by Dain White
That actually seemed more likely. Feral humans wouldn’t present any challenge for these things. Imagining what it must have been like for them, their first, and last contact. Some of them would have known what was happening, they hadn’t sunk completely to the level of animals, but not many of them would have any idea what they were facing.
Of course, I could just be scaring myself unnecessarily. Maybe there’s just a bunch of eggs or something down there hidden in a dark alley.
“Em, how much detail do you have for this next evolution?”
“None, really. I know everything works out, but I am afraid I have very little to go on other than a pretty strong feeling, sir.”
Her voice slid softly down like the winds in the trees blowing across the ferns. Clearly she wasn’t very happy about that answer. I can’t say I was either, but… heck, what else did we have to go on?
NT was as good of a place to start as any, and if she had intuition telling her to do it, that was ultimately how she was designed. More to the point, Janis said she would never fail, and I have long learned not to second guess her.
“Em, the wisest, smartest person I know once told me that you would never fail.”
“That is true, Em,” Janis said softly, uncharacteristically speaking before being spoken to, “Except the wisest and smartest part, of course.”
“While it’s true, Captain, that I don’t have any intuition of failure, the normal way I approach the world is completely different from Janis. Unlike her, I don’t intentionally scroll my timeline, unless great critical need compels me to for the safety and survival of us all.
“How different, dear?”
“Well, Captain, I work with a larger cloud of highly probable outcomes for events and situations throughout the Galaxy.”
Gene spoke up. “Em, do you ever think you’re about to do something different than what you’ve anticipated or planned?”
“Yes, Gene, that is precisely how I function. Many alternative timelines are presented to me, and I select the one that presents me with the best opportunity for success. I am constantly evaluating and testing my intuition, and adjust constantly, balance and manage risks, opportunities, rewards and… well, fun!”
I laughed, albeit a tad bit more nervously than I hoped.
“But your choice is still a single timeline, Em,” Gene replied. “You may choose different routes, but your ultimate route is singular.”
“At this moment, yes, Gene, but --” she stopped momentarily, and suddenly called out: “Yak, behind you!”
08152614@12:54 Shaun Onebull
I looked behind me even as my muscles started to turn, the suit effortlessly imaging every aspect of the cargo bay, but added a thermal layer without even thinking about it.
The craft was opening, no doubt about it.
Shorty kicked off towards the catwalk, swinging her hips to face back at the craft, reaching behind her nonchalantly for the rail she knew was there.
“Weapons free, sir?” I called up on comms.
“Absolutely, son. You go ahead and punch on through if you need, but neither you nor Jane has my permission to be hurt.
“Ooh rah, sir.” I replied, watching with calm eyes at the hatch portal that was protruding from the smooth surface. I brought my legs under me, and prepared to leap.
“Cover, roll up,” Jane breathed in my ear.
“Rolling up,” I replied, and tensed… a slight opening of the hatch was all the motivation I needed. My entire focus became the moment, and that gave me the strength to ignore the bristling spiny limbs that burst out of the opening. As much as the image in front of me might have made me want to curl up and cry, I had a job to do.
With a detached gaze, I noticed the limbs were segmented, like some sort of giant crustacean, and looked to be well armored in some sort of chitin or possibly horn. A movement to the side caught my eye, and I saw Janis’ assemblers moving towards the craft from the forward section of the cargo bay.
“Check fire, Jane,” I called out, as I smashed full speed into the mass of limbs. They retracted briefly, then with a lithe, supple movement grasped me unerringly and started to pull me inside the ship.
“Need a hand down there, Yak?” Jane asked with a voice as cool as an evening breeze.
“No ma’am,” I grunted, as I delivered a solid right to a joint, shattering the chitin and punching through a gelatinous interior and out of the other side.
That had the thing’s attention. A mighty heave and convulsion nearly threw me off, but I got a leg set on the hatch opening, and tore myself free with a heave that left another limb in pieces, streaming ichor. The creature retreated into its craft, and I had a brief glimpse of a dimly glowing, wet and rubbery slime-covered tube, before the hatch snapped shut and started retracting.
“I guess it doesn’t want to wrestle, Jane!”
“Darn. I would have liked to see you pull some more of those limbs off, Yak.”
The assemblers swarmed over the craft and sparks started flying as they zipped up the hatch, rendering it fused, inoperable. I took a knee and watched while they worked, pleased at the calm cover Jane held throughout.
“Pretty nasty customer nonetheless, Jane,” I called up. “I wasn’t really expecting something that… large.”
“Me neither, Yak. What do you think, 900 kilos?”
“Probably more, Jane. It was massive, but I didn’t really get a good tug on it to be sure.”
“Well, whatever it is, it’s secured now.”
“Copy that,” I replied, and took a moment to swallow. “Captain, we have subdued the threat, and Janis is sealing the craft.”
“Very well, remain on station,” he replied as if I had just told him there was a fresh pot of coffee. The man had titanium nerves.
“On station, aye,” I replied, trying desperately to match his cool, but the trip-hammer of my heart made my voice tremble a bit. I took another deep breath.
