Cold Snap
Yuki Shirogane and the Winter Diamond Chronicles
Written by: Macky Santiago
Created by: Kahlil Santiago and Macky Santiago
BlueRoom Projects
Copyright © 2020 Mark Santiago
All rights reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Cover design and Poster by: Kahlil Santiago
Firstly, I dedicate this book to Kahlil Santiago. Pretty sure you'll never forget that era when we were kids up in that attic, when standard operating procedure was for me to yap away telling stories while you drew out characters next to a small mountain of colored markers. This thing here that we did has the same energy.
Finally, I dedicate this book to Alexa, who (with Kahl in the actual Blue Room) dreamed that we three would be able to tell the stories I had in my head together. Not just out loud with said yapping, but with the 'written word'.
I love you both dearly.
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Dramatis Personae
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Kindle Exclusive Pre-Launch Poster
Acknowledgments
About The Author
Yuki Shirogane and The Winter Diamond Chronicles
Dramatis Personae
Crew of the Winter Diamond – Alliance Operative Team Designation: Cold Snap
o Yuki Shirogane – Captain of the Winter Diamond. Elite operative of the Triune Alliance. Most wanted fugitive of the Galactic Defense Force Conglomerate.
o Doctor Capaldi – Elite Medical and Engineering Bot
o Iñigo – Elite Close Combat & Melee Fighter Specialist Bot
o Bellona – Elite Tactical Enhanced Hyper Processing Bot
o Mick – Elite Heavy Artillery, Ballistic and Siege Bot
o Jean Philippe – Elite Saboteur & Espionage Bot
o Mila – Elite Sniper and Long-Range Assassination Bot
o Leon – Elite Defense and Shield Bot
The Triune Alliance
o Mother Ryn Stormcrow – Admiral of the Alliance and Yuki’s handler
o Harlan Farrin and Pirsi Klai-un – Engineers/developers
assigned to maintainance for the Winter Diamond and its crew
The Galactic Defense Force Conglomerate and its Vassal Worlds
o Captain Nandru Zavus – Most decorated captain of the Conglomerate. Alliance double agent.
o Queen Octavia V – Supreme ruler of the United Worlds
o Princess Lahani Mardress – Heir to the throne of the planet Faldan (currently under Conglomerate sanction)
o Princess Kelna Mardress – Second in line to the throne of Faldan
The Crew of the Sol Pernix
o Theron Jaeger – Captain of the Sol Pernix. Notorious galactic
mercenary and smuggler.
o Tala Mienstrom – First mate of the Sol Pernix. Sniper.
o Walsher Jaeger – Pilot
o Summer Bennet – Medic
o Charles Bennet – Weapons and demolition
o Dropshot – Synthoid hacker and engineer
Highly Encrypted Transmission
Origin: Decomissioned Conglomerate Space Relay
The cubs are in the den and the den is impenetrable. Package must be secured before the parliament lands. Sprint, not marathon. They can smell even the smallest of weaves and have been trained to hunt for snow. No charms on day zero until further notice.
Highly Encrypted Transmission
Origin: Vector 772
Copy. Dress warm. Cold snap imminent.
Field Captain Yuki Shirogane’s Log
Location: Winter Diamond, Vector 772
Just want to state for the record that even if they didn’t assign me to this op, I would have found some way to help. But everyone on the council knows my operative team is the only one in the entire Triune Alliance that has both the best chance of success and the lowest potential casualty rate.
I take offense at the last part on behalf of my non-organic crew. I so wanted to correct them and say our casualty rate is low because we’re pretty damn hard to kill, not because I’m the only organic life form on the team.
But I held my tongue at the briefing. I won’t let them get away with that though. Not forever. My crew deserves better. Sure, they’re the most powerful elite assault robots in the known galaxies. But they have feelings too, you know?
Note to self. Send a formal complaint to Admiral Stormcrow to make it clear that I don’t quite care for the council’s tone about my crew. Especially not when we’re their best bet at taking on the Conglomerate, and certainly not when we’re their best chance at pulling off this mission.
And we’re ever so efficient. I even made a to do list!
