could form a relationship with them, whether it be for trade, privateering or an all out alliance. There was so much for her to catch up on that her gaze was constantly affixed to her comm unit. If that wasn't enough she also worked with Laura Everin, her long time best friend, to implement systems first used on The Needle into the main engines and other Triton propulsion systems. There was never enough time in a day.
Jacob couldn't help but think of Alice as they were about to start up the hypertransmitter systems. He had devised the plan behind the acquisition of the components required to build it but she rounded out the rough edges and created contingencies that were risky but worth it in the end.
There were five seats in the centre of the bridge, more than enough room for everyone he'd want beside him in the worst of times. Ayan, Oz, Jason and Alice. Of everything he'd gained thanks to his life after the First Light, she was the best. She had even topped off her plan to rescue him and the others from Pandem with a safe destination; an asteroid field well off the charts with a successful mining and trading operation perfect for extended repairs.
“You look light years away,” Ayan whispered to him as she double checked the power feeds leading to the main wormhole emitter systems using a holographic schematic.
“I think they're waiting for you to give the order,” Oz reminded him with a wry grin. “You're going to have to let me in on that thought later.”
Jake recovered himself and cleared his throat, focusing on the main holographic display arranged in a semicircle in front of the main command seating. “All stations ready?”
“All stations report ready,” Oz confirmed.
“Then flip the switch. Let's see what the galaxy's been up to.”
The Triton’s hypertransmitter systems came online soundlessly. Even though no one could see them with the naked eye everyone on the bridge knew that the stolen system was generating hundreds of micro wormholes a second, reaching out to distant solar systems, other hypertransmitters, space stations, digital way stations and major shipping lanes across the known galaxy.
At first a few messages trickled through, then Jason Everin's console lit up, followed by Jake's then Oz's and finally Ayan's. They were viewing a summary of collected data, hundreds of topics and titles scrolled by faster than they could read. Selecting one topic led to hundreds of subcategories that contained news reports, personal communications, financial reports, entertainment, purchasable designs, advertising and more advertising.
Jake checked his personal directory and caught names of people he'd come to know since he'd taken command of the Samson, a few law enforcement offices that wanted to offer him work as a bounty hunter or repossession agent and even a call to arms for the Triton herself which he promised himself he'd look into later. Then something he didn't expect caught his eye and he put his finger down on it before it could scroll up and out of sight. Captain Lucius Wheeler of the Order of Eden ship Saviour conducts a public execution of Triton crew members. It said. He tapped it open and glimpsed the face of a former crew member from the Samson, Silver.
Before anyone could see the small image he archived it. “Everything we're getting is quarantined, right?” Captain Valance asked Jason in a hushed tone.
“Yeah, why?”
“Nothing can slip out?”
“Not with the block in place on everyone's comms. Only senior staff can start receiving news, general entertainment and personal messages have to be scanned.”
Jake looked back and saw that the senior staff were just starting to receive updated news and new instalments from their entertainment subscriptions. He looked across the faces of the crew and spotted Ashley eagerly bringing up one major news and entertainment report after another. The small holograms that hovered over her comm unit would have been a little comical if he didn't know what she'd be stumbling upon. “Ash, shut down your comm unit please.”
She didn't look up at him at first, concentrating on the preview of a Hyper Pongo League game she was receiving instead. “Why? Something wrong with my comm?” Her expression fell in the next instant as she came across an advertisement for her ex-lover's public and evidently painful public execution. His holographic face was ragged, complexion sallow, eyes red, and his gums were receding terribly, bleeding openly. A set of cables had been drilled into his head like a crown. Another group had been driven into his neck, their entry points seeped with blood and pus. “Kill me, please kill me,” begged Silver quietly, barely moving his mouth. As Ashley watched a signal was delivered to his brain. The slack and exhausted face on her display contorted and screamed, howled with reckless abandon.
Ashley's eyes were instantly brimming with tears, her opposite hand went over her mouth and as the image faded to be replaced with the message; TRAITORS DIE, ONLY ON JUSTICE ONE, 2137, she shook her head in horrified disbelief. “Oh no, no no no,” she sobbed quietly.
Stephanie's arm went around her waist and she was guided to a side passage that led to the security office before anyone else, Captain Valance included, could get to her.
Jake made eye contact with Stephanie as she turned away and was reassured by her knowing nod. She'd take care of her more sensitive best friend, there was no one better on the ship. “Stop all justice feeds and archived programming,” he ordered Jason as he turned around.