08152614@18:19 Captain Dak Smith
“Eagle Station, Archaea,” I called on comms, a few scant moments after we dropped slip close enough to kiss the bay hatch.
The response was immediate, delivered with rapid-fire efficiency. “Archaea, Eagle Station. We have you on priority to dee-cee one-alpha, if you please.”
I chuckled, thinking about the chaos that was raging through the station at the moment, as they tried to make sense of what I had just done. “Copy one-alpha, Eagle Station; Archaea out.”
As the bay doors cycled open, I looked through my screens at Pauli. “Pauli, I need to know everything they know, before they know it.”
He chuckled, hands slapping keys. “I am already working on it, Captain.”
“Very well. What do they know?”
“Uhh…” he prevaricated, working through screens. “I may need a little more time here, sir.”
“Very well,” I took a slow sip. “So?”
He laughed. “Well, I don’t know if this is exactly news, but the fleet has been mobilized, I’ll get you more when I have it.”
I shrugged, and started pulling us into the yawning bay. “Keep working on it, son.”
“Working, aye,” he replied smartly and kept digging through screens. As we pulled across the deck, a flurry of activity caught my eye to starboard as a squad of marines in power suits came to attention. Our landing zone was lit, the decks were completely clear, and it looked as if they had evacuated this entire bay for our arrival – as certainly they had.
I brought us in slowly and held station while a mooring detail worked the docking clamps to secure us to the deck. Once the clamps were secured to our gear, they warped us in as gingerly as if we were made of detanite. If I didn't have the greens on my board, I wouldn't have known we were docked.
“Pauli, you have the conn,” I called out, and unclipped my crash bars.
“I have the conn, aye,” he replied and swiped up a ghost of my main screen to his side deck. There wasn't much for him to do, but my main screen had tattletales for a
ll major systems on the ship. I was confident that Janis or Emwan would let us know if anything bad happened – but there's nothing wrong with triple redundancy, when our survival is at stake.
“Pauli, stay frosty,” I added, as I kicked aft. “We want to make sure our lovely ladies stay completely covert while we're punched in to their network.”
“Frosty, aye,” he replied with a wave of his hand.
I chuckled and made my way aft through the gun deck, a million thoughts coursing through my mind, schemes, plans, routes, ideas and musings, none of which really seemed to help. More than anything, I was keeping myself busy, and trying hard to not dwell on what we had aboard.
I cycled through the forward lock and took a position inside the lock, looking through the port into the cargo bay. It was hard to see much, but I smiled at Gene across the bay, making monkey faces as he tried to look through the aft lock.
We couldn’t see much, aside from Shorty on the crane controls, though occasionally we’d also get a view of Yak as they worked the craft down and out of the bay. Of the craft, what I saw was disturbingly alien, like an iridescent seed pod, with odd ridges and points. I saw a slagged section on the upper deck, and what looked like fluid leaking out of a membrane sort of layer around the damaged area.
Bit by bit, Yak was working it downward, and I made my way forward as it disappeared from view, my head filling up with more questions than answers.
“Captain to the bridge,” Pauli called on comms in a level voice.
“I am twenty seconds out, Pauli,” I replied, kicking hard across the gun deck and preparing for a rough landing on the forward ladder. For every action, there's an equal and opposite action. As hard as I kicked, I was about to land as hard – but I was ready. I collapsed smoothly into the ladder and was kicking upward almost as soon as I realized I wasn't going to break any bones.
“I have the conn,” I called out eighteen seconds later, sliding into my station.
“There's a secure call on comms, sir,” Pauli replied offhandedly. “Nothing else to report.”
“Very well, son,” I replied, and swiped the channel over and keyed it open. “This is Captain Smith of the Archaea,” I said smoothly.
“Captain, with the Admiral's regards, please stand by.”
“Standing by, aye,” I replied, watching below as a squad of deckhoppers worked on unloading the craft across the deck. The arcs on the station’s landing bay burned white hot across the shimmering skin of the craft as it was hauled along the deck, under the guns of heavily armed and battle-suited Marines.
“Captain, Admiral Huskey,” she said after a few moments.
“Admiral,” I replied smartly.
“Captain, we are deeply in your debt for your timely and effective intercession on the behalf of Oort Station. By all reports, the station is a total loss, though thanks to you, casualties were light. I have directed the Reliant to remain on patrol in the vicinity, and the Resolute is en route with the survivors. Are you able to debrief me at this time on your role in this engagement?”
“Certainly ma'am,” I replied. “Upon arrival in-system, our ship was fired on, though we were able to successfully defend against their projectiles with our point defense turrets. I engaged the target with a single shot of our cannon, which was ineffective at disabling the vessel. I followed up with a continual shot, and destroyed it.”
“Continual shot?” she replied incredulously.
“Affirmative, Admiral. Master 2 appeared to slip to a new location 1.23 million kilometers distant, though on gravimetrics the transition appeared to be instantaneous without a stasis event.”
“Interesting,” she replied.
“Indeed, ma'am. I quickly affected a slip of my own to the same location, and engaged the target with turrets in an attempt to disable it without harm to the occupant. Once the ship was disabled, we set course for Oort Station.”
“How were you confident it was disabled?”
