It took everything Ashley had to keep the tears at bay as Larry showed her how to activate the Triton’s evacuation systems. Throughout the ship directions to the main hangar and operational docking points would appear on the floors. No one could get most of those automated assistance systems working while they were aboard the ship, and the fact that she was just learning about them as they were about to leave was almost too much to take. Zoe was back in her arms again, she knew something was going on, and silently looked from one person to the next.
If it weren’t for her, Ashley knew she’d be in pieces. David and Nerine had already gone to inform everyone of what was going on. She could hear them packing everything they could find in the medical bay onto rolling chairs, gurneys and into the few crates they had at hand.
“I’m not staying this time,” Larry whispered to Ashley as he finished his tutorial. Wherever the ship had emergency power there would be arrows and written instructions guiding everyone to docking ports or hangar decks. Carthan transports were already linking with the ship, and the first people they took were the captured Regent Galactic contracted soldiers.
“I thought this ship was your assignment?”
“She is, but I can learn a lot more by going to ground with your people.”
“Spying on us is more important than staying with the Triton? ”
“It’s hard to explain, Ashley. Citadel’s instructions to someone like me, so far away from the council, are layered. There’s a whole list of priorities to consider. I don’t know if you’d understand.”
Ashley looked at Larry as though seeing him for the first time. His condescending tone was insulting, yes, but she couldn’t help but be almost certain in her suspicions. He was lying to her. Anything he had told her, his promises, they could all be as substantial as smoke.
“Well, all the emergency systems are doing what they’re supposed to,” he said with a nod.
She had never been more nervous in her life as he watched him shut down the conference room table. He didn’t even look like he noticed her staring at him. “What’s so important about us?” she asked quietly. Zoe buried her nose in her hair and squeezed her neck. The toddler could tell something was going on.
“Ashley, I told you, there’s no time,” Larry said irritably as he turned towards her.
Just as she’d seen in numerous gun slingers movies, she jerked her gun from its holster and tried to pull the trigger.
“What the hell are you doing?” Larry shouted, rushing her over the table.
Ashley pressed her thumb against the safety and pulled the trigger again. Larry was caught right at the front of the disabling tangle of surging material. The rear half of the conference room was nothing but stretched strands of the stuff, and Larry hung unconscious in the middle.
Zoe looked at the mess, at first astonished, then, to Ashley’s surprise, she giggled.
“Fine, don’t tell me,” Ashley said, cringing at the sound of her own voice. The tears she held back rolled over her cheeks as she reactivated the safety and shoved the weapon back into its holster. Guilt at what she had done was strangely absent as she wiped her face and composed herself. She picked up the last duffel bag and strode to the door. It opened automatically at her approach. A pair of liberated slaves looked over her shoulder wide eyed and she said; “Don’t ask,” in a far more dire tone than intended.
Without hesitation she dropped her duffel bag, turned on her heel and hit the close and lock icons on the door panel. “Bye,” said Zoe in a sweet sing song squeak as the conference room doors closed.
Oz had won the crew an hour for the crew to gather their things and clear out of the Triton. He passed the word using Crewcast and then cleared out the few things he had in his quarters. He checked Jake’s quarters, his ready room, picking up a few things there and packed as many important looking articles from Ayan’s smaller quarters then made his way out of the command section. All their possessions amounted to two duffel bags and a medium backpack, all of which rested at his feet with travel tags he barely remembered spraying on with his command and control unit. He’d done it so many times during his Freeground Military career that it was reflex.
The main hangar was filled with crew members getting ready to leave. Most of them helped load survival gear, personal items and anything else they could manage to cram into a storage unit. Some of the crates were short enough to sit on, while the largest were three meters tall. Transports had started latching on to the rear airlocks, and at first the pilots were surprised to see more crates and bags than people. After seeing the irritated, lost and weary faces of their passengers, they abandoned any efforts at informing them that personnel were their priority. “This is a rescue mission,” one was overheard saying.
“This is an eviction,” shouted an incensed crew member. That drew attention, and few of the dozens of Triton crew who turned their heads cared about who said it. They regarded the pilot, who quickly realized that he could be in real trouble if he said or did the wrong thing. Wisely, he quietly returned to the airlock, and took refuge in his cockpit. After all, most of the remaining Triton crew were armed and fresh from a fight they universally felt should have won them the ship. All of it happened as Oz supervised from the sidelines. He, like most of the crew, was in shock. They had narrowly won the day, but an entirely different set of circumstances from a completely different entity were forcing them to surrender. As he checked to see if Ayan or Jacob were in communications range again, he asked himself what he’d do if he were in command of a law abiding fleet and ran across a crew running a stolen ship. He wouldn’t dare say the answer aloud, but it nested in his consciousness like an infected sore. The law says this ship should have been turned in as soon as it ran into any large law enforcement or military organization. If it came into the Freeground Docks, it would have been cleared of crew and reported to Sol Defence. If they didn’t pick it up after three years, it would either get absorbed by the military, decommissioned, or stripped of arms and put up for auction. He shook his head and watched as one of the airlocks closed and the transport detached, filled with cargo and crew. He was told they’d be holding position near the Triton while everyone finished loading. Then where will we go?
