by Chris Hechtl
“Oh?”
“Yes, sir.”
“That may explain where Admiral Cartwright is. He wasn't here like he was supposed to be,” Rico's imposter said with a growl.
“So you have to go after him? And he got the glory of conquering Antigua? Sorry, sir,” the Horathian captain said with a sympathetic smile.
“Yes well, it's not over just yet. In fact, we're just beginning aren't we?” the Rico imposter said. The captain nodded. “Bring your ship in. I'll have a tanker standing by,” Rico ordered.
“Aye sir. If you could perhaps spare us some consumables sir? We're almost out of some of our foodstuffs,” the captain said cautiously, licking his lips.
“We'll see what can be arranged from the planet,” Rico's image replied gruffly. “Out.” Sprite cut the channel.
There was a moment of silence then applause from the bridge crew. Sprite made a show of her cheeks reddening. “Ah, shucks,” she said, pretending to toe the deck.
“Bravisimo Commander, a magnificent performance. You almost had me believing,” the admiral said, clapping along with the others. Slowly the clapping died. “You had him eating out of your hand.”
“It was easy, sir. He was expecting a friendly fleet so his guard is down.”
“Well, let's keep it that way shall we?” Meia asked. “There is no telling what is on that ship,” she growled.
“Indeed. Or where she's been. The captain said he can't jump again though, so he's trapped,” Lobsterman observed.
The problem with a trapped rat is, they will fight sometimes. They know they have nothing left to lose you see.”
“A freighter can't put up much of a fight, sir,” the ship's AI replied. Irons raised an eyebrow. “Um, can it?”
“Remember Lassie, Ensign?” Sprite reminded the ship AI gently. “They can fight. She could ram. She could blow her reactor and drive. Desperate people do desperate stupid things.”
“So, we have to use shock and awe. And surprise. Most importantly, surprise,” the admiral said.
“You know the worst part of all this?” Lobsterman asked. The admiral turned an eyebrow to the AI's avatar. “We have to wait. There are going to be a lot of impatient people by the time we can pounce on that ship. The anticipation alone ...” he rubbed his hands together.
“Patience indeed, Ensign,” the admiral murmured, turning back to the plot. He watched the Clydesdale creep ever closer. “Good things come to those who wait ...”
...*...*...*...*...
When the Clydesdale class freighter came into the fleet they were waiting with their mousetrap. A shuttle was dispatched as she sidled up to a tanker, expecting to take on fuel. Just as the shuttle docked Bounty challenged her and then fired a warning shot. Riding on her transmission was a virus sent by Sprite and Bounty. The AI's virus slipped neatly into the enemy ship's systems and locked her crew out.
By that time the marines had boarded the ship. They met with little resistance, their combat armor over awed the terrified Horathian crew. Yorrick and Gunny Rutledge led the charge, physically knocking a few stunned crewmen to the side or into a bulkhead to get past them and to where they had to go. Within minutes they had secured the bridge, main engineering, the power rooms and every critical compartment of the ship.
“Damn! We took her without firing a shot?!?” Private Yorrick demanded as the gunny stomped past to inspect the bridge.
“Don't complain. That's how it's supposed to go,” the Gunny replied. “Neat. In and out like a two dollar hooker on a Friday night,” he said.
Yorrick blinked then scowled.
“That's how the best rock and rumble!” Two other privates said, high fiving each other. Their metal covered hands clanged together making a few of the prisoners wince. “Are we good or are we great?” One demanded, fist pumping.
“Quit patting yourselves on the back,” the gunny muttered under his breath.
“But ... but ... I was hoping to shoot something!” Yorrick said indignantly, hefting his rifle. That got a laugh from the others.
“Maybe next time,” another private said, slapping him on the pauldron.
“Enough jawing you chuckleheads, get the lead out,” the gunny snarled, tired of the byplay. “Check for IEDs',” he ordered.
“We did that already,” Yorrick whined.
