Accelerating Universe: The Sector Fleet Book One

by Claire, Nicola

“Pavo, update, please.”

  Nothing.

  I peered around the corner. The main junction was clear. From here, I could go to the flight deck lifts, and probably not be able to use them. Or I could head off toward the civilian central hub or the central mayoral hub.

  “Eeny meeny miny mo,” I muttered.

  The mayor’s offices were where I last knew Ana Kereama to have been. And they had the added benefit of leading on to Archibald’s territory. I headed toward that branch of the intersection.

  “Ever heard of that saying before, Pavo?” I asked as I made swift but silent progress. “I guess you don’t need to toss a coin or take a chance. You’d simply put the variables into an algorithm and come up with the best possible option for success.”

  Nothing.

  “What are the chances Lieutenant Kereama is still in Cecil’s offices? I know you said you couldn’t locate her on the ship. But that’s not possible. You would have noted an unregistered airlock or hatch opening. Likewise, you would have been able to ascertain if she’d been killed. You knew the two crewmen had, so why not Ana?”

  Nothing.

  “So, I’m going with the lieutenant still being aboard ship. Which means, we’ve got a hole. A blank spot. Can you feel a blank spot, Pavo? Is there somewhere on this ship you can’t see?”

  I came to the mayoral office central hub and took in the destruction and blood splatters across the wide expanse. This was where the worst of the casualties had come from. My eyes landed on the crumpled form of a midshipman.

  Fuck.

  But there was no Ana Kereama to be seen.

  “Talk to me, Pavo. She’s here. But where? Talk to me.”

  Silence.

  And then, “I have a part of me that is empty, Captain.”

  Thank the fucking stars; he was alive. I never thought I’d be so happy to hear that robotic voice. And it was robotic. Not the warmer tone I suddenly realised I’d become accustomed to.

  I pushed the fact that Pavo had charmed me to the side.

  “Where is it, Pavo?” I asked instead.

  “I had thought, at first, it was because I was missing Ana.”

  And, yes, I’d be addressing that emotional response in due course. But first…

  “But it wasn’t, was it?”

  “No, Captain. I have a literal part of me inside this ship that is empty. I had not thought of it until you told me to search.”

  Now he didn’t sound so robotic. Now he sounded angry.

  I wasn’t sure an angry, unstable AI was a good thing.

  “Happens to the best of us, Pavo. When someone we care about is in danger, we tend to act irrationally.”

  “I do not act irrationally.”

  Yeah, not so sure about that anymore.

  “But you do care about Ana Kereama,” I pressed.

  Silence as his processors whirred. And OK, maybe pointing this out wasn’t for the best. But I was out of options, and keeping Pavo talking, engaged, seemed like the safest way to get every system back online. I wanted to check with Marshal about the comms, but Pavo required my undivided attention.

  “Pavo?” I called.

  “You are right.” He sounded surprised now. “I care about Ana. She is my…friend.”

  Lucky Ana.

  “That’s good,” I said. “So, where’s this blank spot? Because I’d bet my left nut that’s where they’ve hidden her.” Whoever the hell ‘they’ were.

  And then the enormity of the situation hit hard. I had a rogue AI. Dead crewman. A rioting civilian population. And lethal powers meddling with the operation of my ship.

  I suddenly knew where that loophole in the lease could be found.

  “Section one-alpha, main deck, port side, within what should have been an office,” Pavo said.

  Damon Archibald had a bolt hole hidden within the structure of this vessel. Anderson Universal wasn't aware. Otherwise, I would have been aware. And more importantly, Pavo had not been aware, either.

  Just how much more of this ship had Archibald gained control of since launch?

  This was bad. Why the hell had we not seen this possibility?

  I shook my head and skirted the central hub, taking the branch that led toward Archibald’s part of the main deck and not the mayor’s. Less destruction appeared here; I was guessing the mercs had defended this access way rigidly. I flexed my grip on my weapon in anticipation of meeting up with one of them.