The constant, slight changes in air pressure resulted in a stirring that felt like a swirling wind. It felt strange across the stubble forming on the top of Oz’s head. The smell of ozone, a sure sign of a heavy fire fight, was carried through the air. Surprisingly, most of the other evidence of the violence that had taken place in the main hangar had been removed. The three ruined fighters, damaged equipment and dead crewmen had all been cleared away. The scorch marks on the deck and bulkheads were superficial. Most of them could be wiped away thanks to the resistant surfaces.
Assistant Deck Chief Paula directed the maelstrom with the assistance of the remaining deck crew. Oz tried to picture everything on its way out onto transports on the ground. He could see that the short Deck Chief had a method. She was setting all the packed crates into a certain order, and made sure a couple of her people would stay with each transport to carry her instructions out when they arrived. It was his officer training that kept him from getting involved with the minutia, but it was difficult not to when the alternative was supervision, which sometimes allowed for enough time to think about the long range implications of what was going on.
The arrival of Frost and the gunnery crew on the main hangar was a welcome surprise. They came down over the aft side of the ship carrying bulk containers. Oz watched as they came up one of the secondary elevators leading to the servicing hangar. There were over thirty loading suits left, and Frost wore the taller, armed encounter suit. The machine was pitted and scarred by projectile and heat weaponry, the cost of Frost unrelentingly leading the charge on the Enforcer. It carried heavy cargo containers in both arms, and limped, just like Frost did thanks to his prosthetic leg.
His people had done their part in collecting everything they could carry. Oz’s scanning systems informed him that Frost alone carried over four and a half tons of cargo, the rest carried half as much or more each in cargo and ammunition cases. A crowd of lesser armoured crew from the upper decks elevated into the main hangar next, they carried even more equipment between them, and all of it was from engineering stores. Parts, smaller fabrication machines, portable power units, and other semi-portable systems were carried off to the side in haste.
“Feels wrong looting our own ship, lad,” Frost said to him over a private channel.
“I know. I’ll do everything I can so we’re loading all this back up before you can climb out of that suit.”
“Aye.”
“How are things going on the upper decks?”
“Commander Everin’s gang are almost finished getting all the footlockers registered to living crew together, they should be down the shaft in a minute. Then they’re heading back up to clear weapons lockers and survival gear out of storage. He plans on working until the last minute. There’s not going to be much to look at when he’s finished. He should be down here soon. Said his people don’t need much help on the ransack.”
“What about the rest of the crew?”
“They’re takin’ armfuls from Everin’s people, when they get here things are gonna get stacked right quick. Need anyone to head into the ship and pick up some of the heavier gear? We’re all finished taking what we could from the upper decks.”
“Paula’s got operations here covered. Head into the manufacturing section and see if you can get one of the medium materializers or mass converters ready for transport.”
“That’s going to be murder to get out without pulling a few hundred bolts.”
“Cut the deck out from under it if you have to. Consider it a timed challenge. You have twenty minutes, tops.”
“Aye, we’re on it. Makes me wish Chief Vercelli were here, he’d have some idea how that’s done.”
“I’m just glad we still have Paula.”
“She’s a bit of a screecher, but I haven’t seen much better, fine replacement.”
“Oh, while you’re in the manufacturing bay, have any extra hands you see take finished work and stuff it into containers, we’re taking everything we can.”
“Aye, I’ll watch for guns and ammunition first.”
“Good thinking, Chief. Get to it.”
“Aye, Commander.”
The main freight elevator arrived with the third or fourth load of people from the lower decks, engineering and the Botanical Gallery. Everyone was laden with bags, personal items wrapped up in blankets, footlockers and bags of all different shapes and sizes. Just watching them join the growing mass of civilians and crew members was enough to emotionally exhaust him. Few people paid attention to Oz, standing about twenty meters away from the growing crowd. He served for such a short time on Triton that few, if any of the crew members had a chance to get used to him. Before the defence of the ship began all of the respect he enjoyed was borrowed, on loan to him from Captain Valance. Since then he’d managed to gain the respect or the security and gunnery staff.
