“Around a thousand kilometers,” Lawson said, looking at his console. “A hundred for the lasers, if we use them. The Freeman is at eight hundred klicks away and attempting to close, so they are well within range of the gauss turrets. I can use CAIN to treat the ship as an incoming hostile missile.”
“Not yet,” Ruthven said. “Let’s see if we can contact them, try and get them to wave off.”
“They’re trying to, I think,” Lawson said. “But radios are useless due to the electromagnetic pulse our engine spews out.”
“We’ve got laser comms, so let’s try and talk to them with that.”
Lawson tapped on his virtual keyboard. “Optical com-links engaged.”
“Attention, commander of the Freeman, this is the Virago,” Ruthven said. “I need you to stop your interception course attempt at us, over.”
A gruff male voice came on the com-link channel. “Virago, you are hereby ordered to decelerate and surrender your spacecraft. Otherwise we have orders to engage you, over.”
Lawson leaned forward on his chair, straining his crash webbing. The voice was familiar to him. “Roger, this is Vince Lawson, is that you, over?”
“It is,” the voice said. “Major Roger Starr, commander of the Freeman. Vince, I have orders to take you guys out. What you’ve done is treason. Surrender your spacecraft right now. For the love of God, tell your commander to give it up, over.”
“It’s not going to happen,” Ruthven said over the com-link. “We need you to back off right now or we will fire, over.”
There was only silence on the other line.
Lawson glanced at a new contact on his tactical screen. “They’ve just fired a missile at us, but its delta-v won’t be enough to reach us.”
“Have CAIN paint their spacecraft as an incoming hostile.”
Lawson didn’t hesitate. He relayed a confirmation to the ship’s AI when CAIN alerted him to the attempted missile attack. CAIN calculated the enemy spacecraft’s course and speed in less than a second, then partially opened up the Virago’s starboard Whipple shielding to expose the gauss point defense system, locked it on target, and fired several short bursts.
The gauss weaponry the Virago carried functioned as projectile accelerators. Using incredibly powerful magnets, these coilguns would speed up a solid slug into hypervelocity approaching thirty-one kilometers per second. The gauss defense weapons mounted on the retractable turrets fired small, 200 gram tungsten pellets that were designed to take out incoming enemy missiles at long range. Despite being over 800 kilometers away, the ordinance reached the opposing spacecraft in less than thirty seconds. The Freeman had no armor protection, and its cylindrically shaped hull sustained multiple punctures from the high velocity shot, like a hundred white-hot knives passing through a wall of butter. The USAF spacecraft soon lost all power, becoming nothing more than a drifting, metallic hulk in the vacuum of space.
They all stayed silent while seeing the wrecked hull of the Freeman rapidly recede from their long range camera feeds. Lawson tilted his head down before quickly regaining his composure. Roger Starr had been a friend, now he wasn’t even sure if anyone in that stricken ship was still alive. A part of him hoped that the Air Force would begin rescue operations as quickly as possible to recover any survivors.
For a long minute, Ruthven stared at his executive officer before saying something. “Are you okay, Vince?”
“Yes, sir,” Lawson said almost immediately.
“We knew this would happen, right?”
“We did,” Lawson said softly. “I hope that we make it worth our while.”
Ruthven turned his head and stared into his console again. “We will. Count on it.”
Chapter 20
Stilicho Jones sat on the crash chair while facing the ceiling, his webbing strapped tight so he could only move his extremities partially. The USAF emergency space capsule he was riding in had a very drab interior, with gray paint, flat screen instrumentation panels, and not much else. The cabin seemed cramped, as the other chairs had been removed to make room for boxes of supplies which would be going up with him. Even though he had an immediate dislike for going out into space, he was already missing the stylish interiors of the ACE Corp spaceships, with their roomier cabins, clean lines and white, neon-trimmed designs.
