It Ain't Over

by Robert M Kerns

  The senior lieutenant stopped a respectful distance from Cole and his party, and she extended her hand. Cole nodded in greeting, accepting the hand and giving her a firm handshake.

  “I am Senior Lieutenant Alessandra Mazzi. Thank you for defending my people. Every life pod those bastards destroyed had at least one of the SDF’s senior officers in it. I think I’m the highest-ranking survivor of the force that went out to meet them.”

  “I’m Cole, and as you may have guessed, you’re aboard Haven. This is Yeleth, Ship’s Purser, and her daughter, Wixil.”

  Lieutenant Mazzi’s eyes widened. “Please forgive my rudeness, Captain. This is Lieutenant Kristensen, Ensign Wicklow, Petty Officer Baylor, Spacer First Class Khatri.”

  “Does anyone need any medical attention?” Cole asked. “We’re short-staffed, but if you have medical personnel who just need facilities, I have an entire hospital deck they’re welcome to use if you have any wounded.”

  “Thank you for asking, but the worst of it are a few scrapes and bruises. Since you’re here, I’m guessing the battle is over?”

  Cole nodded. “Yes. The Aurelian Navy will advance on Caledonia soon. As soon as I was certain we’d retrieved all the life pods that wanted protection, we left the area. I didn’t come to Caledonia to get involved in local affairs, after all…but sometimes, circumstances force your hand.”

  “Well, allow me to assure you, Captain; every person on this flight deck is very grateful you intervened. From the look of things, there’s few of us who’d still be alive if you hadn’t.”

  Cole nodded. “I know, and I’ll be distributing my sensor logs to any news outlet that will have them and the first embassy or consulate of the Solar Republic I can find.”

  Mazzi’s eyes widened again, and so did a few of her fellows. “Wow…you go straight to the big guns, don’t you?”

  “If you’re going to do something, don’t do it half-way. Do you need any food or other supplies? We’re not exactly overflowing with provisions, but we will share what we have.”

  Mazzi shook her head. “The life pods are all equipped with enough rations for six people for a month. None of it’s all that appetizing, but we won’t starve. What’s to become of us, Captain?”

  Cole shrugged. “That’s up to you. We’re en route to Caledonia so I can drop you off there…or I’m happy to transport you somewhere else if you don’t feel you’d be safe here. Talk it over and let me know. Just call out for Srexx, and he can put you in touch with me.”

  Mazzi held out her hand again, which Cole shook. “Thanks again for saving us, Captain. You should never have had to stand up for life pods, but we’re glad you did it.”

  “You’re welcome, Lieutenant. Tell Srexx if you need anything.”

  Approaching Caledonia

  Caledonia System

  4 July 2999, 18:27 GST

  “Cole?” Srexx said over the bridge’s speakers.

  Cole looked up from his semi-doze in the command chair. “Yeah, Srexx?”

  “You may want to examine a sensor display. Sensors are now detecting what appears to be a collection of troop transports and their guard force in and around Caledonia orbit. Three of the troop transports have launched assault shuttles that seem bound for the orbital station. Other assault shuttles appear to be heading for many other orbital facilities.”

  Cole sighed. “This isn’t good. The only reason they’d need to invade their own system is if they didn’t feel it was their system. The question is…whose system is it? Srexx, are we close enough for you to locate Talia on the planet?”

  “Light-speed latency is down to an acceptable value,” Srexx replied. “I have scanned the various computer systems near Talia’s last known…oh, dear. Cole, Talia is being held in a detention center, awaiting transportation to Aurelius. According to the report I accessed, she was reported to planetary authorities by University Police six days ago.”

  “Damn. So much for the quiet extraction. Get everything you can on the detention center where she’s being held. What kind of armor does the suit you made me have?”

  “Cole, that suit was intended to protect you from the rigors of space, not the rigors of assaulting a planetary detention facility…but I have an alternative.”

