Crestone leaned over and whispered into Euphrete’s ear, “Trash diving in space, now that sounds fun!” Both men snickered.
“Gentlemen!” Captain Blanchard admonished, causing Crestone and Euphretes to straighten up and recover their composure.
“Fast forward again one more time to the day of the attack, jump day eighteen. Our infiltrator on Demon’s Reckoning walked right into the Ship’s Central Processing Unit; and in less than three seconds, walked right back out. In that short amount of time, he unleashed something into SR66 capable of shutting down the RAI and corrupting the entire Ship enough to prevent it from taking any form of evasive action.”
“Excuse me,” Euphretes interrupted, “But can you please expound on that? Because last time I checked, our Ship Builders have built in enough fail safes and protocols into every Fleet Vessel to not only make what you just said impossible, but so impossible that that type of attack hasn’t been attempted in at least eighteen or nineteen hundred Custos years.”
Thankful he was briefing about his area of expertise, Remming drew a breath to thread together a response that his audience would understand. “Yes Sir, you’re correct to say that hijacking a Huron Fleet Vessel hasn’t occurred in a long time, two thousand eight hundred and seven Custos years to be exact. But perhaps that’s exactly how they found a way in.”
“We stopped trying to break into the impenetrable vault,” Euphretes wondered.
“More like we forget what’s inside the vault.”
“Complacency in our war-games,” Crestone thought out loud, filling in the intentional silence left by Remming. His words hinted at far more than the five words he just uttered.
The Huron Military’s Ship’s Central Processing Units were once claimed to be impossible to corrupt or hijack. However, the Huron Military’s continued confidence in that “fact” ended up building a deadly habit of laziness. Rather than put resources into hijacking a Fleet Vessel’s primary RAI, when they “knew” it would end up in failure, the vast majority of units going through major Joint Training Exercises didn’t even make an attempt. Unfortunately, as technology progressed over the years, the lazy habit had grown to the point of blind arrogance. What should have been figured out and solved internally during a Joint Training Exercise had become a blindside attack that cost the lives of thousands of soldiers.
Fortunately, the breach in protection was a relatively easy fix and could be made in seconds with the Huron’s advanced RAIs, preventing any successful future attempts. While inconsequential in terms of grand strategy, and seen as an overall failure in the eyes of Indus, the Baikal attack knocked the Huron Military’s pride and confidence into the dirt for the first time in millenniums.
Commander Remming nodded his head, “Correct Senior Op. Fortunately, with the assistance and cooperation of SR6 and the other Fleet Vessel RAI’s on which to test our theories, we were able to develop a simple firewall to stymie any future Dealgorizing Viruses.”
“They breached Demon’s Reckoning’s CPU with a Dealgorizing Virus?” Euphretes thought to Neuma, unsure whether to be ashamed of his Empire’s Military or fearfully impressed with his enemy’s.
Feeling the unease, “Chalk it up to a combination of inattentive oversight on our side and an enemy who just happened to find an advantage and exploited it.” Surprisingly, Neuma’s words calmed the paranoid thought processes starting to kick into overdrive. By reminding Euphretes that War was as ugly as it was predictable, he settled down.
Commander Remming subconsciously puffed his chest as he explained his and his team’s success. “The installation instructions for the new firewall have been disseminated and are already being installed by eighty percent of our entire Royal Fleet Combat Team’s Fleet Vessels. Because we currently have several Combat Teams in transit over to the front, the rest will be done over the next thirty days.”
Crestone breathed a sigh of relief, “Roger. Thank you Commander. And a job well done, to you and your team.” Despite being thirty feet away, Euphretes could feel the surge of positivity and confidence taking place in Remming’s aura.