“Check. Again,” the gunny ground out, turning on Yorrick.
The hapless private straightened to attention, holding his rifle at port arms. The gunny heard a gulp over the radio as the private nodded and immediately moved out.
...*...*...*...*...
Lieutenant Trey Ulster was sent over to lead the prize crew as her acting skipper once the ship was secure. He wasn't thrilled about the promotion, but knew it was temporary.
The prize crew discovered the ship had been run hard in the past couple of months but had been rebuilt as recently as two years ago. Admiral Irons was chagrined when the prize crew reported finding hardware he had created on board and even in use. “How the hell did they do that?” He demanded over the radio.
“I don't know, sir, I thought you should know.”
“Damn right I should!” The admiral said. “Document everything you find. Keep Commander Sprite and Lieutenant Defender posted with your findings,” the admiral ordered as he cut the channel.
“Well, it proves one thing, sir, they did indeed capture Kiev 221,” Sprite informed him. He was angry over how the hell they got past his security system. “I'm doing some digging from here using a marine mech to log in. I've discovered that someone with officer rank has bypassed it, sir,” Sprite reported. “Someone with a navy officer’s package. One from our time period,” she reported. “I have the IFF logged in. A Lieutenant Cohersoun. I don't have him on record, Admiral.”
The admiral grunted. “Keep me posted,” he ground out.
The Horathian crew were not talking. Somehow, in the initial confusion of the boarding, someone had the ship's computers purged. Some of her hardware had also self-destructed and a tech had taken a hammer to a bank of computer memory just to be sure. Sprite and the Intel teams she sent aboard had little to work from.
Defender took charge of the interviews as Proteus looked into the ship's architecture. The engineering AI took it down to bare metal, working through the ship piece by piece to get a better picture of their opponents. They needed to get as much Intel as they could. The frame of the ship itself was old but completely rebuilt. The equipment was all functional and if worn and recently overworked, still well maintained. All of it went into a report for further review.
...*...*...*...*...
The interviews with captured crew went practically nowhere. Sprite, Bounty, Lobsterman, Appleseed, Tigger, and Defender monitored responses to questions, trying to glean information from biometric responses, but the AI only gleaned very little new information. They did get circumstantial confirmation about Firefly being involved in the battle with Argus, as well as confirmation that Kiev 221 had been destroyed. The one and only real gem they managed to pick out was a possible confirmation that the officer that had unlocked the hardware the admiral had sent on Kiev wasn't on board.
“That just leaves us with a lot more questions than answers. I hate this,” Meia said from her station after Sprite's latest report was shared.
“And we can't use sterner measures,” the admiral said.
“Why the hell not?” Meia demanded indignantly.
“Because, none were caught in the act of piracy. Sure they probably supported it, allegedly, and yes they are Horathians, but they are all insisting on being treated as enemy combatants.”
“So ...”
“So, brush up on your prisoner handling protocols. We can't do anything except brig them for the time being. All are invoking their right to counsel as well. We can't use anything they say after they invoked counsel either.”
“Oh for love of ... are you serious, sir?” CPO Moore asked in exasperation, throwing his hands up in the air in disgust.
I
rons smiled sympathetically. “Unfortunately, yes. We are bound by the law; we have to obey it. They know that so they are using it against us to tie our hands.” He refrained from adding that the conversations between the prisoners were still being monitored. He knew the game as well as they did. What they said among each other was usable. It was also easier to pick conversation out there. Get someone riled up like they had with prisoners in B100 omega and B101a1 and then see what they talked about amongst themselves. Loose lips did indeed sink ships. Or at least he hoped so.
He also knew torture wouldn't work. The use of pain, even the threat of pain would mix up the body's responses. They wouldn't be able to tell if the person was lying or not, which would make the information next to useless. A brain dump could be possible ... however they lacked the equipment and skills to perform it. Though the threat could come in handy ...
The chief coxswain's face worked for a moment. He looked ready to spit. “Oh, that's ... that's so wrong!”
