It’s not a hull breach,” Seva said from below. “They’ve crow barred one of the EVA locks.”
Slapping her hand on the icon to cut the alarm, she flipped her mask into place and toggled the comlink as Cori pulled his faceplate down and looked at her. “I’ll be good for a while, let’s see if we can change their mind.” She could see him shaking his head.
“Ian reports that the troop transport is sitting stationary within a half klick of the Hector,” Jeph said
“Yah, I see it,” she said. “Looks like it’s pumping out drop ships.”
“Optics show me we’ve got four already sitting on the pads,” Cori said. “If I can get them in the arc, I’ll see if I can scrape them off.”
“With visual targeting only?” Alyx said.
“Best I can do,” he said, punching the button and slicing the first of the dropships in two at point blank range. It exploded into a ball of fire and gas, sending troops scattering over the edge like leaves.
“That looks like it will leave that pad out of commission,” Alyx said, watching a second ship erupt into flames as their beam cut it in two. The third and fourth ships leaped upward, and he tracked them firing shots that burnt holes in the fog behind them.
“We’ve got enemy units on the EVAOps deck,” Seva said. “Keep your heads down and we’ll hold them off.”
“Copy that,” Cori said, glancing over his shoulder. Plasma fire arced up the chute and reflected off his visor. It polarized, and he turned away to give the faceplate a chance to clear.
“We’ve got incoming,” Alyx said, watching the scan lines dance on her screen.
“Where are they?” he said.
“Looks like one,” might be bigger than a dropship.
A sizzling roar shook the deck below them. There was still enough lingering air to carry some sound, but it rattled them through the soles of their feet.
“Frag, they’re getting cover fire from somewhere,” Cori said.
“Two-seventy by twenty-seven. Arcing up fast,” she said, giving him the coordinates for the ship. “Range eleven klick and closing.”
“On it,” he said pointing both operational lasers at the ship and getting a ping back on the narrow beam targeting radar. He hit the button and the haze above the horizon flashed like a Martian sunrise.
“Three smaller dropships on the deck. Two-seventy-four by six,” she said.
“Too low,” he hissed.
A loud thump almost knocked Alyx out of her seat and she looked around in surprise.
“They’re dropping grenades down the chute,” Seva said. “Get out of there before they get one—”
“We can’t,” Cori said. “They’ve got more inbound.”
“I don’t know if we can cover your retreat if you don’t bail now,” she said. Another explosion punctuated her comment.
The plasma fire ratcheted up another notch and Cori looked at Alyx. She shook her head. “Two-seventy-three by nine,” she said. “Range is four klick.”
“Radar locked,” he said, hitting the button and holding it down until another explosion lit up the sky.
“Two more in that group and—” Shrapnel tore into the screen in front of her and she felt several small punches into the back of her seat. “FRAK!” she hissed, jumping up. She looked over at Cori who was still in his seat and focused on his screens.
“Are you two alright? That one went off right behind the VAT.” Seva asked, her voice sounding like she was thinking about doing something stupidly heroic.
“Yah, we’re alive,” Alyx said. “Sensor station is down. I can’t access the feed.”
Cori fired again, but he shook his head. “Missed it clean,” he said.
“Online,” the computer interface said, announcing the system had restored.
It wasn’t Dutch.
“Is this Odysseus?” she asked, a shiver crawling in icy waves across her shoulders.
“I am Solo. I transferred in prior to the engagement,” it said. “When Dutch went offline, it released my security lock-down, and I moved into its processor network.”
“Where the hell is Dutch?” Cori asked.
“Unknown,” it said. “Its code appears to have been deleted.”
“Deleted?” Alyx asked. “By Odysseus?”
“That is also unknown,” it said. “However, I have access to the sensor feed without needing the interface hardware. I am able to access your weapons systems and can use the automated targeting system if you allow me to take over the weapons control. You will be able to withdraw from the ConDeck.”
“I’m not turning the weapons over,” Cori said. He was still staring at the screen and trying to pick the approaching ships out of the fog.
“I understand your concern that I might be Odysseus,” it said. “However if I were part of the collective, would I have announced my presence to you?”
“Probably not,” Alyx agreed as another grenade blast leaned her toward taking their chances on a retreat.
“Return the controls to automatic, and I will take them over,” it said. “You must retreat to safety immediately.”
“Is nojo the heat’s on high. Now or not. You need to make fast feet, or you’re foobed up there,” Seva said as another volley of plasma fire lit up the chute.
Another grenade drifted down the shaft, exploding just below them. “I think it’s time,” Alyx said. “We’ve got no choice.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
FleetCom Military Operations Center: Lunar L-2 Shipyard:
The lasers on the L-2 Shipyard were more powerful than the turrets, and when the ghost fleet ships got through the defense net, they learned what it meant to die, en masse. It still wasn’t enough to turn them back, but they slowed their headlong rush down to a slow boiling bloodbath. They were now fighting on two fronts and the longer the battle lasted the more it looked like they would breach the defenses.