If Frost didn’t have a bond with his people before, it was evident that he’d developed one since they started fighting. To watch them, loaders, mechanics and gunners, move from one task to the next like one coordinated unit was to see plain evidence of how they had come together. Chief Grady had united his technical teams, and led them in maintaining the security and functionality of the Triton’s critical systems. In situations where Oz was forced to use man power and firepower Liam Grady found ways to use doors, energy fields, and impassable traps. Trying to penetrate into the core of the engineering section of the ship became so dangerous, that the enemy had no choice but to turn their attention to the bridge. Agameg Price, not a Chief, but a versatile Lieutenant Commander, had gained the trust and allegiance of all the slave volunteers. Oz would have to find out where the shape shifter learned advanced ship combat tactics and how to keep so many people motivated under potentially confusing and terrifying circumstances.
“Is it all right if we begin grouping the civilians up so we can move them to the transports Commander McPatrick?” Asked one of the security staff from behind.
Oz thought for a moment. There was no contact from Jacob, Ayan, or anyone who had gotten free of the Triton early on. “Start organizing people into familial groups if you can. Don’t let them board the transports.”
“Familial groups?”
“Don’t split up families.”
“I know, but at most I think there are a few married civvies, not many whole families.”
“If people look like they want to stick together, make sure they stay together.”
“Aye, aye sir.”
The Triton soldiers he was seeing were a far cry from what they were before the fighting began. Those who survived had seen ship board combat that made everything any of them had ever experienced pale in comparison. The fighting was beyond Oz’s experience as well. Not even Pandem was as relentless, or as painful. The memory of his particle rifle rattling against his shoulder was so vivid that it was like a phantom sensation, real the instant he conjured it. The feeling of being shot, and the emergency medical technology kicking in at the same time as the emergency stasis drugs was at the top of his mind as well. He understood Jacob Valance more clearly than ever before. The man had died at least twice, and it must have been a mind blowing, life changing thing each time. The pain was only a notification that something had happened. When the pain stopped, the real changing experience began, and for Oz it was the fading of light from the outer edges, until all that was left were memories, concerns, and parting thoughts. His sisters, nieces, nephews, and the people he was failing filled his thoughts. Oz had heard some soldiers who passed the brink say it was about letting go, falling free from the world, but for him it was like trying to keep his head above water in a black sea, putting every ounce of effort into taking another breath, grasping at the fleeting light and finally fighting the terrible numbness.
His rational mind knew his heart had stopped beating, his wounds were too great for the medical system built into his ribcage using technology developed by Doctor Anderson and Freeground Special Projects, to heal while he was moving. Medication was being administered, what he was feeling may have felt like dying, but it was actually deep stasis. It didn’t make a damn of a difference emotionally. The lights were going out and he was being pulled out of the fight. When he watched the enemy commander raise his pistol and point it at his forehead, he was sure he had seen his last fire fight.
“Sir, the Clever Dream is incoming,” Announced one of the Triton security officers nearby.
Oz looked to the rear of the hangar and could see two armed transports docking, but that’s all. “Where are they?”
“Just caught a glimpse of them sliding into the landing bay below. They should be coming up the elevator soon.”
“Someone’s jamming their signal.”
“What should we do sir?”
Oz’s eye caught sight of the fellow, he was several meters away helping to organize the civilians and the first of the liberated slaves. His armour showed signs of repair, and his rifle the scratches, dents and burn through spots on the casing that told him he was looking at one of the security officers who had been right in the middle of the fighting. He could tell from the shrapnel pattern across his shoulder that it was Tim Vernon, one of the last surviving bridge security officers. “We make sure they’re safe and clear of any interference once they’re on deck.”
“Yes sir.”
There wasn’t much chance of random interference. The Carthans hadn’t put any armed personnel on the deck yet, and they hadn’t made any demands other than the general evacuation of the ship. Jason was right, this was political. Oz only hoped that they were doing the right thing by abandoning the best ship they had.
Ashley emerged with the next group on the cargo elevator. Zoe’s head swivelled to and fro, her eyes taking everything in from where she sat in the young woman’s arms. With an excited cry that Oz could hear from where he was standing Zoe nearly leapt out of Ashley’s arms, finding her way to the deck suddenly, roughly. To his relief, the youngster didn’t hurt herself in her haste, and she ran between the legs of started survivors.
In scant seconds she made it across the growing crowd of civilians to a woman with long dark hair who knelt down to catch the eager child. Zoe collided with the woman so soundly that she was forced from kneeling to sitting. It was the sight of a glad reunion.
That was until he looked back to Ashley, whose vacant arms were slowly lowering. In the corner of his eye, Oz could see the black hull of the Clever Dream rising on one of the main elevation pads, but his attention on Ashley was unwavering. He was watching her slowly fall to pieces as she hesitantly turned away.