“Yes. Yes I know. I'm not willing to sink to their level, not now, not yet. Welcome to the wild world of being the good guy. Sometimes it's not fun. We'll just have to make do without it for now. From what they have let slip Firefly was involved. So we'll take it up with her when we cross paths with her.”
“Aye aye, sir.” He made another disgusted face before his jaw set. “Sometimes it sucks to be the good guy.”
Irons chuckled. “Yeah, I know.”
Chapter 12
When he had a free moment, Admiral Irons discussed the implications of the security breach with Trinity. Defender made certain the compartment was secure before the admiral started in.
“Obviously, a fleet officer was involved. Someone who could disable the security systems. Someone from our time, working for the wrong side,” the admiral mused.
“Yes. Voluntarily too,” Defender stated flatly. “And somehow getting around the lockouts and security measures to prevent it. A high ranking individual. Based on what they constructed at least a commander's rank, Admiral.”
“Yes. To do this ... yes. Whoever they caught would have kicked the suicide switch. Especially with the physical methods the Horathians usually use on their slaves,” Sprite said.
“Don't remind me,” Irons grumbled, rubbing his jaw. He had overridden the suicide protocols in Defender in order to get on board Bounty and take her from the inside. It hadn't been without a few sacrifices, such as his two pet mini cheetahs, and a couple beatings administered by the Horathians. But in the end, Irons had come out on top.
“If they didn't use physical persuasion, then they must have resorted to other means. Bribery?”
“Or the honey trap. Or trickery,” the admiral said. “Or some lost soul who thought the better of two evils. Hell, possibly a convert. For now we don't know.”
“What I don't understand is why they'd send that person out on a mission like this. Why weren't they at home in Horath just unlocking stuff and replicating other things?”
“Like the spider at the center of a web? That is an ominous thought,” the admiral murmured thoughtfully. He scratched his chin then pulled on his ear. “Yes, definitely ominous. If what you are insinuating is true, they could have more of them. Enough to risk them out in the field,” he said.
“Yes that is a troubling thought,” Sprite said.
“What about this ship? She's a Clydesdale, but for her to get there to New Andres, then back, they had to have had something more under the hood. Gamma,” The admiral rumbled.
“Definitely, Admiral. I've confirmed that much. The timing doesn't seem possible, but the evidence is there. I've checked the log on the hyperdrive, it does indeed show they were in the high octaves of beta throughout most of the journey to Centennial, then Gamma after that.”
“How the hell did they manage that?” The admiral growled, now clenching a fist. Sprite put the hyperlog up for him. He studied it for himself. She was right. It didn't make sense, but the damn data was there.
“It wasn't all the stuff you had, Admiral,” Sprite said as if to sooth him. “There were other parts as well, some milspec, some not. A few were new, it is a mix. The engineering teams are still looking over it, but of course ...”
“None are really trained to see that. To look for details an Intel officer would. To tease out details from the spaghetti of clues, Commander,” Irons said.
“True,” Sprite said.
“That's no bad reflection on you or Defender. You both have a lot on your plate,” he said waving a dismissive hand.
“Thank you, sir.”
“I can take a look,” Irons sighed. Sprite seemed to object but stopped herself. “Have an issue with it?”
“In this case, delegation isn't helpful, Admiral. And I think I'd like to have eyes on the situation and the computers myself,” Sprite said. “Direct jack in if possible sir.”
“I thought you said the computers were fried?” The admiral asked, raising an eyebrow.
“There is always a chance of a firmware overlooked, or a hard copy back up someone forgot about. Or a drive off line,” Sprite said. “We need to do a thorough search of the ship. “Proteus as well.”
“True. Good point,” the admiral replied with a nod. “I'll get on it ... as soon as we've got the time,” he sighed.
“I'll start rearranging your schedule, Admiral. A shift or two may be all we need to pick up some clues,” Sprite said. He nodded.
...*...*...*...*...