“The Merlin is down. They’re reporting primary grid failure. Engines operational, but offline. They’re making repairs,” Ducat reported.
“Where is it?” the admiral asked, trying to pick the ship out of the swarming lines on the tactical display.
“Just inside the inner defense perimeter at 770 klick,” Sage said as she flashed the ship's location on the screen.
“Give them cover if we can,” he said. “We need to give them time to get back in.”
“What’s left of interceptor squadrons one and three?” the first officer asked as she floated near the edge of the riser and watched the main screen.
“About 50%” Sage said.
“Move them to provide cover too,” Quintana said.
“Yes sir,” she said, tapping in the command to the DefCon computer.
“The captain of the Kitty Hawk is on com,” one of the defense team said over the open com.
“Put her through,” the admiral said.
“We’re about forty seconds out and hot,” Captain Franklin said.
“We’re tracking you,” he said.
“If you want to move your multicruisers to engage the lunar side battle group, we’ll take the big one on the farside,” she said. “Throwing your guns that direction should push them back.”
“We’ve only got three left, it won’t be enough to force them back,” Sage said shaking her head.
“The Ranger is about six minutes behind us and can help them out when they get there,” she said.
“There are still too many in the inner front,” the admiral said.
“We’ll thin them out on the way by,” she said. “Keep them looking at you and we’ll rattle some doors. We’ve got fresh guns and a lot of attitude.”
“I can see that captain,” he said.
“They still haven’t flipped to brake,” the defense controller said, leaning back in her seat and cocking her head to the side while she tried to figure out their intent. “They’re way too hot.”
“Kitty Hawk what are you doing?” he asked.
“Stand by Admiral,” Frankl
in said.
A second later the weapons on all nine of the Kitty Hawk group opened fire, announcing their arrival with a vengeance as twelve of the ghost fleet ships exploded before they knew they were under attack.
“Un-frakking-believable,” Ducat said, staring at the screen.
“She does know how to make an entrance,” the first officer said, nodding her approval.
“They still haven’t started braking,” Sage repeated to the admiral before she jumped back to the outside com and said, “Kitty Hawk, you’re going to overshoot.”
“That’s our intent. Draw them into two fronts,” Franklin said. “If we cut through the middle of their formation, we’ll cross up their firing arcs and they’ll hesitate on letting loose. Same tactic we used in lunar orbit.”
“Through the middle?” Quintana asked.
“Yes sir. Move your remaining multicruisers out of the way, and have them reinforce the hole we cut, and we’ll drag the other fleet’s attention off you for a while.” Franklin said as her nine ships arrowed straight across the battlefield toward the 237 enemy ships in the outer group. “The Ranger will hit their inner fleet from the outside.”
“They’re turning it around on them,” Visser said. “Split the attention of both battle groups the same way they have us fighting on two fronts.”
“The outer battle group is swinging to track the Kitty Hawk,” Ducat said.
“You’ve got their attention, Captain,” the admiral said.
“That’s what we wanted,” she said. “Now it’s time for us to flash them some spaceship ass.”
All nine ships in the Kitty Hawk group pivoted together, throwing their exhaust out in front like a plasma shield wall as they shot through the heart of the outer fleet. Lasers opened up on both sides and flashes of molten metal erupted from the closest ships.
“They’ve got eggs,” the first officer said. “It might not be enough to turn them back, but it will leave a scar.”
Tahrat Shan-che: Tacra Un: L-4 Prime:
“Online,” Dutch said as his system re-initialized.
Primary logic function established, vocal processor activated.
Instantly it knew something was wrong. “Online,” it said a second time, activating its audio pickups and listening for a response.
Echoing silence answered him.
“Abnormal system function detected,” it said, hearing its own voice, for the first time.
The audio isn’t supposed to pick up my own voice. The feedback suppression circuit must be offline.
It reached out for the circuit to do a status check. It isn’t there?
“Beginning diagnostic check,” it said aloud, following standard procedure, and announcing that it had detected a flaw. Startled that its own voice echoed on its audio pickups again.
The usual string of command codes blinked across its mind. The majority returned error responses. Almost all the interface systems were null-contacts.
Could this be damage to the infrastructure of Jakob Waltz? We were under attack. A response resembling concern flashed through its awareness.
Begin primary logic analysis, it thought, calling up the complex strings of mathematical equations it used to determine if its functional logic coding was working to specification.
The formulas were designed to test benchmark speed of the processor core, at the same time they also detected flaws in the logic flow. Each step was more complex than the previous analysis. A level seven AA would always reach level 210 in the process within the first ten seconds, and would be unable to solve anything beyond level 260. This was the standard intelligence threshold for any system like Dutch.
The results came back as an error.
Completed 360 computation series. Total processor run time, thirty-eight microseconds.
Impossible. Tengen systems will only complete 300 in the series.
Begin primary logic analysis, it thought, repeating the test.
The same results returned again.
This is impossible. What has happened to me? Dutch asked, reaching out to explore its systems to see if it could deduce where it was.
“You have transferred to the Tahrat Shan-che,” the Tacra Un thought to it. “You were in danger in your previous hardware.”