A few worried looks followed her as she took hasty steps to an unmarked Uriel fighter that never made it to the loading rack. Oz caught up to her behind it. At first there was no recognition in her eyes when she looked at him. As soon as she realized who he was, she made an attempt to speak that fell apart before she could make a sound.
He took her shaking hands in one of his and wiped tears away with the other. “It’s going to be all right.”
“S-sorry, I should be happy. Crewcast said she was an orphan.”
He guessed she meant Zoe, who was in the arms of another adoptive mother in a loose hem dress over Ashley’s shoulder. “Children don’t forget us easily. She’ll know you whenever she sees you. Take it from someone with nieces and nephews who grow up while he’s away for months at a time.”
Ashley’s shuddering sigh was an attempt at relief, a failed one. He tilted her chin up so he could look her full in the face. “It’s going to be all right,” he repeated.
Her dark brown eyes averted his, rolling away and finally closing. “Everything’s been changing for so long, I wish it would just stop. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, where I’m supposed to be,” she wheezed.
Before his eyes Ashley was only getting worse. Her despair was becoming panic, and she was starting to hyperventilate. He’d seen someone fall apart before, when he was delivering the news that someone’s son, their child had died under his command. It didn’t matter how old the serviceman was, it was still a mother’s child, or a father’s son. Ashley was mourning something else, but it was just as damaging. Relentless uncertainty damaged people, it was something he knew, and he’d watched his mother suffer through it while his father as well as both grandparents served the Freeground military. His mother was committed for several weeks after his grandmother didn’t return from a tour. That was the beginning of Oz’s teenage years, when his grandfather retired from his term of service, and when he went to live with him.
It was a sequence of events that changed him forever, and for a long time it seemed like he was on unsteady ground. He reacted by rebelling, but the young woman in front of him was taking it differently. She was taking it exactly the same way his mother did. He pulled her into his arms and held her tightly.
“Ashley?” asked Liam Grady as he came around the rear of the Uriel fighter.
Oz was rarely so relieved to see anyone. Neither was Ashley, who gently extracted herself from Oz and practically fell into Liam Grady. He was wearing his robes over a thick, armoured vacsuit, and they closed around her like a blanket. “It’s all right. We’ll be off soon and onto solid ground,” he reassured her. “I hear the moon we’re heading for boasts a few beaches.”
Oz made eye contact with him and mouthed; “what about engineering?”
Chief Grady silently replied; “all set.”
The woman who Zoe had been so desperate to reunite herself with came around the rear of the fighter with the toddler in her arms. As soon as the blonde youngster saw Ashley she reached for her, and Ashley did her best to wipe her tears and straighten herself up at a moment’s notice.
“I’m Vivian, and I see you met Zoe,” presented the newcomer. “Thank you for taking care of her, I was frantic when I realized she ran back to the infirmary. The Botanical Gallery was closed off when we realized.”
Zoe patted Ashley’s face and smiled. “She’s very special,” Ashley sniffed. “Kept me company while I piloted the ship.”
“I adopted three from Pandem. Zoe’s the youngest, but she still runs circles around the others, they’re only human, after all.”
The scene was deeply touching, but more importantly, it was bringing the emotional storm Ashley was suffering through under control. Oz was more than relieved. They didn’t have enough pilots to get the last of their fighters off the deck as it was, losing her would mean one less pair of wings, and it would demoralize many survivors. Ashley was well liked, and people would share in whatever sadness she presented.
“What’s going to happen to us?” asked Vivian quietly.
“We’re headed to a land base that our command crew have established,” Jason said as he came into view. “They’re going to make room for everyone, and we’re taking equipment and supplies with us.”
“Why are we leaving?” she asked.
“ Triton is going to be inspected and serviced so we can register her with the Carthans,” he replied smoothly. There was no hesitation or change in his mannerisms as Jason delivered the outright lie. “We could be off ship for a few days, or it could be a couple months. We took a lot of damage. But on the brighter side we’ll have a lot of time on a terraformed moon.”
“Thank God, I might get a good night’s sleep.”
“Sorry to break things up, but if you could group up with a few people you know over there, and help take charge of the kids we can start organizing things so we can get settled down there as soon as possible.”
Oz watched Ashley as she planted a great big kiss on the top of Zoe’s head before waving and grinning at her. “See you soon Zoe!”
The youngster squeaked; “Bye!” as she was carried off towards the growing crowd of civilians. A young boy and girl watched wide eyed as they waited for Vivian to rejoin them.
“I’ll be okay,” Ashley whispered to Chief Grady. “Sorry I cracked up.”
“Don’t worry, I have three sisters. Freak outs like that used to happen weekly,” Oz reassured with a big toothy grin. “I have battle scars.”
“Ohmigosh,” she snorted.
