Starship Defender: Beyond Human Space
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Starship Defender
Copyright© 2016 Michael Keats. All Rights Reserved.
The best ship in human history is based on stolen alien tech… and now its inventors want it back.
Years ago, a group of aliens crashed onto Earth, and we used their tech to improve ours. Mankind expected to create faster-than-light engines, conquer the stars, and join the league of technologically advanced space civilizations without facing any difficulties. Humanity was short-sighted.
When Commander O’Donnell first boarded the Defender, he didn’t plan to defy Fleet Command, become an outlaw, steal the best ship in human history, or fight our ugly alien cousins. Nobody ever said that fighting a technologically advanced alien race was easy.
Now that the aliens’ friends have arrived, Earth’s only hope rests upon the shoulders of an unorthodox commander and an insubordinate ship AI. A galactic war is brewing. And we’re likely to lose.
If the Defender falls, humanity is doomed. Better find somewhere to hide.
Chapter 1
“I love the smell of treason.” Harry took a deep breath and sat on the central table in the great cabin. “Quiet crew, tense officers, and the constant reminder that life’s short.” Harry wasn’t your typical perfectly-uniformed holographic avatar. Instead, he had a rough and weathered face and he was balding. “Today’s the best day in the year. Can’t wait for the men to drag the poor devil to the noose and tighten it around his neck. You should hang someone daily.”
Out of thousands of sexy female avatars aboard the Navy’s best starships, engineers didn’t have any decent avatars for mine. The Defender, the first of her kind and our first ship with faster-than-light capabilities, had ended up with a rough and intimidating guy as her avatar.
And he had drinking problems.
“Stage fright, buddy?” Harry raised a holographic mug in my direction. He’d torn the sleeves of his holographic uniform, and he flexed his biceps to show off. “Stop being such an elitist ass and join me for some drinks, will you?”
Harry had a dark side: he’d boasted a wide grin on his face since the moment he’d heard the man’s sentence.
The idea of a public hanging had almost made me throw up. I didn’t want to witness or lead an execution, but it came as part of my job duties: keep the peace, lead the men, and hang anyone who doesn’t follow the rules. I should’ve studied something else in college.
“A hanging’s much more fun when you’re drunk,” Harry insisted. “Or are you planning to free the man after everything he’s done?”
“I’m not thirsty,” I said.
Welcome to my life as a commander: I was in charge during the admiral’s absence, I had to deal with an insubordinate ship AI, and a man had tried to desert. Fleet Command had issued swift justice and tasked me with the man’s public execution to discourage others from following suit.
The poor man hadn’t done much aside from joining the Navy to feed his family. The prospect of going on a mission to unknown space might be attractive to adventurers, but family men prefer to stay at home and let others become the heroes.
Many men and women would’ve joined voluntarily to explore the universe; it’s in our blood. Instead, Fleet Command had preferred to send pressed men and criminals who had joined the Navy to avoid a sentence. And then they complained and gave harsh sentences to the men who deserted.
We’d become one of the most powerful fleets in the world, and we were acting like centuries ago. Humanity has its highs and its lows, and something was broken in our society.
I wasn’t going to complain, though. As the Defender’s commander, I had the second largest cabin aboard the ship, access to an unlimited supply of food, and standing rights on the bridge. These kinds of luxuries only come at someone else’s expense. I won’t fight against being at the top of the pyramid. I’d rather remain neutral than let someone chop my head off for starting a revolt. Not that a rebellion would change anything.
I’d stared out of the ship cabin’s windows for hours to avoid the hanging. The Defender’s gravity plating had substituted rotating decks, and we had real windows instead of using screens that emulated windows. I’d tell you about the beauty of Earth from space, but I don’t want you to think that I’m profound. Profound people are boring.
I was just delaying the unavoidable because I hate seeing a man exhale his last breath. Fleet Command sentences men to death daily, but officers are tasked with the dirty work.
Perhaps Harry was right and I needed a drink.
I joined Harry at the great cabin’s central table. The table was covered with a thin layer of a dark blue quick-clean polymer. The Navy no longer sought to imitate wooden furniture aboard the Defender. We were a next-generation ship, and everyone wanted to show it off.
Stealing some tech and design knowledge from aliens had helped us with the tech, but none of the scientists in the project ever mentioned that our best ship was based on stolen tech. It would make them seem less smart.
I took a glass and poured some water into it. We used bottles instead of drink dispensers like in earlier starship models because dirt and grime clogged the pipes of the dispensers and everyone caught food bugs. Starship crews aren’t as neat as TV ads want everyone to think.
“Water?” Harry groaned and tried to knock the glass off the table, but his holographic hand moved through it. “What kind of decaffeinated commander drinks water before a hanging?”
“And what kind of computer insults the officer in charge?”
“I’m an artificial intelligence, not a computer.” Harry raised a threatening finger at me. If he’d been made of flesh and bones, I’d have feared for my life. Yeah, he was rather scary and looked like a weathered criminal. “There’s a big difference between both. Or would you like me to call you chimp? I don’t see much difference between humans and monkeys either.”