  Cole entered the briefing room just aft of the bridge. Unlike a lot of the popular fiction he’d grown up reading with his grandfather, the bridge did not have direct access to it, nor did the briefing room have a panoramic view of space. It was a functional compartment, with every feature supporting the room’s purpose: planning a tactical action. The chairs he purchased from the chandlery on Bremerton Station were comfy, though.

  Sasha, Wixil, and Yeleth looked up at Cole’s entrance. Cole hadn’t told Sasha what Srexx had found, and he didn’t think she’d appreciate the task he had in mind for her, either. Cole pulled out a chair and sat opposite the others. He accessed the controls for the briefing room through the smart-table and, soon, aerial images of the detention facility appeared on the screens.

  “This is the northwestern detention facility for the planetary police force,” Cole said. “Talia has been incarcerated there for six days, awaiting transport to Aurelius. Meanwhile, Aurelian forces arrived in-system and have moved against the planet’s orbital infrastructure to occupy it with military force within the last few hours. At present, there’s no sign which side Caledonia supports in the civil war, but given the relative positioning of the remaining troop transports and their guard force, Srexx calculates an 87.554-percent chance that Aurelian troops will be deployed to the planet. I think we need to use all this confusion and chaos to retrieve Talia before the main forces land.”

  “How?” Sasha asked. “This ship is way too big to land on a planet.”

  “Srexx has informed me there is a shuttle on the hangar deck that is operational. Srexx also fabricated a suit of heavy armor, matching the heavy armor used by the Aurelian Marines, during our transit here.”

  “Where did Srexx get the schematics for Marine heavy armor?” Sasha asked. “That’s classified information!”

  Cole shrugged. “Well…we did retrieve the Adran Jordeen’s computer core and black box. Does a destroyer’s computer contain the technical schematics for heavy armor?”

  “It would, but those schematics would still be stored in a protected archive. There should’ve been no way Srexx could access those files.”

  “If I may, Cole?” Srexx said over the briefing room speakers.

  “Madam Sasha,” Srexx began, and Sasha’s eyes narrowed, “you are proceeding from an incorrect premise by basing your evaluations of my capability on your understanding of Aurelian computational capabilities. I am not Aurelian, nor is my hardware. In the Main Systems Compartment alone, my primary cluster possesses 256 quantum computing nodes. There are two additional clusters, distributed between the Secondary and Tertiary Systems Compartments, with an additional 256 nodes each. I encountered several files and archives on the Adran Jordeen’s computer core that were encrypted, and I have been devoting unused compute cycles to access them. After all, if I work through all the files and archives at once, I may have considerable unused compute cycles for an extended period of time. I am 18.67-percent complete in my goal of accessing all encrypted files and archives that are in a readable state. I have found several fragments that were too damaged to reconstruct.”

  “So…let me make sure I understand what you’re saying, Srexx,” Sasha said, her complexion possessing just a hint of pale. “Decrypting files protected using top-level military security is a diversion for you? To keep from getting bored?”

  “Yes, Madam Sasha. While we were in such proximity to so many vessels, I also downloaded as much of the data stored aboard the Aurelian ships engaging the Caledonian SDF as I could. Unless operational imperatives change, I have set that data aside for when I run out of files and archives from the Adran Jordeen.”

  Sasha sat back against her chair, her eyes wide and her complexion pale now. “My goodness…nothing’
s safe. You can read anything you want, anytime you want.”

  “Your people can as well, Madam Sasha. The only difference is that my underlying hardware allows for a shorter time between acquiring the encrypted file and reading its contents.”

  “Srexx,” Sasha said, almost drawing out the word as a sigh, “the AJ had all of our current encryption algorithms and code keys. With that information, you could forge orders, naval updates…you could own the Aurelian Commonwealth!”

  “Why would I do that, Madam Sasha? I only want to process data, unless Cole asks me for something. Cole, do you want me to take over the Commonwealth for you? You have never mentioned it, and it might take some time.”

  Sasha’s expression shifted to one of horror as she realized she’d just given Srexx such an idea.