“Too easy Senior Op, I’ll pass that along,” Commander Remming answered. He was beginning to get frustrated that the stowaway hadn’t been found as he was about to wrap things up. “Fortunately, whoever attempted to hijack Steadfast and Loyal didn’t think about the Ship having increased security measures and slightly more efficient operating systems. In fact, in case you aren’t aware, SR6’s CPU doesn’t need its own chamber and cooling mechanisms like the ones found on our Predators.”
“The line between life and death that we just straddled is one I don’t care to ever experience again,” Neuma confessed to her partner, who could only answer with a simple,
“Yeah, I agree.”
Remming continued to explain, “On the day of the attack, he also didn’t factor in the Flagship’s size. While he ended up where the CPU is normally located on our Predator Class Ships, he was exactly one hundred paces too high and not even on the correct deck to access it. We were able to bring up archival sensor data of that time and sure enough, our stowaway crawls around the super structure for two hours before giving up and going back into hiding.”
“So close yet so far away,” Euphretes heard Crestone chuckling, the experienced NCO finding humor in the situation, part of his internal defense mechanism.
“Well Sir, that’s all I have,” Remming said with a shrug. The Captain quickly shuffled next to the Commander to face Euphretes and Crestone. “Unfortunately, it seems our stowaway has eluded capture thus far; frustrating, but to be expected considering he has found a way to stay an enigma this entire time.”
“Wait a second. How long has he been on the Ship?” Euphretes asked, trying to make calculations in his head.
“Well, I’d say about twenty Custos days Sir”
Euphretes was befuddled. “The guy’s gotta eat, right?”
Remming sighed with the slightest sign of frustration, “Keep in mind, Sir, that no one knew he was on board. As long as he wore his equipment around the Ship, he could move about, get food, even take a shower for God’s sake, and nobody would notice him.”
“You should have seen that coming, Euphretes!”
Blanchard brought everyone back on track, “Anyway, I apologize Sir, it seems I woke you too early.”
Euphretes gave a reassuring smile, “Not at all Blanchard. You definitely made the right call to wake me up when you did, even if that stowaway never shows up.”
“Amazing how you have patience for the big stuff but kick the droid when it runs over your foot!” Neuma sarcastically, yet lovingly pointed out.
“That freaking hurt,” Euphretes fired back in defense.
“And as always,” Euphretes continued to Blanchard, “the earlier the better, especially when it comes to stuff like this where I have my own reports to prepare and give to my boss.” Finding an excuse to escape the Command Center, “Which is exactly what I’ll be working on in the time being. Hopefully I can “work” on it long enough to give a face and a name to our spy.” The Empirical Admiral said, drawing a smile from Crestone who had mastered the technique of claiming to be “working on the report” while secretly putting out fires himself.
Just as the Admiral rose to his feet, the idea of grabbing his weapon and hunting down the stowaway himself crossed his mind. Feeling the desire, Neuma said,
“They don’t come in and try to start running the Armada while you’re at the helm, so don’t complicate the situation by doing their job.” Neuma could feel Euphretes’s bruised pride as she said it and instantly stopped while she was ahead. Changing tactics she decided to use a different approach. “And while you’re really good and we could probably find that stowaway ourselves if we tried, why not let other professionals gain the experience. You and I both know you have enough of it as it is!”
Euphretes immediately dropped the idea. Ever the compromiser, however, “Fine. But I’m on the next response team,” He said with the
tone of a stubborn teenager.
“Done.”
Seconds after the Empirical Admiral stood up to exit the Command Center, SR6’s hologram suddenly appeared next to Euphretes. “Sir, First Chief Warrant Officer Browder asked that I relay a message to you. Considering the confidentiality of the conversation and the current time, I thought it best to tell him that whoever said they saw you enter the Command Center was mistaken and that you were still asleep.”
“Not a problem. I’ll swing by to see him on my way to update the Emperor.” Euphretes answered with obvious excitement.
“Easy there champ. For all he knows, some important piece of equipment is broken and he owes you an answer.” Because possessing Artificial Intelligence was still considered Treason and a death sentence for anyone caught with it, Neuma didn’t want to draw any unnecessary attention to anything that related to her. Their faith in Chief Browder was already pushing the limit in her opinion.