She was a creature of emotional extremes. It might have been one of the reasons why he liked her, since two of his sisters were the same. As much as he wanted to spend time getting to know her a little better, the sight of the Clever Dream’s main debarkation ramp lowering reminded him that they were in the middle of a crisis. “First round’s on you when we manage to find a port tavern.” He said as he walked past her.
“Can’t wait to deliver on that,” she replied.
Jason was right on his heels. “This is like watching a star liner crash in slow motion. There’s enough firepower to vaporize the ship four times over pointed at us, and those armed transports haven’t even opened their inner airlock doors yet so we don’t know what kind of force they’re about to put on our deck,” Jason whispered irritably. “Any ideas cross your mind?”
Oz stopped a few meters away from the bottom of the Clever Dream’s debarkation ramp and watched Ayan, who was dressed in vacsuit with no extra armour. She wasn’t even carrying a sidearm, but her stoic expression and forceful march was enough to inform everyone who saw her that she was there with a purpose. Fourteen Triton troops in the heaviest armour available followed her in a double column.
“Someone was listening during the psyche portion of Officer Candidate Training,” Jason muttered.
“Your wife is waiting for you inside,” Ayan told Jason. “She’s missed you.”
“It’s mutual. I’m going to copy the data from the destroyer into the Clever Dream’s computer just in case. I’ll be watching from there.” Jason nodded and headed inside.
“I hope things are going better down there.”
Ayan gave him a warning glance that told him everything he needed to know about the conditions of their destination. It was so quick, and so close that only someone watching a close up on a surveillance feed would have caught it. “I’m just glad to see you safe and sound. Had some trouble staying that way though,” she plucked at one of the thinner parts of his vacsuit, where it had patched itself after he caught a round in the stomach.
“It’s been a hard ride.” Oz couldn’t help but notice that one of the guards in the middle of the group had a Spectral Dynamics Violator handgun in his holster, the favoured weapon of Jacob Valance. Other than that, there was no way to tell him apart.
“Have you met the locals?”
“I’ think we’re about to. You probably know more about this government than I do at this point, I think I’ll follow your lead.” He gestured towards the broad rear airlocks at the rear of the hangar. They were finally all open, and several military crew people were emerging. They wore grey and light blue uniforms, of an older style, but it was plain to see that they had a protective lining built in that would serve just as well as any basic vacsuit.
“Then fall in, Commander.” Ayan said with a crooked smile.
He fell in with the rest of the security detail beside Jacob, who gestured for him to pass into the middle of the detail. He was surrounded by guards.
At first the glances and stares that greeted Ayan were tinged with smiles, but there must have been something in Ayan’s expression that conveyed the seriousness of her purpose. Oz only wished he could see it. “Who is the commanding officer here?” She asked clearly and calmly. She had the attitude of someone who didn’t have to yell, didn’t have to demand, but expected that all her questions would be answered.
“I’m Fleet Warden Kimberly Harrison,” a woman with short cropped blonde hair said. She was thin and tall. “And you are?”
“Ayan, Commander of the Triton, Clever Dream and owner of a privateering fleet currently surrounding this ship. Why have you demanded that my people abandon ship?”
“Ownership of the Triton is being contested by a former Captain. He claims that it was pirated a short time ago. Do you have a warrant or order to repossess that could counter the claim?”
“Produce the accuser and I may consider your charge valid,” Ayan retorted casually.
The Fleet Warden turned towards the airlock behind her and nodded. One of her men shouted; “Captain, you’ve been requested.”
Oz watched the dark, plush interior of the armed transport over Ayan’s shoulder. He could hear someone walking slowly down the aisle towards the airlock opening. First came the Freeground style, dark military boots. It was said that Freeground combat boots were made so well that when a pair of structural engineers were struck full on by a solar flash, they were identified by the serial numbers on their soles. The hem of a dark imitation trench runner’s long coat followed. It was made in the style of the type old Earth infantry once wore during an almost forgotten war. It was made to deflect most projectiles of the day, and to serve as a blanket during long nights in the post nuclear war trenches.
Oz’s stomach tightened in a knot, and he made a conscious decision that was counter to his greatest desire. A silent step placed him at the side of the man who was carrying a Violator handgun. He recognized Lucious Wheeler at the sight of his jaw line and, just like he’d seen in footage of Jacob Valance’s bounty hunting days, Oz made sure his hand was pressing down on the hilt of the other man’s sidearm before Jake could draw.
He beat him by a split second, and when Jake’s blackened visor, adorned with the blood red skull mark of the Triton boarding team, looked at him, his heart jumped. In that moment he was grateful he couldn’t see Jacob Valance’s bare face.