“Already on it. We'll have a master copy of everything in digital quarantine. Two other people have seen that advertisement though, it's marked as high priority on at least thirty networks.” Jason was silent for several moments as he worked the semicircular holographic display in front of him, there was so much information scrolling no one else could keep up. He turned white and shook his head; “They tortured some of them to make effective commercials. I'm sorry Jake.”
“I should have seen this coming,” Jacob replied quietly, trying to help sift through the more sensitive data.
“Let's hope the few people who received that ad didn't know anyone from the Samson and just skipped through it.” Something else caught Jake's eye then and he brought up his financial information. He was confronted with a display filled with red marks. With a quick twitch of his finger he hid the financial report. “All right, have we sent all the crew's messages?”
“They're out.”
“Good, shut it down.”
“We planned for another nineteen minutes.”
“I said shut it down,” Jake reinforced firmly.
Ayan activated the kill switch for the wormhole system and it powered down. “On the brighter side, the test was a fantastic success.” The initial technical report on the wormhole systems started to come in, filling the air in front of her with electrical schematics, power readings, wormhole trajectory, compression and emitter stress data.
“We contacted over twenty thousand nodes anonymously and released our packets into the network without origin markings. The communications systems that picked them up will automatically mark everyone's messages with their origin markers and it'll look like the crew's messages came from everywhere at once,” Jason said as he confirmed that everything had been sent and accepted by at least one hypertransmitter node.
“Good. How often do large ships do that kind of thing?” Jake asked.
“All the time. Military ships, pirates, slavers, you name it. They all like to keep their positions on the hush so anonymous transmissions are a must if they have a big enough vessel.”
“I thought so. Send my congratulations to the crew and tell the flight deck to make final preparations to launch fighters. We need to clear out the raiders so we can make repairs and move on.”
“Aye,” Oz acknowledged, starting to stand.
Jake caught his arm and looked him straight in the eye. That expression was gravely serious.
Oz sat down. “Privacy mode, command seating,” he ordered the bridge systems. A visual blurring and audio obscuring field surrounded the five command seats at the centre of the bridge. “What's going on Jake?”
“There's more to the public execution situation. Wheeler. He's hunting down former Samson and Triton crew members and making an example.”
“Isn't Wheeler dead?” Ayan asked.
Jake didn't reply, only brought up a Justice One Station broadcast marked with the Regent Galactic and Order of Eden logo. As the program identification faded a gargantuan stadium appeared. It was marked with countless sponsor logos, even some of the front row attendants were covered with them. The green padded surface of the field surrounded a massive platform. Several humans hurried around, picking up what appeared to be small mechanical and organic parts from the synthetic turf.
“This is a half time show?” Ayan asked, quietly shocked and appalled as she pointed to the platform that had risen out of the centre of the field. It came equipped with a pit for musicians, trap doors, a long restraint rack with three prisoners under a black sheet and several heavily armed guards.
“Looks like it,” Jake muttered.
“What sport is the field set up for?” Oz asked, looking at the ruled sections of the field.
“Crush League Rugby.”
“I've heard of that. Cybernetics are legal and anything goes, right?”
“Yup. It's almost as popular as Hyper Pongo on the fringe,” Jake said absently. “There, there he is,” he commented as the holographic display focused in on a darkly dressed figure on stage. The caption beneath him marked him as Captain Lucius Wheeler, his grinning face looked over the tens of thousands who cheered at him expectantly. His dark hair was shorter, and he wore a Freeground vacsuit under a heavy black trench coat much like Jake's but it was impossible to identify him as anyone but Wheeler.
“So it's true, they weren't just faking him when the Saviour attacked the Triton.” Jason commented.
“They must have had a scan of him. According to the Wheeler who died here he was in Vindyne's inventory for a long time,” Jake added.
“Hello Segoma Five!” Wheeler called out as the band's pounding music subsided. The audience cheered with renewed gusto. “Welcome to the Order of Eden Half Time Show!” He waited for the applause, cheers and whistles to calm before going on. “I'm Lucius Wheeler, Captain of the Order of Eden ship Saviour and I have the pleasure of announcing the new most wanted man in the galaxy! Before I let you see the face of this traitor, let me tell you a few things about him. He was born on Freeground, an old trader station where people live hard, isolated lives and keep to themselves, hoarding needed supplies and overcharging travellers who are unfortunate enough to get caught in that area of dead space for food and repairs. I know all about it, after all, I was fortunate enough to escape about fifty years ago. This man is no brother of mine or friend to us, however. After getting kicked out of the military and assigned to a console to review manifests all day he gathered a group of friends together and commandeered an old destroyer that was about to be decommissioned. They called it the First Light and began a crime spree as pirates and looters. Eventually they were captured by Vindyne but instead of going quietly our man here released a virus into their computers and eventually escaped. That program, that very same program eventually evolved into the Holocaust Virus!” He exclaimed, outraged and thrusting his finger up into the sky. The audience was starting to rally, booing, hissing and shouting.