• Refuel the Anargian core fusion cells
• Buy fifteen Jandrium tubes for the baby-bots
• Finally get that life support system alarm fixed
• Restock ammunition for front and rear cannons
• Get a full body rejuvenation treatment
• Rescue Faldanian princesses from heavily armed space station exercising despotic control over their home planet before they are taken away to a Conglomerate black site, without being identified or killed
◆◆◆
Chapter One
I should have started with the rejuve treatment.
But instead, I'm here. Cloaked and successfully hoodwinking both the Faldan planetary defense rig and the Conglomerate Class Sensor array of the Faldan Space Station.
As far as anyone in this solar system is concerned, we don’t exist right now. They don’t have to know we’re nearby. Nor is it any of their business that we’re snug and comfy on the bridge of one of the known galaxy’s prettiest ships.
Well, most of us anyway.
“Forty-five seconds to target deployment site.” Bellona warbles happily through my earpiece. Hooked up to the Diamond’s sensor array, she’s quite literally more in the ship than “on” it.
“Aye, good on you, Bellona. Cheery in the face of imminent death. Been campaigning for years for that to be our slogan.” Doctor Capaldi responds, hovering quietly next to me. “Alliance Operative Team Designation: Cold Snap. Cheery in the face of imminent death.”
“Mission now, sarcasm later, Doctor.” I say lovingly. “Jean Philippe, you’ve been out there a while. Sit rep.”
“Even with your revised cloaking tech, I can only redirect attention from us for so long without their sensors picking us up.” Bellona adds.
“But Bellona, mon ange, with your skills we are more than safe, yes? Practically invincible! Practically unstoppable!“ Jean Philippe interjects. “Practically…”
“Practically time you finished hacking the entry point open? Not that I don’t love the sound of your voice, JP.” I teased. He hates it when I call him that.
“The reprimand, the flattery and the slight. Mademoiselle Capitaine has learned her lessons in subtle manipulation well. After all, her teacher is anything but less than excellent.” Jean Philippe’s tone is more playful and soothing. Which tells me something isn’t right.
“Come on, Jean Philippe. Report.” I ask. “We only have…”
“Ten seconds to deployment site.” Bellona
warns. Cheery still, but I can sense the edge to it, not just in her voice, but also along our connection in the neuroweave.
There are days the neuroweave feels like a curse, since I can hear and feel everyone all at once. Makes travelling across the galaxy in a ship extra crowded because they’re in my head too. But on missions —and especially ops like this one — I wouldn’t trade it for the universe.
I always hate admitting it, but Queen Octavia really is a genius. Evil. But a genius. I'm just thrilled that we can use all that tech she put in us against her in situations like the one we're in now. Though currently, the crew and I are more anxious than thrilled.
My heart pounds as the ship annexes itself to the side of the space station’s underbelly. We chose one of the non-functional refinery exhaust ports as a point of entry, mostly because nobody in their right mind would ever want to attempt entry through here.
“E… voila! Open sesame.” Jean Philippe exclaims, followed by silence. Too much silence.
“Talk to me, Jean Philippe.” I ask.
“Alor… it seems none of the codes work.” He responded.
“You mean all seven hundred docking and entry codes I paid fifty-three thousand credits for are duds.” I say. If I ever get my hands on that weasel of a code broker Breacher Kane, I’m going to make him eat that ugly hat and shoot him in his one functioning kneecap.
“I have my own protocols…” Jean Philippe offered, but Bellona cut him off.
“The Conglomerate knows our unique neuroweave signatures, Jean Philippe.” Bellona says, strain cutting through her cheery tone. “And we have… Oh goodness, one minute and fifty-four seconds until the next security sweep eliminates the last of our cloaking protocols. We’ll be on her Magic Mirror for sure.”
The Magic Mirror is the Queen’s nasty new “toy” that detects and breaks down cloaking technology. It uses frequencies and counter frequencies that ultimately nullify cloaks or overwhelm the tech powering them. It can also track, scan, and triangulate the location of anything within its scope of deployment.
Evil despots shouldn’t also be mad geniuses, or vice versa. And yet, here we are. a little closer to death because of it.
We’d been successful so far at evading her, thanks to whatever countermeasures Jean Philippe and the crew rigged up. I paid through the nose to buy enough unique cloaking protocols to make it work. It's bought us some time.