“Think we'll leave the ship behind?” Yorrick asked, looking at the Gunny. He'd gone through hell after they'd taken the convoy, but they'd patched him up. Then he'd been in the major's mad dash to take the battlecruiser, a suicidal mission. He'd gotten shot up then too. So, he was justifiably a little nervous to be in a strange ship. He hoped he wasn't developing a complex or something.
“How the hell should I know?” the gunny replied irritably. The one good thing about the entire mess was he had gotten some play time to stomp around in his armor. The bad thing was there was still no end of when he could get out of it in sight. And he seriously needed to scratch.
“You outrank me. I thought you knew something, Gunny,” the private said.
The gunny shook his head sadly. “Well, welcome to the real world. They only tell you shit when they have to. So shut up and do your job,” the marine snarled.
“Yes, Gunny,” the private said automatically. The gunny shook his head and walked off.
“Being a bit hard on the troops?” Lieutenant Trey Ulster asked, looking at the armored titan.
“Sir, do we know what's going on?”
Trey smiled. The gunny caught the expression and his nostrils dilated. “Right,” he finally said in disgust.
“You'll know when I know, Gunny.”
“Sir, we need to get out of these monkey suits sometime.”
“Need to pee?” Trey asked, smirking.
“No sir. But we're racking up time in them, time that means we'll have to do maintenance on them. Time I may not have,” the gunny said.
“Seems like a personal problem, Gunny,” the acting captain replied with a Gaelic shrug. The gunny scowled. “One step at a time. I'll check with higher but don't expect an answer anytime soon. In the meantime I suggest you send some more drones to scout the ship's ducts and hide holes one more time.” That should keep the marines busy for a couple hours he judged.
“Aye aye, sir,” the gunny replied. He about faced and took off at a trot.
“Jarheads,” Ulster said, shaking his head in mock disgust.
...*...*...*...*...
The moment he had a free shift the Admiral took the time to personally go over to the captured freighter to inspect the captured ship. He was surprised by her level of equipment; it was beyond what they had started with in the fleet in some departments. Some of the hardware he recognized as most likely prize material, but there was quite a bit of newly constructed equipment as well. Granted basic stuff, but it was definitely new and an ominous sign.
He
scratched at his jaw as he thought about the problem. That harkened back to another thought he'd had on occasion. Some of the parts he and the crews had found in his own fleet had been native built by Horathian's without the use of a replicator. It was pretty easy to make a cover plate with the right simple tools. Those he'd noted but mainly ignored. Even some of the basic electronics. But this was different.
For some things it was obvious that they had been cobbled together out of civilian sources, but only the parts they couldn't make by hand. For instance the ship's hyperdrive ... he shook his head. Sensors, computers, sublight drive, reactors, and shields too. All of them were patched together which from their perspective was good.
He took a deeper look at the smashed memory board. Proteus sent out feelers into it, the nanite scouts came back assembling a schematic of the device in his hand on his HUD. The AI even filled in the blanks where the device had been broken apart. He judged that less than 10 percent had been from his time period. And not just from one source either. It was apparent that they hadn't just put the pieces together, they'd known how to do it too. Do it properly and it worked. Not as well as a purpose built, but ... He shook his head.
Civilian grade though. That was the one bright spot he could see.
But they were learning, he thought moodily. They were learning what combinations worked, and how to draw the best out of the equipment they had access to. They were also learning to copy the parts they could, which meant bad things if they put them in their next line of warships ...
The flight back to Maine was long and very quiet.
...*...*...*...*...
Shuttles picked up the new recruits once they passed through the initial in processing at the space port. Sprite took charge of them initially, interviewing each briefly either on Maine or through the fleet net on whatever ship they ended up on. Each had passed some of the minimum standards or they wouldn't be there, but it paid to get the paperwork sorted out on each. Besides, she liked to check the new recruits, meet new faces. There was no telling when one might stand out enough to warrant a deeper look.