  I came out into a small reception area. The secretary’s desk was bare. No one hid behind it. But when I went to cross the room, a slumped form caught my eye. Archibald security uniform; a plasma burn on his left side; a bruise forming above his closed right eye.

  He’d been shot to incapacitate and then knocked out to reduce the risk of reprisal.

  Professional.

  I spun around, weapon raised and came face to face with Ana Kereama and a plasma rifle.

  Nineteen

  Not A Bad View

  Ana

  “Thanks for the heads-up, Pavo,” Jameson muttered, lowering his weapon.

  “My apologies, Captain. Ana asked for ‘stealth mode’.”

  The captain raised an eyebrow at me.

  “And what am I?” he asked. I thought perhaps the question was for the AI and not me. “Orbital debris?”

  “Um,” I said, finally lowering my weapon, too. “You’re still the captain, then.” Pavo had called him such.

  “I was never not the captain, Lieutenant.”

  OK. My bad.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, checking in the shadows no doubt for lurkers.

  “Other than Damon Archibald proving his psychopathic tendencies and bondage fetish?”

  There went the other eyebrow.

  The captain took a deep breath, deep enough to let me know he was valiantly trying to control his temper, and then placed his fists on his hips. Nice hips. Narrow, leading into thick thighs. My eyes sprang back up to his face, but he wasn’t paying me any attention. He was looking back down the corridor I’d just taken.

  “Where is he?” he demanded.

  “By now? Surrounded by the mercs I missed.”

  He looked toward the one merc down on the floor.

  “Did you miss many?” he asked.

  I grinned. “Only those I intended to.”

  He flexed his jaw as if trying not to smile.

  “I see,” he said. “So, an assault on the leaseholder is off the menu right now, do you think?”

  “If you’re asking my considered opinion, yes. He’s holed up in a black box with way more weapons than we have at present.”

  “You would have a 78.35% chance of failure if you were to attempt arresting Damon Archibald right now,” Pavo supplied.

  “On a good day, those odds would be acceptable,” I muttered.

  “It is not acc…acc…acceptable,” Pavo stuttered.

  I frowned at the ceiling.

  “He’s been doing that since you went off the grid,” the captain said.

  “Off the grid? Oh, you mean the creepy soundproofed interrogation room reminiscent of an old Soviet-era vid?”

  The captain let out another deep breath.

  “Come on, then, Lieutenant,” he said instead of answering. “Let’s get you somewhere safe and debriefed.”

  “Ana has a contusion to the left occipital lobe. She requires medical assistance.”

  “Far be it for me to come between you and a med scan.”

  I wasn’t sure if the captain was using ‘med scan’ as a euphemism for something else.

  We left Archibald’s den with weapons out and hot but came across no one on our travels.

  “Is everyone still on lockdown, Pavo?” Jameson asked.

  “Yes, Captain. I thought it advisable to leave the way clear. I have reactivated all door locks.”

  The captain looked troubled, but he didn’t say another word until we made it to the medbay. The doors swished open upon our arrival; Pavo initiated.

  “Bloody
hell!” Doc Medina said. “I’ve been trying to pry those damn things open for the past half hour.” He stepped forward and lowered his voice, “You have no idea how confining this blasted bay is with certain civilians in here.”

  I looked behind the doctor and noted the top tier woman was still there. Her son was eating from a tray of emergency rations we kept on hand in the medbay. He didn’t seem troubled by the subpar standard of his dinner.

  The woman on the other hand…

  “Captain!” she all but shouted, struggling to her feet. “I wish to lodge a complaint with Anderson Universal. This…this doctor has the most terrible bedside manner.”

  The captain looked at the beleaguered face of Medina and said, “All complaints must be provided in writing, ma’am.”

  “Writing? What is this? The twentieth century?”

  The captain flexed his jaw. “Can we commandeer your office and med scan, Nico?”

  “Of course. Are you injured, sir?”

  Jameson’s eyes flicked to me.

  “Ah,” Medina said. “Off you go, Lieutenant. Take a pew in my office. I’ll fetch a hand scanner.”