Looking out at the windows located alongside the capsule’s nosecone, he could see the clear blue sky above the spacecraft. Vandenberg Air Force base at the Southern California coast had been a hive of activity centered on the very rocket he was sitting in, and now he was tasked to dock with an Air Force patrol craft in low Earth orbit. Sitting alongside of him in a separate crash chair was Captain Keith Emerson. The towering space trooper looked downright intimidating while wearing his own skinsuit as he chatted with Ground Control using a private channel. The pair of them were minutes way from launch.
A buzzing noise on Stilicho’s earpiece made him tap the side of his helmet to engage the com-links. “Yeah?”
Maia’s calm, reassuring voice was on the other line. “Hello, Stil. I just wanted to let you know that I am enjoying this new, optical server you’ve put my suite in.”
Stilicho smirked. “Well, I can’t have you short out on me again. If we’re ever going to get close to Virago, then it’s an optical network all the way from here on out. I’ll need to get within line of sight range so you could hack into that damned thing.”
“I have a call coming in from Errol Flux, will you take it?”
Stilicho exhaled slowly. He was fully suited up, and the mist of his exhaling breath temporarily fogged up the lower part of his visor. “Sure, why not? Put him on.”
Errol’s voice came through loud and clear. “Hey, old buddy. How’s it going?”
“You tell me, Errol.”
His boss’s voice had an apologetic tone to it. “I know this is a raw deal for you, but Trevor Ledwidge said you’re the only one who can operate Maia. Then again, you’re more of a backup plan anyway, he assured me the Air Force Orion fleet will take care of the problem. So I guess this will just be a short trip into space for you, and then back home again to your comfy retirement.”
He shook his head. “We both know that’s bullchip, Errol. I had Maia look at the numbers. She told me the Virago outclasses even a dozen Orion battlecruisers. It’s just way too fast and too heavily-armed. It's in a class of its own.”
There was a slight pause before Errol replied. “Okay, I guess you’re too smart for the pep talk these days. I’d just hate to lose you, pal.”
“I’d hate to lose myself,” Stilicho said. “But I guess now it’s time to play human sacrifice in space for patriotism’s sake. God do I hate it.”
“This plan you cooked up, I think it makes sense.”
“Of course it does,” Stilicho said. “I’m your top problem solver, remember? These Air Force generals are stupid; all they believe in is brute force. You can’t outfight something like the Virago. The only way to take care of it is to go after its fuel, that’s why I need to get at that ACE Corp tanker that’s missing out there- it’s the key to all of this.”
“Your plan is solid, everyone knows that,” Errol said. “Even Ledwidge does. But the Air Force has got to find a way to burn up the Virago’s fuel, and that’s why they’re deploying.”
“Yeah, burn the Virago’s fuel by sacrificing themselves.”
“They got no choice,” Errol said. “The Chinese have recalled their ambassador and are demanding an explanation as to what just happened to their space station. The UN is calling an emergency meeting as we speak. Even the president is preparing a national address to the nation.”
Stilicho was confused. “Huh? I must have been out of the loop. I just came direct from Argus Base and now I’m suited up. What happened?”
“Seems the Virago did a flyby near their space station in orbit and knocked out its electronic systems,” Errol said. “The hundred or so crewmembers aboard are running out of air, so the Chinese are scrambling to mount a
rescue operation. I’m currently mobilizing all available ACE Corp rockets to serve as a rescue fleet in case of any more incidents like this happens, but my engineers have to harden their gear against an electromagnetic pulse like the one Virago produces, just in case it tries it again.”
“How very philanthropic of you, Errol.”
“I don’t know whether you were kidding or insulting me, Stil.”
“Both?”
“I’ll give you that,” Errol said. “Only because I’d hate to lose someone of your caliber. So get back here safe and sound, or I’m going to kick your ass.”
“I’m so very touched by your concern for my well-being, Errol.”
“Alright, if you need anything, stay in touch.”
“I will, talk to you later.”
Maia’s voice was heard again the moment the com-link shut off. “Stil, I have been analyzing the preliminary reports from the investigation currently underway over at Argus Base.”