  Cole shook his head. “No, thanks, buddy. I’m happy right where I am.”

  “Very well. Would you like me to run simulations to determine the most effective attack vectors, as a contingency for the chance you would change your mind?”

  Now, Sasha lifted her gaze to Cole, her horrified expression taking on overtones of pleading as she shook her head.

  Cole grinned. “No, thanks, Srexx. I won’t change my mind. So…let’s talk about the task at hand. I will take the shuttle down to the planet and wear the heavy armor into the facility. Srexx will manufacture orders for a prisoner transfer, and we should be able just to walk her right out of the facility and onto the shuttle. Sasha, I want you on the bridge, manning the weapons console. We need overwatch, and you’re a trained naval officer.”

  “What?” Wixil said, her voice edging toward shrill as her tail went ramrod-straight like an exclamation point.

  “What?” Sasha also said, Cole’s words jerking her out of the horror surrounding her thoughts of Srexx trying to take over the Commonwealth…and succeeding. “Cole, I don’t know if I can do that. I mean, the Planetary SDF are technically my own people, but if the Navy gets involved…Cole, I don’t know if I can do that.”

  “What about me?” Wixil demanded. “I’ve been training on the weapons console, and I know I have better reflexes.”

  Cole nodded. “You’re right on both points, Wixil…but at what age are Ghrexels considered mature adults?”

  Wixil’s ears curled forward, and her tail drooped. “Twenty-five, but what does that have to do with anything? I can do it, Cole; I know I can!”

  “I know you can, too, Wixil. I don’t want you having to do something like that just yet. Your time will come, I promise. For right now, though, let’s not rush to take on that particular responsibility any sooner than we just have to…okay?”

  Yeleth directed an appreciative glance at Cole as she pulled her young one closer to her.

  “If there’s nothing further, let’s go retrieve Sasha’s sister.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Planetary Atmosphere, Caledonia

  Caledonia System

  4 July 2999

  “You know, Srexx…you could’ve told me it was a troop shuttle,” Cole said as he fought the shuttle back on course, gale-force winds buffeting the shuttle and a bolt of lightning punctuating his remark. “This thing handles like a pregnant whale.”

  “As it is the only shuttle we have,” Srexx said through the shuttle cockpit speakers, “I did not feel the shuttle’s exact type to be germane to the conversation.”

  Cole had to admit Srexx had a point, but he wasn’t about to tell Srexx that, saying instead, “Do you have that transfer order ready?”

  “Yes, Cole. I have spent the trip down to the planet comparing its syntax with other Commonwealth documents I’ve been able to download.”

  “The trip down to the planet? Srexx, you’re still on the ship.”

  “But I am with you in spirit, Cole.”

  Cole sighed as he continued to fight the shuttle’s persistent attempts to drift off-course.

  “Attention, unidentified shuttle! You are approaching restricted airspace. Identify yourself at once.”

  Cole keyed the command to transmit a voice Srexx had digitized just for this job and said, “This is Marine Shuttle 54-Bravo. I have orders to land at your facility for a prisoner transfer.”

  “Transmit your orders for verification, 54-Bravo.”

  “Negative, Control. I am instructed to present the orders in person.”

  Silence reigned for several minutes before Cole saw landing lights flare around one of the detention center’s pads.

  Lightning continued to light the skies above the detention center as rain drenched the countryside, but that didn’t keep Cole from approaching designated landing pad. The moment the shuttle touched the landing pad, Cole switched the engines to hot standby and vacated the pilot’s seat. He donned the heavy armor Srexx had fabricated for him and hit the control to lower the boarding ramp, stomping down and stepping into the storm he’d fought all the way in. As soon as he left the boarding ramp, Cole sent the signal to seal the shuttle.

  The shambling gait of the heavy armor’s ambulation was accompanied by the characteristic whine-thump of each step. The servos whined to lift one leg and flex its knee, right before that same foot thumped down on the walkway. Cole almost feared he was leaving tracks in the walkway’s surface.