“I’m an officer,” I said, “and you’re supposed to work for me, not spend the day drinking.”
Harry laughed through his nose so hard that some bourbon came out of his nostrils. He coughed to get rid of the drink in his trachea. He wasn’t real, but he acted real enough. “Bad joke.” He hit his chest with a fist to clear the rest of his trachea. “I’m an AI, remember? I have a mind of my own and I might agree or disagree with you. Drinking helps me tolerate you better.” He hiccupped loudly and let out a drunken laugh.
“Can you stop acting drunk for a change?” I said. “You’re a hologram. You can’t get drunk.”
“Can you be more racist?” he said, outraged. “I might be a hologram, but I’ve added a couple of tricks to my repertoire. And at least I’ve earned my job here. You, on the other hand…” He made a bribing gesture and gave me a broad grin. “Yeah, I’ve read your record. Or are you telling me that your almighty father hasn’t played a part in your promotion?”
What did my father have to do in this? I might have come from one of the oldest naval families, but I’d won piloting contests, strategy simulations, and I’d earned top grades at command school. Command ran through my veins. My father hadn’t helped me climb anywhere.
In fact, I’d worked my ass off to get a promotion. I’d tried to join many of the missions to different planets, and I’d been unsuccessful in all my attempts. If my dad had helped me, someone would’ve offered me a position sooner. Admiral Graff had handpicked me to act as his commander, the second most powerful person aboard the ship, because I’d served as an ensign under him. His only condition had been not to murder him to get command of the most advanced ship that humanity had ever beheld. Most men would kill to get command of the Defender. I was not one of them. I was a rule-abiding and honorable fool.
The D
efender’s well worth killing for, though. She’s more powerful than most of our fleet, combined. Flying her makes you feel invincible.
“You can’t hide in the great cabin forever; you know?” Harry said. “Someone needs to command the ship until the admiral arrives. And to witness the hanging. Come on, buddy. Let’s go and kill the traitor.”
I had to kill the man before the admiral arrived, but Admiral Graff hadn’t even left Earth yet. I had more than enough time to delay the execution.
One of the ensigns knocked and the door slid open. He walked in with a tablet in his trembling hands. He looked no older than 18, a junior ensign, and his eyes looked around the cabin in admiration. This was probably his first assignment, and the lucky lad had joined the Defender.
“What is it?” I said.
“Admiral Graff, sir,” the ensign said. “He’s on his way and he’ll be here within the hour.”
An hour? Nobody had told me of his departure from Earth. I was supposed to make preparations. And to hang the traitor.
“My fault.” Harry shook his mug in the air. “Earth sent a note a while ago. We were chatting and I forgot. I should stop drinking. Bad for the brain.”
Curse him. I had less than an hour left to get ready for the admiral’s arrival and to follow Fleet Command’s orders. I hate killing men in a hurry. Makes the whole ritual much less solemn.
“Tell security to bring the deserter,” I said. “And gather the crew on the top deck to witness the execution.”
“Aye, sir.” The kid opened his eyes wide and left in a hurry. We both knew what was going to happen, but neither of us was going to change it.
The ensign was too scared to do anything and I was too immersed in the status quo to risk my life and my career for a man who’d ignored his duty. What can you expect from a man who swears a vow and breaks it? Exactly; if he isn’t killed, you’ll end up with twenty like him the following day.
I hate being Fleet Command’s executioner, though.
“Bring me a plank!” Harry covered one of his eyes with his palm and raised the other fist in the air. “I want to dump this good-for-nothing into space to teach him a lesson.” He jumped out of his seat and headed for the door. “Come on, Decaf! We need to get there before all the good seats are taken.” He ran out of the great cabin.
And this, dear friends, is the most advanced artificial intelligence aboard a starship. I personally preferred the sexier avatars; they were less confrontational and didn’t have a dark side. I’d known Harry for a day, and he’d already gotten himself drunk, called me decaffeinated, and avoided relaying an important message from Fleet Command.
I didn’t need much longer to know that he’d cause me lots of trouble.
Chapter 2
A public hanging always makes the crew go silent. I hadn’t witnessed many deserter executions, but nobody deserted the Navy before the Defender. Now that we were about to explore the unknown, the men were restless. They feared finding something that would end our existence.
Most of the pressed seamen aboard the Defender had considered desertion at some point, but the execution was going to make them think twice before taking action.
I walked amongst the crew wearing my navy blue uniform with a cape over my right shoulder. Commanders wore a cape over their right shoulder when they were serving as commanders, and over their left if they were subcommanders. A commander’s cape wasn’t too ornamented: it was blue and lined in red, matching the red on our forearms and double-breasted jacket’s buttons.
The crew stared at me from their positions. Some looked in awe; others, with hatred. I was a pawn merely following orders from Fleet Command, but the crew considered me responsible for it. The man wouldn’t have deserted if he hadn’t been forced to join the Defender in the first place. I couldn’t disagree with them, but that’s the way things worked. They had their duty; I had mine.