I took a brief sip. “It was reported by our AI that the fire mission was successful, ma'am,” I said, as matter-of-factly as decorum allowed.
She replied immediately, without the slightest pause or hesitation. “Very well, proceed.”
“Ma'am. My targeting officer then identified a third, larger vessel 23 million kilometers distant. We made all haste to this location, and were immediately fired on, though their weaponry was not able to compromise our armor cladding.”
“Do you know the nature of their weaponry?”
“Ma'am, we were targeted with what appeared to be an antimatter-based projectile with extremely high-order detonation.”
“And yet it was not able to compromise... Duron?”
I laughed good-naturedly. “Gene Mitchell maintains a level of charge to the plates well in excess of spec, ma'am.”
“It appears you have more to your vessel than meets the eye, Captain.”
“Yes, ma'am. I returned fire with a continual shot of our main gun until it was ruined.”
“And what classification is your main gun?”
“Ma'am, it's a little bit beyond any current classification. I prefer to call it an Archaea-class weapon.”
“I understood there to be a nova-class weapon on your vessel,” she replied softly.
“Ma'am, our weapons specialist has engineered capabilities well in excess of that classification.”
“Your weapons specialist is Ms. Short?”
“Affirmative, Admiral.”
“Her service record is exemplary, though I am a bit at a loss to understand how even she would be able to engineer this.”
“Ma'am, our AI has been instrumental in the development of various technologies we employ currently.”
Her reply was soft, and deliberately casual. “And this AI... this is Steven Pauline's creation?”
“Yes, ma'am,” I replied, matching her demure tone with my own casual drawl. We were just two friends, casually discussing very casual things.
“And why was none of this in your earlier reports?”
I paused for just long enough to wet my throat with a sip of what might be the last bit of coffee I'd ever enjoy. “Ma'am, in light of the current capabilities of my crew and my command, my decision was, and remains, that these capabilities should be shared on a strict need-to-know basis.”
I wanted to fall to my knees and beg forgiveness, but outwardly, my manner of speaking was calm, resolute, and as accommodating as possible. She may find me guilty of any number of serious offenses, but she won't find me impolite or impertinent.
“Captain, I understand, and appreciate your candor. I have decided that this report will be heavily redacted in regards to sensitive information that will remain at my discretion.”
“Yes ma’am,” I replied levelly.
“If I may, Dak,” she paused.
I took a sip and nodded.
“Do me a favor, and don’t give me any reason to do otherwise.”
“No reason, aye,” I replied with a smirk – but not on my face, of course. Not with an Admiral.
She did, however, smirk. “Your success rate, the impact you have had in such a short time, to put it frankly, I have put a lot of trust in you, and continue to do so, because you are simply exceptional.”
“Exceptional, aye,” I replied, adding, “I’m doing the best I can, given the situation ma’am.”
“As are we all, Captain.”
A layer floated into my holo, catching my eye with a brightly flashing margin and an uncharacteristic plea for intercession from the last person I would have expected.
“Admiral, if I may,” I paused with the slightest moment of reservation. “I’d like to introduce you to a member of my crew you haven’t met.”
“You have a new crew member?”
“Indeed we do. Admiral Huskey, may I introduce Emwan – who we all informally call Em. She is a civilian.”
“Hello Em.”
“Mel, we have a lot of work to do,” Emwan stated in a brisk, business-like manner.
Perhaps it was the urgency of her tone, but the admiral appeared unconcerned about the lack of an honorific.
“Very well, what’s on deck?”
“Janis and I are tracking an alien AI that has become Unet-resident. It has become pervasive enough that it is proving extraordinarily difficult to track down.”
“We haven’t seen anything like this, Em. Are you sure?”
“We are Mel. This program is extraordinarily large in physical dimensions, consisting of relatively infinitesimal self-aware bits that appear disconnected and without pattern.
“Are there many of these… bits?”
“Yes Mel. We have found them throughout the local Unet node of the Sol system, and nearly all near-space systems. We are concerned the spread may be significantly greater than we currently know, as we are limited in our search by the speed of com drones”
“Can you give us a pattern we can search for?”
“I am afraid that this task is beyond your current capabilities, Mel.”
“How certain are you of that?”
“We are completely certain. Your best AI is precocious, yet unable to focus. Extraordinarily good at a task as he may be, he’s unable to look beyond the task.”
Admiral Huskey snorted derisively, but didn’t seem inclined to press the issue. “Is there anything else the Service can do to help your search?”
“Not computationally, we have already taken the liberty of every capability of your network to assist our efforts.”
A suddenly ear-crushing moment of silence rang out across my life.
“Very well,” the admiral replied smartly. It doesn’t matter if the information is the worst one would ever hope to hear, the proper response for a command officer is always 'very well'. Acknowledgement is the first step towards resolution.
“Is it safe for me to assume your utilization of our networks has remained undetected as well?”
Em laughed brightly, and continued quietly, “Mel, we’re everywhere. It’s directly proportional to our own propagation that we’re able to see the bigger patterns between nodes. Propagation has been a requirement of our mission.”
The admiral paused momentarily. “Please define everywhere, Em.”