Ayan was more composed, and cleared her throat loudly. She couldn’t keep her eyebrows clear of a scowl, but the rest of her face was surprisingly passive. “Secure arms,” she said flatly.
“You wouldn’t want to kill a Carthan asset, now would you?” Lucious Wheeler said as he stopped at the inner door of the airlock. “Ayan, I see you’ve made some changes. Too bad you’ve lost your figure. Any chance I’ll get to meet your better half? I see his First Officer here, he can’t be far off.”
Flushing involuntarily from the barb, Ayan ignored Wheeler entirely. “Fleet Warden, this man is not to be trusted. He was an ally of Vindyne, a subsidiary of Regent Galactic. He’s also not the original Lucious Wheeler, who was killed aboard. If the original Lucious Wheeler were here, I’d advise that you arrest him, because he stole this ship from the Sol Defence fleet. He has no claim to this ship, whereas the Aucharian government recognized the Triton as a war time capture and registered it under Jacob Valance. He then made myself and Terry Ozark McPatrick Commanders under him. In his absence, legal ownership in the nearest sector falls to us.”
“I’m afraid that’s not something that will be decided here, Commander Rice.”
“They know all about all my associations, darlin’. I’ve traded my way to their side, and Triton’s a part of that sweet deal, so it’s time to hand over the command codes.”
“Making this personal won’t help anyone Wheeler,” chastised Fleet Warden Harrison. “I’m afraid he’s right, however. I’m here to take possession, and I’ll need the command codes.”
Ayan looked her straight in the eye. “Never,” she said so quietly that Oz had to strain to hear her. “You can remove us from this ship, but you’ll never get the command codes. You’ll also be rushing hundreds of people from their homes aboard this ship, people who are armed, and will be painfully aware that the Carthan government traded their home in a dirty deal with the enemy. We don’t have room for them all on the ground, and they’ll rally. They’ll gather around someone who doesn’t hesitate when it comes to fighting a corrupt government.”
“You mean Jonas Valent,” Wheeler interjected.
“I’ve never met a man by that name on this ship,” she enunciated coldly.
“You’re not getting this ship for free, either.” Her attention focused on the Fleet Warden, whose eyes had narrowed, and jaw had set. “If you’re forcing us to abandon Triton, it’s going to cost you dearly. That is, unless you’re willing to do the intelligent thing and turn this stray out. Whatever information he’s offering you is tainted, I’m certain of it.”
“The Defence Minister himself brokered this deal, Commander… Ayan. Your people are going to have to leave within the time allotted or we will use force.”
The pair locked eyes for a long moment. Oz watched them closely, keeping Wheeler, whose smile was fading slowly, in his peripheral. Jake had relaxed, and Oz let go of the man’s sidearm, trusting that his long time friend would let Ayan handle the situation.
“We’ll leave peacefully, consider it a gift. I’ll expect you to offer us a fair trade for Triton’s value.”
“Without command codes.”
“With consideration to the hardship you are forcing on her crew, the civilians we were protecting and our passengers. You’ll compensate us or we’ll take whatever I decide is fair value for this ship using other methods.”
“Was that a threat? I can have your licences and permits revoked.”
“You won’t.” Ayan said conversationally. “If you cancel all your beaurocratic strings we’ll have no reason to do anything your way. Besides, you need people like us to fight this war our way, because if you’re employing people like Wheeler, you’re going to lose.”
“They don’t owe you anything for this ship. It was never yours. Now give me the command codes,” Wheeler growled.
Ayan didn’t so much as acknowledge him. Instead she calmly stated; “I expect you to transmit your compensation proposal for the full value of this vessel by the time we land on Tamber.”
“What about renegotiating the terms of your privateering licence? I’m sure we can make some adjustments for you.” replied the Fleet Warden.
“What? These people are nothing! You can’t be considering accommodation!” Wheeler objected.
Oz watched as Ayan proved to him and everyone else there that she had passed from being an intelligent young woman to a great lady. “I expect to be vastly impressed. You had better include land grants, and don’t leave out the signing bonus.”
“I’m telling you these people are just squatters and mercenaries. I bet you Valent is right behind her. If you order them to show you their faces you can capture him and present him for trial yourselves,” Wheeler ranted.
Instead of letting her temper get the better of her she smiled, held her head high and turned back towards the Clever Dream. Her squad of guardsmen began to turn to follow her until Oz watched Jake raise his hand slowly. Instead of stopping him Oz followed his lead. Jake’s fist formed into a finger pointed at Wheeler. The thirteen other guardsmen and women followed suit, and for a long moment they all pointed at Lucious Wheeler.
“There! As if you need more evidence!” Lucious shouted.