As the fastest route to the Chief, Euphretes took the Flagship’s Secondary Passageway. Praying for a quiet morning but getting caught at precisely the wrong time during a shift change, Euphretes made the ninety yard walk to one of the Flagship’s Specialties Maintenance Bays as fast as he could; waiving down salutes along the way.
“Can I just yell “as you were” really loud?” In his opinion, saluting should not only be made entirely voluntary, but earned by the Officer and used only as gestures of respect and trust between soldiers and their leaders. However, he was aware that the longstanding tradition would never change. Attempting to do so would cause major freak outs. He decided that the specific standard quo needn’t be challenged any time soon.
“Builds character,” She coldly stated, her go to phrase always drawing a chuckle out of him.
Walking across a massive bay floor littered with partially assembled Ground Surface Vehicles in order to reach Browder’s domain, Euphretes entered the metaphysical candy store that was the Armament and Electronics Commodity Shop. Euphretes stepped inside and stared longingly. Every possible kind of turret within the Armada was mounted onto work benches, small arms to multi-crewed weapons were tagged and hung on armament racks that lined the walls, and disarmed missiles hanging like trophies from magnetism just fifteen feet off the floor, revealing the mystery of their insides, all lovingly called his name. His smile only widened the further his eyes inspected the room.
Nineteen Armament Repairer soldiers ran about the Commodity Shop, diagnosing fault codes, looking up parts to order, and installing parts on hand. They took no notice of the towering figure slowly walking through their midst. Euphretes took no offense as he understood the long, arduous work days for the mechanics. He had no intention of enforcing the strict rules regarding customs and courtesies. Without saying a word, he simply slipped past them on his way to Chief Browder.
Chief Browder’s door automatically opened for the Flagship’s most Senior Officer. Euphretes stepped into a quieter, yet just as chaotic scene inside the Armament and Electronics Section’s Shop Office. A young looking Chief Browder sat behind a desk completely covered in manuals and transcripts. Nearby, two Cleric Droids quietly plugged away at work orders while holographic schematics dotted every available projectable surface.
Without looking up from his work, “Welcome, please check in with the clerks and I’ll be right with you,” Chief Browder informed, his tone as monotone as possible. His facial hair completely violated regulations and massive dark circles were under his eyes. The Chief looked as if he was returning from a Combat Deployment, and not the other way around. Euphretes stood silent, amused by the Chief’s complete disregard for who had entered the room.
After a few moments, “How may I help you Sir or Ma’am?” Chief Browder half grunted without looking up. Euphretes continued to keep quiet, waiting another full four seconds before the now disgruntled Chief finally looked up in frustration. Euphretes studied Browder’s face with light heartedness as the Chief recognized who he had just been ignoring.
“Priceless.”
“Oh My God!!” The wrinkles on Browder’s forehead scrunched and a sheepish smile spread across his face. Just as he was jumping out of his seat, Euphretes interceded.
“Please stay seated Chief.”
Easing himself back into his chair, “I thought you were asleep.”
“Well, you thought wrong! I must say Chief, you look like you’ve been sleeping on the streets. What’s the emergency?” Euphretes asked.
Browder tried to force a smile, “I apologize Sir. I haven’t slept too well in the last five days. On top of that, your armor has been quite the riddle.”
“You don’t have to apologize to me Chief, I still remember the struggle you all face down here in the trenches. And thank you for all of your hard work, and I mean it. I’m told you have some updates to the armor designs?”
Chief Browder’s expression softened, “I think she’s ready for a test drive, but one warning.”
“Warning?” Neuma asked nervously.
“A warning?” Euphretes repeated.
“I’m finding it impossible to get the suit to run effectively off the wearer. For some reason, the human body is able to divert its energy stores to other areas and thus prevent the adaptors from drawing the necessary power to totally self-sustain the equipment.”