“Give me the gist of it, and try and contact Darian for me while you’re at it, I haven’t heard from her since she went inside that place.”
“It seems things are more complicated than we’ve previously thought,” Maia said. “General Luther Tobias- the base commander- was apparently in on the heist. He was the one who sent in a command signal from the Ground Control Room to open the roof canopy of the launch facility.”
“Jesus. How many traitors do they have in the Air Force? What happened to him anyway?”
“General Tobias locked himself in the Ground Control Room during the incident. When USAF Security Forces breached the door, he shot himself in the head. It seems he killed everyone in the room before that. Casualties included NASA Special Agent Tyler Dvorak.”
“Oh my God, what about Darian? Is she dead too?”
“I am unable to find Darian. She’s missing,” Maia said.
“What?”
“One of the casualties was an unidentified female found naked in the astronaut locker room, just a few access corridors away from the launch site. She was not a member of the Air Force, nor is she affiliated with ACE Corp. The US authorities have so far been unable to identify this woman, but I have spent some time searching through world databases for anyone who matches her biometric data,” Maia said.
Stilicho tried to cross his arms, but he couldn’t. He was getting impatient. “And?”
“I may have found a correlation. There were corroborating records listed in the United Kingdom’s secure government servers that I could not initially access, but I figured that this was an emergency so I was able to make a successful intrusion attempt into their database and got some partial information on who she may be.”
Stilicho sighed. “So tell me who you think she is already!”
“There is an eighty percent probability that her name is Kate Sturgis,” Maia said. “American father, mother is British. Her records indicate that she was employed as a freelance operative for a number of clandestine missions with the UK’s Secret Intelligence Service, commonly known as MI6. Four years ago, she went rogue, and disappeared from their network.”
“She turned traitor against the Brits? Any idea why?”
“Miss Sturgis may have been severely injured in her last mission while working with them,” Maia said. “Her medical records indicate that she had sustained extensive damage to her arms, and was grafted with cybernetic implants. These advanced procedures must have cost a fortune, and I doubt that MI6 could have facilitated it since she wasn’t directly employed with them.”
“So the Brits had plausible deniability with her and let her go as soon as she was no longer useful,” Stilicho said. “I guess she’s got the motive to go after them, but that doesn’t explain why she was part of a team to steal the Virago though.”
“Based on her psychological profile, perhaps it is a form of payback for the cybernetic implants she had been given,” Maia said. “Her secret employers might have financed her new arms in exchange for her tradecraft skills.”
“Did you analyze the cyberwear she had on yet?”
“Not yet, the Air Force forensics team will schedule an autopsy on her body later today. When they put up the results in their database I can then access it,” Maia said. “But judging from the preliminary pictures taken from the scene where her body was found, the cybernetic implants look state of the art, and there’s only one firm that specializes in something as complex as the hardware she had on.”
Stilicho nodded. “Cybernax Industries, a subsidiary of the Urizen Holdings Group. Why am I not surprised?”
“Wasn’t Cybernax the company that attempted a hostile takeover of RUR Industries?”
“They attempted it,” Stilicho said. “But thanks to me, Errol found out about the dummy stock trading accounts they were using, and was able to swoop in and save Karl Rossum’s company at the last minute- by merging it with ACE Corp.”
“That evidently didn’t go over well with the Urizen Group chairman,” Maia said.
“Errol and Tyrus Faust have been at each other’s throats for as long as I could remember,” Stilicho said. “It’s personal for both of them. If Urizen is behind this heist, I wouldn’t be surprised. Tyrus Faust has long coveted ACE Corp’s colony franchise on Mars, and they have employed spies to find out about Errol’s fusion project, and I’ve spent years fighting them off.”
“But Urizen Group is already a huge conglomerate,” Maia said. “They own most of the best locations on the Moon and are leading the way to mining the Asteroid Belt. I don’t understand why humans would go to such lengths to beat out their competitors when they already have so much.”