Do I sound detached? It’s the direct consequence of serving in the Navy for long enough to forget about childhood dreams of heroism and adventure. The modern Navy was about human waste control, about fixing broken circuits, and about feeding the crew. Human waste control was our main priority, though: you don’t want broken plumbing systems with over a hundred men shitting daily. The Navy was broken and my complaints didn’t fix anything. I had an execution to attend.
Edward Norton shared my first name, but that’s our only thing in common. I’d joined the Navy voluntarily to continue a family tradition, but he’d been pressed for stealing a few lumps of bread to feed his kids. From what his service sheet said, he’d never earned any promotions and rarely got into fights.
Everyone always tells their kids to follow their hearts. Well this is what happens when grown men follow their hearts. Norton didn’t want to join the Defender’s mission, and he was going to die for leaving.
The marines took care of most of the ritual. Our captain of marines, a fierce redhead with a threatening expression, gave a solemn talk to the men and threatened to pull them up and hang them if any of them made a noise. She was slim and perfectly built and wore a tight uniform that marked her perfect curves, but her face showed no empathy towards human life or her fellow crewmen. She was only interested in doing her job, and her job was to hang a man.
Some of our engineers had prepared a platform and a sturdy rope for the hanging, and the captain of marines had climbed onto it to take a hands-on approach during the execution. Several of her men were in charge of escorting the man to the platform, and others guarded the area. They readied their weapons in case someone decided to play the hero.
I stood near the room’s entrance, away from the crew. I didn’t want to stand in the middle of the action, but my presence was required to ensure that nobody mistreated the condemned man. Norton was going to be hanged; he surely didn’t care if someone insulted him along the way.
“Look!” Harry stood to my right and gestured excitedly at the platform in the center of the room. “It’s about to start!” He turned to look at me and frowned. “How can you be so boring? This is a public hanging. My first as an AI and your first as a commander. It’s a historical moment! You should be glad to be in charge.”
I ignored Harry and gestured at the captain of marines to start the ritual. She nodded at her men and they brought the man to the platform.
I’d given the marines clear instructions to let the deserter walk on his own and step onto the platform. He was going to die anyway, but no man deserves to be dragged to the butcher like a common beast. Harry had complained about it like about every other decision I made, but the marines had accepted it.
The deserter looked like most of the ordinary seamen: weathered and old, and tired after awaiting death for several hours. He walked, glancing fearfully at the crowd and praying for a last-minute miracle.
Swift justice aboard a starship guarantees that the crew knows the consequences of their actions, but the crew was torn between smiles and resentment. Some men enjoyed the thought of watching an execution even if one of their brothers was about to die. Others considered me a butcher, even though I’d only boarded the ship a few hours earlier.
The man stopped before the platform, and hesitated before stepping towards an unavoidable death. One of the marines pushed him forward, and he tripped on the stairs. The captain of marines pulled him up and tied the noose around his neck. He didn’t struggle, fight back, or plead for mercy; he wanted to take some dignity with him to the afterlife.
The captain of marines looked at him with disdain and without any appreciation of his last efforts. Men can be brave or cowards when facing their death. This man was fighting his fears to take the consequences of his desertion as best as he could.
Don’t take me wrong; I did sympathize with him, but he should’ve acted like the rest of the crew and stayed aboard the ship. The rules were the rules. We all knew what happened to men who abandoned their brothers: they died publicly and theatrically.
Harry rubbed his hands together, awaiting the man’s death.r />
Hooke, the captain of marines, looked at me through those intense dark eyes of hers. She wanted me to signal her to kill the man, and she didn’t want to wait.
The man struggled and trembled. His hands shook in his bindings, but he straightened up and stared at me. His head nodded slowly. I gave the order to Hooke, and she pulled the lever. Waiting for him to be ready was the least I could do.
You’ve probably seen the rest of the story hundreds of times: dropping, struggling, swinging, and stopping all movement.
Bile went up to my mouth. I hate killing people for no reason, and I hate doing it publicly.
The crowd cheered and clapped in excitement. Savages.
“Whoa!” Harry clapped and cheered with the crew, and elbowed me holographically. “Have you seen it? It’s awesome.”
Whoever had decided to make frivolous machines deserved to have a long chat with me. Or better yet: with the captain of marines, and on the hanging platform. Machines should’ve remained as helpers, not as individual thinkers. Placing an independent-minded computer aboard the best ship in history couldn’t end well.
“Can we kill someone else?” Harry insisted. “You’ve already brought out the platform and gathered the men; it won’t be a nuisance to execute someone else.”
“We’re done for the day,” I told him.
“But you can sentence someone else,” Harry said. “Come on. I’m new at this. I don’t know much about human life, but this is part of your history. Men have killed other men for silly reasons for centuries. It’s fun, and it puts you on a power trip. Bring out the horses, the ropes. Let’s hang, draw, and quarter someone!”
This wasn’t about fun; this was about duty and honor. Nobody could break his word and his contract with the Navy freely, or everyone would do so the following day. We were in charge of keeping the peace. That’s the role of officers.
Harry rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to like this mission,” he said. “I don’t have any authority, and everyone acts as though they piss perfume. Know what? I’ve analyzed your piss, and it stinks just like everyone else’s. And you need to eat less sodium; your levels are too high.”