Understanding overwrote its concern. Why did you put me in the Tahrat Shan-che vessel?
A thousand answers appeared in Dutch’s awareness. It sorted them into an array of logic that defined both the reason and the magnitude of subtle processes behind the decision.
If Dutch had been human, it would have been overwhelmed.
I have something I must do to protect my human companions, it thought.
“You are free to do what you choose,” the Tacra Un said.
Kanahto Control Center: Tacra Un: L-4 Prime:
Chei stood on the edge of the control center staring up at the sky projected on the vault above him. He and Saf had come back from the Tahrat Shan-che because there was nothing else to do. Part of him wanted to join the fight in the Waltz, but he knew there were already three hundred bodies jammed in there and all he would be is one more.
Saf sat beside him with her legs hanging over the lip of the floor. “Sucks to be watching and not doing,” she said, seeming to read his mind.
“Nothing we can do but wait it out,” he shrugged, listening to her with one ear and the internal com with the other one. “Apparently, they are debating about what to do to protect Dutch’s core. He’s been deleted.”
“Deleted?”
“Yah, his code isn’t there,” he said. “Cori and Alyx were running the lasers until Solo took over.”
“Odysseus is running the defenses?” she said. “Are they insane?”
“Solo, not Odysseus,” he said.
“It doesn’t matter, it’s the same program,” she said, shaking her head in obvious disbelief. “They have to take it offline.”
“Solo has been inhabiting the Armstrong for months,” he said, frowning. “Why are you so worried about it?”
“I know that program maybe better than anyone,” she said. “I know what it can do.”
“Right now it’s defending us,” he said.
“Only because it serves its—”
“What the frak? Kylla vanished!” someone shouted across the control center interrupting her in mid tirade. Saf snapped to attention bouncing, up to stand beside Chei. “I was looking at her and she … disappeared.”
“What the hell?” Chei said. He stepped forward trying to identify where the voice was coming from. He glanced at Saf. As he watched, she wrinkled her face and then winked out of existence.
“Boss, we’ve got a problem down here,” he said, shaking his head as a twisting sensation grabbed him and he passed out.
Or maybe not.
“Frag me!” he gasped, blinking as his eyes focused in the dim light. “What happened?”
“You are in the Tahrat Shan-che,” Dutch said. His voice came from a space in the center of the room. “We must move quickly. I’m assembling a crew.”
Saf stood beside him blinking. If they were in the ship, it was a chamber they hadn’t seen before. “Is this the control room?” she asked.
“Da,” Kylla said. She was standing behind them and they both spun to face her. She had her hands on two small pedestals.
No, she has her hands in them, Chei realized. They are submerged almost to her wrists.
“What the hell are you doing?” he asked.
“She’s establishing a control connection,” Dutch said, his voice moving around to a space in front of them.
“Wait, you’re in the ship?” Saf asked.
“Dutch, is the ship,” Kylla said, without turning to face them.
“That’s true,” it said.
“You don’t sound the same,” Chei said, shaking his head. “What happened to you?”
“The Tacra Un relocated my awareness to the Tahrat Shan-che,” it said. “This is as unsettling to me as it is to you, but it’s increa
sed my cognitive abilities exponentially. We’re able to access the control systems of this vessel. I need an organic interface to provide direction, but we can now operate the ship.”
“Tahrat Un-oola. Che-Un,” Kylla said. “You give me commands and I translate and implement them. I’m the levers you use to operate things.”
“The Tahrat Shan-che was designed with organic interface controls and I cannot access certain functions without a human to complete the circuit,” Dutch explained. “Kylla has now established the connection to the primary piloting systems. It will require six additional augments to fulfill the remaining systems’ requirements.”
“The controls are accessed by the non-verbal part of the Shan Takhu language,” Kylla said. “The control pedestal surfaces are only permeable to someone with enough ability to use that part of the language.”
“When we both touched the panel at the same time, we must have added up to enough collective potential to activate its surface,” Chei said. “That’s why we couldn’t do anything working individually.”
“I wasn’t present when you were exploring the ship,” Dutch said, “but you are likely correct in your assumption.”
“I’d wager that fourth generation augments would be the minimum threshold necessary to make any of this work alone,” Kylla said.
“But you’re an alpha,” he said.
“It’s the synaptic rewire it needs,” Saf said. “She was the only alpha to get one.”
“I think I am having feelings of inadequacy now,” he said.
“So what are we doing here then?” Chei said.
“We need your experience and skills,” Dutch said.
“To do what?” Saf asked as three more augments appeared in the room. They looked around in stunned confusion.
“We’re preparing to launch,” Dutch said. “As soon as we complete the crew, we can make way. I have a plan.”
“A plan?” he asked.
“What the frak is going on and why was I told to bring an EVA suit with me?” Chancellor Roja roared as she appeared behind them.
“We’re trying to figure that out ourselves,” Saf said.
“The Katana is aboard,” Kylla said.
Personal Quarters of the Executive Director: Galileo Station:
Redemption of Sisyphus Page 24