“That’s because you’re a machine, Maia,” Stilicho said. “Greed and pride are human emotions, and we have unlimited amounts of them. Errol and Tyrus have the exact same kind of personality- they’re both trillionaires and want to be on top- and there’s only room for one.”
“You describe a strange concept I have yet to grasp,” Maia said.
“It’s because you think in terms of logic,” Stilicho said. “Human beings aren’t logical most of the time, we’re ruled by our emotions.”
“I see,” Maia said.
“So what have you got on Darian’s possible whereabouts?”
“In addition to the deceased body, the forensics team at the locker room also recovered discarded clothing that did not belong to Kate Sturgis, but instead was previously worn by Darian.”
Stilicho’s eyebrows shot up. “Wait a minute … was there a skinsuit found in the room too?”
“Apparently Kate Sturgis did possess a skinsuit, but it is missing,” Maia said. “Both Kate and Darian have the same height and general build.”
“Jesus H Christ, she’s on the Virago?”
“There is a high probability that she is indeed inside the stolen spacecraft,” Maia said. “The last security recordings that I was able to salvage from the Launch Bay showed two people wearing skinsuits making their way into the spacecraft. One of them was clearly female, and it looked like she was slightly injured.”
“So if she’s inside, then maybe we might have a chance,” Stilicho said excitedly.
“Unfortunately, the US government’s official word on the matter is that the entire crew of the Virago be treated as hostiles unless they surrender,” Maia said. “Standing orders for all Air Force spacecraft are to engage and destroy the Virago.”
Stilicho grimaced. “Oh Christ, I want you to send a detailed email report on Darian and the suspicions we have on Urizen over to Errol. Perhaps he can convince Ledwidge about it.”
“You don’t want to talk to the president’s advisor yourself?”
Stilicho shook his head. “No, I’m sick and tired of his threats against me. Let Errol handle things.”
Captain Keith Emerson finished the pre-flight checks on his console. He turned to look at Stilicho. “Are you ready to go, Jones?”
Stilicho shrugged. “Do I have a choice?”
Emerson smiled faintly at him. “I g
uess not.” He then turned, looked into the console in front of him and initiated the autolaunch sequence.
Stilicho glanced at his suit’s padded forearm. “This is similar to the skinsuit I wore on Mars, but it looks different. I was expecting to wear diapers, but they didn’t give me any this time.”
Emerson chuckled a bit. “What you’re wearing now is an Air Force Block-Four skinsuit. It’s been modified since your last excursion on Mars. It’s got optical com-links and a hardened personal server to protect against EMPs. You also don’t need to wear a diaper with this new suit. In your crotch area is a small airlock where you can place moisture and waste absorbing sanitary pads, those can be found in your hip pocket. You can even do that during an EVA.”
“Whoa, that’s good,” Stilicho said. “At least now I don’t have to say goo-goo gaga like a newborn anymore, nor do I feel like a senile old man who can’t control his bladder. You don’t know how humiliating it was to wear a diaper.”
“This new suit also has heating and cooling coils that can maintain proper body temperature during long endurance EVAs,” Emerson said. “Even the life support pack on your back has been redesigned- now it’s a lot smaller, and you can quick change the carbon dioxide filters in less than three seconds,” Emerson said.
“I guess the only thing you can’t do is eat while in a vacuum, eh?”
Emerson shook his head. “Not recommended. The last thing you want is a bout of nausea while wearing a helmet. Eating food might bring you to that state.”
“Are you always this serious?”
“Only when I’m working.”
“Which is all the time,” Stilicho said. “So what now?”
Emerson pointed at the readouts on his console. “We launch to low Earth orbit in the capsule, there we match velocities and dock with one of our patrol craft- she’s currently being refueled in orbit as we speak.”
“Didn’t everybody get their rockets away from Earth’s orbit when the Virago launched?”
“They did,” Emerson said, “but the Virago is now at high Earth orbit and heading out.”
Virago One: A Hard Science Fiction Technothriller (Ace of Space Book 2) Page 19