Since warping into the planet’s orbit and force docking onto the underbelly of the station, we’d burnt through thirty-six unique cloaking protocols. Thirty-seven will be the magic number for this mission... mostly because we’re down to our last one.
“I am aware that the Conglomerate systems know us intimately and wish us ill, like a badly jilted lover. But am I not the best saboteur in the galaxy?” Jean Philippe says. He’s charming, but he never brags without reason. He has something. I can feel it. And the others can too.
“Whatever it is, do it. Or we’re toast in...?” I ask Bellona.
“One minute, thirty-two seconds.” She offers.
“I will need two minutes to get past their decryption unidentified.” Jean Philippe says. “And yes, we do not have the luxury of time, but I have been studying Le Miroir Magique since the Drallian incident. Since then, I have devised a prototype scrambler that, once mounted physically onto any of the mirror transponders, should buy us three full minutes of cloaking. All of us. Our energy signatures. Our neuroweave signatures. Operative word: should.”
“Nearest transponder is two minutes away.” Bellona adds, ever helpful. “Which is twice the actual time we have.”
“I have devised the scrambler so it can be deployed at high velocity from far distances with no harm to the device itself.” Jean Philippe says smugly. Even as he said the words high velocity, I could feel Mila move to exit the Diamond.
“Mila, you’re up. Get the scrambler from Jean Philippe and fire it at the transponder. JP, I could kiss you.” I smile.
“Alas, I have no lips and respond poorly to the shortening of my name, but I will accept accolades and credits .” He says.
“In position. Target is three thousand yards away.” Mila says. That's an easy mark for a targeting bot of her caliber, since all of us were made to be the elite of the galaxy’s elite.
“Thirty Seconds!” Bellona announces.
“Take the shot, Mila.” I say.
“The transponder is shielded. Will have to disrupt the shield to give me an opening.” Mila says.
“Jean Philippe, time to share your toys.” My heart hammers. We need to work together to pull this off. “Activate Link Tag Protocol. Let’s play.”
I plunge into the neuroweave and feel its familiar gravity. Every synapse in my brain fires in rapid, concurrent explosions until I am perfectly synchronized with Jean Philippe and Mila. Borrowing from Jean Philippe’s programming, I lend the protocols for the shield scrambling tech to Mila as she prepares to fire on her first target.
This deep into the neuroweave, I sense everything through their systems.
Jean Philippe codes new protocols on the spot. It’s like he’s creating thread, then weaving it into cloth and shaping into a disguise... all while trying to crack the station’s surface code.
I also sense Mila as she downloads the new skills and information she needs to use Jean Philippe’s device. From there she’ll analyze the natural fluctuation of the Magic Mirror’s transponder shield energy signature and time the shot at just the right moment in the power cycle.
She’ll disrupt the shield and deploy the scrambler. If the Conglomerate systems pick up a two or three second hitch, it can easily be dismissed as a routine surge.
“Twenty seconds until cloak failure!” Bellona informs us.
Meanwhile, Mila and I are still using Jean Philippe’s protocols to analyze the shield’s power cycles.
Seconds feel like hours until a pattern finally emerges.
“Analysis complete. Eight seconds until next power surge.” Mila says.
“Cloak failure in ten. Nine. Eight…” Bellona counts down.
“Two seconds to make two shots. Could be worse.” Doctor Capaldi says before I can stop him.
I am not superstitious by nature, but sometimes, you just do not want to tempt any higher powers. Of course, the reality is that, apart from the impossible, testing the higher powers is the other thing we do all the time.
Even before Bellona announces it, I feel it through her sensors.
“Sentry bots. Three of them. Seven meters and closing! Five seconds to cloak failure!” Bellona shouts, no mirth left in her voice, only urgency.
In a pure rush of adrenaline, I push past my first threshold of control and extend my consciousness to encompass all seven of my crew.
This is full interface.
This is the thing that makes me and my team arguably the most lethal force in the known galaxies: that all our minds can become one.
My mind is a field of explosions. A nebula of stars being birthed. No human mind has the capacity to interface with a machine in full, let alone an elite robot. But mine can. And not just with one machine, but with seven.
I was built this way. My home world and whatever else that could have belonged to me, were ripped away before I could even take my first breath. All so I could be forged into something that could do what I am doing now.
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