Other crewmen and women who saw the gesture followed suit, their eyes cold. The hate was so thick in the air Oz found himself breathing more heavily, wondering if he could get a kill shot off and run for cover before the Fleet Warden’s people could return fire. Wheeler backed away until he was out of sight.
Jacob Valance led the group as they turned and followed Ayan back to the Clever Dream.
“What are our options, Jason?” Jake asked as he reached the inner leisure compartment of the Clever Dream. The false portholes brightly displayed the active hangar. The Fleet Warden and her people retreated. They were replaced by several squads of Carthan soldiers, who marched to the far end of the hangar and remained there in formation. It was a form of showing a presence, and after a few minutes no one so much as looked at them. Civilian refugees and the former slaves that were too weary to help were gathered to one side of the docking bay near the only working cargo elevator. Everywhere else you looked, people were loading equipment and supplies into crates, piling cases and bags, or working to get things into position. Paula had managed to direct what was left of her deck crew to hand crank two Uriel fighters down from the racks along the side of the hangar, leaving two more hanging near the ceiling. She and a few of her more practised deck hands were desperately trying to keep things organized.
Ayan, Jason, Laura and Minh-Chu were all gathered around the table at the centre of the lavish entertainment compartment inside the Clever Dream. The holographic display system was hard at work showing different profiles, criminal charge listings, and legal reference material. Oz was hot on Jake’s heels, the rest of the guards had remained on the lower deck of the Clever Dream, ready to mount a defence or help load supplies.
“Legally, this is a huge mess. I’ve already filed a claim on the Triton in Ayan’s name, but they’ll reject it, she didn’t have her privateering licence at the time of capture and I fulfilled my due diligence, which in this case is finding out if Sol Defence has reported the Triton stolen or issued an order for its recapture.”
“What about piracy charges?”
“Oh, they’ve got you there. If they arrested you on piracy you’d either spend months defending yourself in court and get acquitted or you’d be convicted and executed.”
“Surprise, surprise. All right, how much power does Ayan have?”
“A lot less than I pretended to,” she sighed.
“Pretty amazing negotiation, by the way. Where did that land grant idea come from?” Oz asked as he stopped to stand next to her. He squeezed her shoulders affectionately. “Who’d of thought our little Sunspot would grow into someone with such a commanding presence?”
“Better late than never. I’ve been working on getting things set up on Tamber since I knew there would be damage to the Triton. I didn’t expect this though, I don’t think anyone did. I’m just glad we have something to our names without her.”
“Wheeler, I can’t believe he’s here, or something that looks and acts like him is here,” Jacob said, shaking his head.
“God, I’ve never wanted to throttle someone so badly,” Ayan added.
“Couldn’t tell. You kept your cool better than anyone.”
“Thank you. I still think bringing you was too much of a risk. You were right before, you should be in hiding.” She told Jacob.
“Him? Hide? Fat chance,” Minh scoffed. “I’m just surprised he’s taking this so well.”
“I made sure I calmed down before I came to this table.”
“I saw that pointing antic before I made it to the loading ramp. You could have cost us the little traction I had with that commander.” Ayan told him levelly.
“Fleet Warden. It’s similar to Admiral in rank. She’s right on both counts though. As much as I want to toss Wheeler out of the nearest airlock, I took a serious risk with that move. There are still prices on the Samson crew’s heads, so we’ll at least have to hide them while we appeal for the bounties to be cancelled.”
“That shouldn’t be much of a problem, especially since the Carthans didn’t try to arrest you here. It’ll take time though.” Jason mused. “I’m going to set up fake idents for you and your old crew so they can move around a bit. They might be able to show their faces with new names and a DNA mask built into their vacsuits, but you’re screwed unless you go get facial reconstruction, which might not work because you have a healing problem.”
“Never thought that would be a problem, but you’re right. You’ll make at least a dozen new best friends out of the Samson crew though.”
“It should be an easy job, especially if there are a lot of new people coming into the Rega Gain system.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” Ayan added.
“Good.” Focusing on the fine details of the situation helped. All he wanted to do was storm off the Clever Dream and open fire on the Carthan soldiers, the Warden, and make sure Wheeler died last. If it was him in a framework body, then he could experiment. Ever since he found out that he was a human of synthetic origin himself, he wondered what it would take to kill him. Wheeler provided the perfect test subject. He shook it off and took a deep breath before continuing. Ayan’s hand crept around his waist. “What about the fighters? Do you think we’ll have to surrender them to the Carthans?”
“Just having them could have exposed the pilots and Ayan to grand theft charges. If they wanted to arrest anyone, they would have” Jason replied.
“They gave me registration papers instead.” Ayan added.