“I can easily resolve that issue for your body!” Neuma excitedly exclaimed.
“Because of that, an exterior battery pack is still recommended until I can figure out a way to trick the wearer’s body to completely sync with the gear. Regardless though Sir, it’s a huge breakthrough and one I am eager to show you.”
“Lead the way,” Euphretes said, gesturing with his hand.
Chief Browder led Euphretes out of the Shop Office and through a door marked, Armor Configurations and Updates. Inside was another metaphysical candy store. A large square room that had Armor Racks with partially completed Kits lining the walls and two long, linear tables filled with spare optics and parts greeted the Empirical Admiral. Browder walked straight to the middle of the room, where a single Armor Rack with a complete Kit sat by itself.
“Sir, here she is,” The Chief stated proudly as he pointed to the “T” shaped stand with Euphretes’s new armor draped over it. Deep blue armored plates were magnetically attached to a newly updated First Line Protective Body Suit. The fabric, made out of tensile, yet incredibly durable material, was stained a matte deep red. The stitching was done in bronze colored threading. With a helmet, the First Line Protective Body Suit allowed the wearer to survive in the extreme temperatures of deep space for as long as their oxygen scrubbers remained operational. The armor was capable of changing structure when struck with the right amount of force. It could actually harden upon impact, engulfing the object of force as it did so, and stop it from passing through. While the wearer could definitely feel the impact, the pain was quite minimal. Things such as knives, small to medium sized shrapnel, moderate levels of radiation, and small to medium sized pressure waves were all rendered useless when coming into contact with the fabric. Obviously, during combat, this was beneficial for the protection of internal organs.
When connected to a helmet’s tracking abilities, the suit could preemptively stiffen entire regions in anticipation of heavy impacts by sending electrical surges through those regions about to be struck. Along with protecting the wearer from trauma, the First Line Protective Suit monitored the blood flow just beneath the skin and used unnoticeable electrical surges to help increase the circulation during moments of stress. Additional protection was found within the fabric itself. Inside the inner layers of the suit was a thin layer of green sludge. If the suit’s material ended up getting penetrated, the sludge would immediately fill the injury to prevent bleeding while also administering pain reduction and antibiotic medicine. For non-penetrating wounds such as fractured bones, the fabric could stiffen around the area, and depending on the injury, it would apply heat or cold to facilitate the healing process.
“Glad I
went with this material. It looks even better than I had imagined!” Neuma admired.
The helmet was connected to the top of the rack, receiving updates to its computing systems. Carried over from his other personal Kit, the only difference to the helmet’s appearance was the change of surface texture. Microscopic ripple patterns were now etched into the surface, allowing the helmet’s sensors to better assess the environment around the wearer through the shifts in air patterns created by the grooves. The Kit’s thick boots lay magnetically connected to the foundation of the rack’s frame. Able to perform a wide range of capabilities with their Graviton Dampeners, the boots could even keep their wearer steady in altered gravity environments. Because the First Line Protective Suit was one piece and built specifically around Euphrete’s body, actual gloves were not needed as the sleeves ended into perfectly shaped fingers for his hands to slip into. However, a zipper allowed for the gloves to be removed without interfering with the structural integrity of the material.
“Neuma, it’s a magnificent design. I’m glad you went with everything,” Euphretes commented, Neuma’s joy spilling over into his speaking voice, “Chief Browder, I don’t know what to say, but thank you, it looks awesome. But please, continue,” He said, hoping the Chief would brag about his work because he more than earned it.
“Thank you Sir,” Browder answered, his aura glowing with pride. “Well, uh, the First Line Protective Body Suit with your configurations came in perfectly. My team spent the first two days ensuring the threading was correct and that it would match your dimensions, but we barely had to do a thing to her, which is exactly what you want to hear.”
Through the Abyss Page 24