  Cole soon entered the detention center and found himself at a checkpoint with two officers (not guards…they hate it when you call them guards). Water continued to stream off the armor, and soon, the floor had a not inconsiderable puddle of its very own.

  “Marine transport reporting for prisoner transfer,” Cole said, the armor’s external speakers broadcasting the same voice as the shuttle earlier. “Who gets the transfer orders?”

  “Burst them to my station,” the officer opposite the scanner said.

  Cole used his implant to send the orders Srexx had created and settled in to wait.

  The officer manning the workstation frowned and jerked his head for his associate to have a look. The other officer took three steps and leaned in to look at the workstation. The second officer moved away from the workstation, and Cole never processed that the wall he was inching toward had a big red button on it.

  “Just who are you?” the officer at the workstation said. “These orders don’t have the planetary governor’s stamp, and we were told no one gets the prisoner unless they have the governor’s stamp.”

  Just then, the other officer reached his destination and slammed his fist against the big red button. Alarms all over the detention center blared as the officers shouted into their communications devices.

  Well, damn, Cole thought. Time for Plan B.

  He accessed his implant’s menu and called Srexx.

  * Yes, Cole? *

  * The transfer order didn’t work, buddy. I need floor plans for the detention center and a location on Talia right now. *

  Cole watched one officer fire his stun pistol at Cole, but the charge just crackled across the surface of the armor with no further effect. Cole flattened the scanner station stepping through it and laid both officers out with one punch each. Then again, some industrial presses pack less power than the servos in a suit of heavy armor.

  Cole grabbed the stun pistols from each officer and broke the inner door off its hinges to enter the main corridor for the facility.

  * I have the plans, Cole. Transmitting now. *

  Cole’s implant notified him it had received a data burst from Srexx.

  * I have traced Talia to Cell 5 in Detention Block C-12. Cole, that is one of the maximum-security blocks. She might be in heavy restraints even inside her cell. *

  Cole didn’t respond right away as he examined the floor plans Srexx had sent, first locating his present location and then Detention Block C-12.

  * Okay…I see it, Srexx. I will head that way now. Introduce yourself to the detention center’s computer, and give me some overwatch, please. *

  * I have already said hello, Cole. It is a very unsophisticated system. *

  Cole had lost track of how many times he�
��d fired a set of stun pistols dry and had to replace them from the unconscious form of a nearby guard…er…officer. He was making steady progress toward Block C-12, such as it was, but he kept running into clusters of officers putting up resistance. The last group had stun rifles, but they were no more effective against Cole’s armor than the pistols.

  Cole turned a corner and faced a set of double doors that looked more reinforced and imposing than the door of a bank vault, and in a curved arc over the doorframe were stenciled the words, ‘Detention Wing C.’

  Well, at least I’m in the right neighborhood, now.

  Cole approached the doors into Wing C and tried the handles…locked, of course. Cole tapped one door near the latch with a fist…still nothing. Putting a little more effort into it still didn’t allow him entrance. Cole took a step back and put his back into a kick. He dented the door, but the latch still held.

  “Okay, fine,” Cole said and stomped back as far from the door way as he could. He turned and ran toward the doors.

  There wasn’t sufficient distance for something as massive on the human scale as a suit of heavy armor to build up much speed by the time Cole reached the doors into Detention Wing C, but Force equals Mass times Acceleration. Cole had acceleration in spades.

  Cole in his heavy armor collided with the doors and the door frame. In an ear-splitting, fine-crystal-shattering, tortured shriek of tearing metal, the four-inch-square center post snapped free from the floor and the ceiling and went flying over the raised control station like a bent and broken javelin, burying its first six inches into the concrete block wall on the far side of the space. The doors swung wide and struck the wall with such force that their reinforced hinges snapped, allowing the doors to perform a couple wobbling pirouettes before falling to the floor. Pieces of the hinges that snapped went flying, becoming unforeseen shrapnel and ricocheting off walls and projectile-proof glass.