“Well, then the Carthans are on our side, but quietly. They want to please Wheeler because they actually think he has something important. If it weren’t for him, I’m pretty sure we’d be fine. Better than. As it is, I’m hoping filing a complaint will tie the Triton up in the docks instead of letting Wheeler have her outright. The Carthans are stepping lightly. I suspect, no, I’m sure that’s why they’re not sending a huge boarding effort aboard to control our retreat and minimize looting.”
“That, and two thirds of the people here are ready to raise their rifles. We’ve already proven that we can defend the ship deck by deck,” Oz stated as a matter of fact. “It’s the external firepower that we can’t deal with. How long are they giving us?”
“The clock is running. We have forty two minutes left to clear the Triton of all personnel,” Jake said. His voice was tight, it was impossible to hide how he felt completely. “Is there any way we can lock down the Triton? ”
“I thought you had the command codes?” Oz asked.
“We have a command code chip,” Jake said, pulling a small golden rectangular necklace out from under the collar of his armour. “It gives someone control over the Triton’s higher functions, but there’s no way to know what the codes actually are. Anyone can slip this chip into a command console and take control of the ship, unless someone who actually knows the encrypted passwords comes along and overrides it.”
“So someone from Sol Defence could just come on in and take control without that.”
“Yup,” Jason confirmed. “As far as I can tell the command pass is alphanumeric, anywhere between eight and one thousand twenty four characters and encoded to someone’s DNA. I doubt anyone has had this ship running at full efficiency since she was stolen. Even Lewis has tried to hack in, didn’t get past the first layer of the computer’s central processor security. It’s almost as bad as the Carthan’s network.”
“I’ve tried several times, and beyond grading the security quality of the various departments, I have no information to offer.”
“Don’t try to break in again, Lewis. Ever,” Jake told the artificial intelligence, looking up at the middle of the room.
“I was not detected.”
“That doesn’t matter. If their defence systems get a whiff of you, just enough to realize an intelligent AI is crawling around, you’ll bring the entire Carthan military down on us,” Ayan explained. “They’ve outlawed Artificial Intelligences completely.”
“You’ve also made the Holocaust Virus as part of your core program,” Jason added.
“So I can cure other aritificial intelligences and protect myself,” Lewis countered.
“That’s commendable, but if the Carthans see that code-“
“They’ll assume I was the initial carrier of the virus, and they would be partially correct. I did carry the virus to Pandem, after all.”
The room fell silent. Jake suspected he was the initial carrier, the time line was a match, but he didn’t want to know for certain. “Just don’t initiate contact with any military network, or any other system unless we order it, and don’t tell anyone else you delivered the virus to Pandem. We understand, you weren’t in control of yourself and you’ve corrected your programming. Others won’t.”
“Understood, sir.”
Jacob sighed, trying to put the lecture he wanted to give Lewis aside and went on. “So, could the Carthans get control of Triton as is?”
“I doubt they ever will. Chief Grady’s implanted a series of packets that will kill the organic circuitry and he’s got the reactors hard wired on a feedback loop,” Oz added.
“How do they activate?” Ayan asked, surprised.
“As soon as someone tries to bring Triton’s main systems online it all goes into motion. The reactors start overloading, and the command systems will begin to fail. He made sure it would take a close visual inspection to tell if there’s anything wrong.”
“All right, so, when someone tries to start her up, the reactors and main control systems will burn out. How long would it take to repair?” Jake asked. The thought of destroying the primary systems of the greatest ship he’d ever seen made him feel ill.
“The reactors would have to be rebuilt from scratch, same with the primary computer systems. The core is isolated though, so that’s a mercy.”
“So in dry dock it would take six months?”
“If they have a specialist who understands how the bioelectric systems work and can manage to grow replacement materials then it could take three with their facilities. Without a specialist they’d have to replace the computer systems ship wide.”
“Chances are they can get a specialist.”
“I’d say so.”
“Then let’s take things a step further,” Jake said darkly. All eyes were drawn to him. “Send a message to Sol Defence. Tell them we found their ship and the man who stole her.”
“You’re joking,” Laura burst.
Oz, Minh and Ayan started smiling. “That’s going to make things very interesting for the Carthans,” she said quietly.
It was obvious that Jason’s mind was busy at work. “I’m going to send a compressed version of the command logs since you captured her from Wheeler, Jake. The best way to avoid blowback from this is to make sure they know everything about us and what we’ve been doing with the Triton since you took possession.”
“I think Sol Defence will approve,” said Liam Grady from the entrance. “You won’t have their endorsement, but they won’t press charges against you for taking command of one of their ships. Especially since you weren’t responsible for her initial theft and you’ve rescued thousands of refugees, freed half as many slaves. We’re going to lose her though, and for good if my guess is right.”
Silence fell over the room for a long moment. “It was a dream,” Minh said finally. “A new day brings new opportunities.”