Wheeler let them go on, seemingly furious as he paced the length of the stage. With a surprising suddenness he stopped and whirled at the audience. “That's right! One man! One man with complete disregard for all his brethren removed the safety limiters on his personal artificial intelligence and unleashed it on the galaxy, ignoring the Eden Two Conventions and slaughtering billions! Our brothers! Our sisters! Our fathers and mothers died because this man did not want to face justice! He presents himself as a hero, a champion of justice and freedom and as soon as our own machines started slaughtering us he disappeared! But not before-” Wheeler took a breath and calmed down, addressing the audience in a conspiratorial tone. “-not before he could recruit hundreds of desperate souls. People who were unaware of his involvement, unaware that in truth he was the cause of their hardships. Most of them are aboard his new stolen ship now, the Triton, a ship he stole from a Sol Defence perimeter station. His new crew are serving him unaware that he has no way to pay them. Regent Galactic and the Order of Eden have frozen his accounts, petitioned the Core World Prime Justice to issue a galaxy wide search and destroy order and to review the evidence against him!” The crowd turned, cheering and beating a thunderous tattoo with their feet in the stands. “We didn't stop there! Today I have the pleasure, the privilege to present to you two Captains and a navigator who have willingly served the dread Captain Jacob Valance!” he whipped the sheet off of the restraint rack, revealing the stripped, emaciated forms of two women and a man.
“Oh my God, who are they?” Ayan whispered, shocked.
“The captains who retired from the Samson and bought my cargo haulers; Monica Albany of the Temperance, Tasha Pauley of the Bakersfield and my old navigator, Lawrence Silver. He and Ashley shared a bunk for a few months before he broke it off and left the ship when I quit hunting.”
“Poor girl, no wonder she couldn't keep it together.”
“You know the game!” The image of Wheeler exclaimed excitedly. “On your Civicomm you have the names and crimes they've been convicted of and it's up to you to decide which one gets a dose of pain or should be given the final, merciful jolt that will burn their brains from the inside out and end it all! Remember! It's not just your decision, only when seventy percent of the votes call for the death of one of Jacob Valance's co-conspirators will they be put out of their misery, so make sure you don't press that red button too early! Make sure the people watching across the galaxy see how we treat pirates, looters, and mass murderers. Anyone who signs up for his crew can expect the same! Now let's have it! Mob justice! Mob justice!” he shouted, raising his arms, clapping his hands.
The crowd joined in, calling for blood, stomping their feet to the rhythm of their repetition; “Mob justice! Mob justice!”
“I can't hear you!” Wheeler prompted tauntingly, cupping a hand behind his ear.
The stadium erupted with renewed fervour as his hand hovered over a large red button and the band struck up an upbeat marching tune. The prisoners behind were exhausted, their heads hung low, forced to stand upright in the rack restraints. The brown haired woman on the left wearily shook her head as the other two wept, their shoulders shaking, bodies trembling with fear.
Tens of thousands of people cheered as Wheeler's hand came down on the red button and the rack lit up. In the next instant the prisoners were twitching, writhing, incoherently screaming and wailing as the audience manipulated controls that sent pain to one of them at a time. Wheeler took a deep, slow bow as he was lowered into the stage.
Jacob turned it off, exhaling shakily. His jaw was clenched, eyes cold, his hands clutched the arms of the Captain's chair. No one had ever seen him that angry, few had ever seen anyone so angry in fact. Jake's gaze was fixed to a point somewhere in the air in front of him as he spoke quietly; “Repair the ship. Harvest what we need, open trade talks with the raiders or clear them out so we can work with the station. I don't care who we're dealing with, just get us back in shape. Tell the crew what they can expect if they're captured.” His head turned mechanically and those cold eyes met Jason Everin's. “Find Wheeler.”
“That transmission is four days old, he could be-”
“Find him!” Captain Valance shot to his feet and pointed at the front of the bridge, his outburst so sudden and furious that everyone on the bridge jumped. “If you can't find him then find us something to hunt down and tear to pieces! They want a menace? I'll give them one!” He turned and stalked off the bridge, his long black and crimson coat flipping out behind him.