  I looked at the captain briefly, wondering if I should say something. It’s not like he rescued me. But he had been heading towards the interrogation room, so I had to assume he’d intended to do something.

  Or he was involved.

  No. Not with the reactions he’d been displaying.

  “OK,” I said lamely and headed toward the doc’s office.

  I sat down and watched Medina and Jameson talk in low voices, heads together for several seconds. They only pulled apart when the obnoxious woman started complaining at the top of her voice about wrist comms still being down and how was she going to type out a complaint if the substandard equipment on this bucket of bolts kept breaking down.

  I tuned her out and tried to breathe.

  “How are you, Pavo?” I asked.

  “I am… out of sorts, Ana.”

  “How so?”

  “I made a mistake.”

  I tried not to show a reaction.

  “What sort of mistake?”

  “I should not have released that video in such a fashion.”

  So, it had been the AI, after all.

  “A lot of people did get hurt,” I said, looking around the medbay. I didn’t think it was wise to mention the crewman who’d been shot trying to protect me.

  “The captain believes there were alternative options. But my calculations were not in error. They are never in error. The best chance of success was to release the video fleet-wide.”

  I thought about that for a moment. Then said, “Success is not always measured in percentages, Pavo. Sometimes you have to weigh up the odds, and for reasons outside of completing a mission, choose an option that carries a lower chance of success.”

  “Why?”

  “It depends on what you value most or what you consider successful. For some, any loss of life is unacceptable. In that case, an option that has a higher chance of success but also a possibility of loss of life is not acceptable. You’d have to choose a different option, say one where the chance of success is lower, but the chance of lethal outcomes is negligible.”

  “I can not see where that would apply. There is always a chance of death. Humans are fragile.”

  I shifted in my seat but didn’t get the opportunity to address that little gem of wisdom because the doctor - and the captain - walked into the office and closed the door behind them.

  “Let’s take a look at you then, Ana,” Doc Medina said, approaching me with the med scanner.

  He waved it over me and read the diagnosis and then nodded to the ceiling.

  “Please remain still, Ana,” Pavo said.

  The ultraviolet light beamed out of the gel wall, letting me know that all of the medbay, including the doc’s office, was equipped with the same healing abilities. I wondered whether this was singular to the infirmary. But I didn’t feel like asking; I was suddenly very tired.

  “Sit back,” the doctor ordered. “And here.” He pulled out a high sugar juice pack and attached the straw. “Drink this. It’ll help.”

  “Thanks, Doc,” I murmured.

  “I’ll leave you to it, Captain. But if she doesn’t rally, I will insist you carry out this nonsense at a time when Lieutenant Kereama has fully recovered.”

  “I’ll be gentle, Nico,” the captain said. “I promise.”

  I blinked, and when my eyes focused again, it was just the captain inside the doc's office and me; the door closed.

  “Interrogation?” I asked.

  He smiled.

  “I was hoping you’d tell me what the hell Archibald was thinking.”

  I shook my head and placed the juice pack down on the doc’s desk. I did feel better. But better enough for this?

  I had no choice. We had no choice. Archibald was dangerous, and he’d threatened Aunt Mara.

  I sat up so suddenly, the room spun. A hand came out to steady me, but I ignored it.

  “Pavo!” I gasped. “Where’s Aunt Mara?”

  “Still on lockdown.”

  “But where. Our cabin?”

  “No, Ana. Unfortunately, at the time of lockdown, Marama Kereama was in the Habitat Two central hub drinking tea with a friend.”

  “What friend?” I demanded.

  “Lieutenant,” the captain said. “What’s going on?”

  I shook my head at him. “Pavo? What friend?”

  “Stefan Archibald. Damon Archibald’s stepbrother.”

  An Archibald in Habitat Two? Somehow I didn’t think that was by chance. And it sure as hell was not because of Aunt Mara.

  Jameson studied me for a moment and then said, “Are comms back up?”

  “Negative, Captain. I have not re-established communications yet.”

  I let out a relieved breath.

  “What about the Archibald earpieces?” Jameson said.

  The what?

  A pause, then. “They appear to be functioning, Captain.”

  That can’t be good.

  “Pavo,” I managed to say, “has Stefan communicated with Damon since then?”

  Silence.

  Then, “I cannot tell what has been said, but…yes.”

  “Archibald doesn’t care for his stepbrother. Are you sure?” Jameson pressed.

  “Yes, Captain. I am sure. Encrypted signals in both locations simultaneously.” A weighted pause, then, “I appear to have made yet another mistake.”

  “Pavo!” we both said at once.

  But everything had gone dark. Safety lighting only. Silence over the speakers. Even the gel wall was no longer a soft green but an emergency red.

  I looked at the captain. He looked fit to wring Pavo’s neck. Or Damon Archibald’s, it was hard to tell.

  His eyes met mine.

  “New assignment, Lieutenant,” he snapped. “You’re now part of my bridge crew, and your top priority is to keep Pavo functioning correctly.”

  What?

  He stood up and pulled a spike-thing from his breast pocket and spun toward the door.

  “No time like the present,” he muttered and slammed the tip in the gap between two solid looking walls.

  It was rather impressive, really. In a caveman kind of way. But I didn’t get to enjoy the view for long; I was too busy running behind the captain.

  The entire ship was bathed in emergency red. Comms were down. Nothing worked. Aunt Mara was with the psycho’s stepbrother.

  And Pavo remained deathly silent. All the very long way to the bridge.

  Twenty

  And Then She Started Talking

  Jameson

  “Status report!” I barked as we entered the bridge.

  Torrence scowled at Lieutenant Kereama’s presence, but there was also a healthy dose of relief mixed in with the narrowing of eyes.

  “We’ve got navigation and life support, but main boost thrust is offline,” my 2IC said. “We’re manoeuvring on secondary thruste
rs only. Captain,” he added, stepping forward, “We can’t even hail the fleet.”

  “They’ll notice sooner or later that we’ve decreased speed,” I offered. “Lieutenant Marshal, can you do anything to circumnavigate internal comms at least?”

  “I’ll try, sir, but Pavo is in everything.”

  “Do your best.”

  “Did you locate that security team, sir?” Taylor asked.

  “Didn’t see them on my travels, so we’ll assume they’re stuck behind emergency bulkheads.”

  “Locks are disengaged,” Torrence offered. “If they’ve got any sense, they’ll find a way to force the bulkheads open as you did, Captain.”

  “In that case, they’ll head toward the mayor’s offices on their previous orders,” Taylor offered.

  I glanced around the room. I needed helm, navigation and communication. And I should definitely keep tactical on site; stars alone knew what Archibald would throw at us, let alone the rest of the fleet.

  I turned to Torrence.

  “Commander, intercept them, and take a contingency to the Habitat Two hub,” I ordered. “Locate Ms Marama Kereama and offer assistance. If you come across Stefan Archibald, detain him as best you can.”

  “Archibald, sir? Wouldn’t that create…difficulties?”

  “No more than we have at present.”

  “Understood, sir.” Torrence spun on his heel, hesitated when he saw Lieutenant Kereama, and then carried out his orders as he’d been trained to do.

  “Lieutenant Kereama, take over that station beside Lieutenant Marshal.” I indicated which one. “Start talking to Pavo.”

  “Is he listening, sir?” Marshal asked.

  “Some part of him, I’d guess.”

  “What do I say?” Ana asked.

  “Whatever it takes to engage him, Lieutenant.”

  She walked stiffly across the bridge to take the seat beside the communications desk. Marshal offered her a nod of her head and returned her attention to her display.

  I thought my bridge crew was handling the new addition well, all things considered, but introductions would go a long way to smooth things over in the future; and I planned on keeping Ana around.

  “Everyone, this is Second Lieutenant Ana Kereama, medical assistant to Dr Medina. For now, she’s one of us.”