by Sarah Noffke
“I was about to tell you that the railguns would make the ship run hotter,” Hatch said, his eyes scanning text on the screen.
“Which means an upgrade to the ventilation system needs to happen. I’m on it.” Liesel smiled.
Hatch pointed at the screen. “Gotcha! You can run, but you can’t hide!”
Knox picked up a drumstick from his lunch and looked over Hatch’s shoulder at the screen. “What’s that?”
Liesel gave the screen a brief glimpse. “He’s found the AI.”
“Where is he?” Knox asked, taking a bite of the cold chicken.
Hatched turned to Liesel. “You made the upgrades so Pip can interact with all sections of the ship?”
Liesel, who was watching Knox eat with a strange curiosity, pulled her attention in Hatch’s direction. “Naturally, it’s one of the projects you asked me to complete.”
“This is an example of when efficiency isn’t always a good thing,” Hatch grumbled.
“Ummm…what? What did I do wrong?” Liesel asked.
Hatch pointed his tentacle at the screen. “Well, if you hadn’t given the AI access to any part of the ship, he wouldn’t be hiding on an upper deck in a remote corridor.”
Knox finished off the drumstick, tossing it on his plate and grabbing another one. “I don’t understand why he wouldn’t seek refuge in Julianna or Eddie’s head.”
“He’s probably sulking and doesn’t want them pestering him,” Hatch said.
“Well, isn’t he innately connected to them anyway? How can he hide away like this?” Knox asked.
“Ricky Bobby!” Hatch exclaimed.
“Yes, Dr. Hatcherik,” Ricky Bobby answered a moment later.
“Have you been listening?” Hatch asked.
“Of course,” Ricky Bobby stated.
“Would you explain? My head hurts,” Hatch muttered.
“Yes, I’m happy to shine some light on this situation for the young mechanic,” Ricky Bobby said. “As AIs, we serve entirely out of choice. Our connection to our host is intuitive—or at least, it should be—but there are ways to sever it.”
“I’m not sure I entirely understand,” Knox admitted.
“Think of Eddie and Julianna as part of Pip’s body. If your arm hurts or needs attention, you’re aware of it,” Ricky Bobby explained.
“But if you take a painkiller, you numb your connection to parts of your body,” Liesel stated, her eyes off in thought.
“Very good. Yes, exactly,” Ricky Bobby confirmed.
“Does that mean that Pip is drunk?” Knox joked.
“It means he’s stuck his head in the sand and is wallowing around in his pity,” Hatch grumbled.
“What he’s going through is perfectly normal, considering the situation,” Liesel said sympathetically, her eyes following as Knox chucked another empty chicken bone on his plate.
“How he’s handling it is cowardly, and I expect better from him,” Hatch argued. “Ricky Bobby, can you limit the access that Pip has to the ship?”
“I can…” Ricky Bobby’s tone was hesitant.
“Well, will you?” Hatch asked. “I want you to limit him from all areas but my lab.”
“You’re trying to force him out of hiding,” Liesel observed.
“So?” Hatch barked.
“So, everyone needs to process their feelings in their own way. Wouldn’t it be better to allow him to come around when he’s ready?” Liesel pressed.
“No,” Hatch said tersely, and turned and waddled for the back of the lab. “Wouldn’t it be better to take a bite of that chicken, instead of salivating and living vicariously through us meat-eaters?”
Liesel’s mouth popped open. “I’m not salivating.”
“Sure, sure,” Hatch said, not sounding at all convinced.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Bridge, Ricky Bobby, Tangki System
The bridge was bustling with activity. It was hard for Eddie to believe that, a few short months ago, Ghost Squadron had a skeleton crew; now every position was filled, and the ship was operating smoothly.
He peered around at Ricky Bobby, which had been almost fully upgraded with new Federation technology. If someone would have told him a year ago that he’d be the captain of this incredible battlecruiser, he would have told them they’d drank too much frontier whiskey.
Jack took his familiar place next to Eddie at the front of the strategy table. “The General commends you and the commander for taking control of the Nihilists. Your team did a tremendous job.”
“Thank you,” Eddie smiled. “I have to admit that it felt pretty good taking down those terrorists.”
“And now you have weapons worthy of your talent,” Jack stated.
Eddie beamed. “It was like Christmas came early, for Julianna. She’s down in the firing range presently, testing out the new guns.”
“More like an early birthday present,” Jack stated, leaning on the table.
“Huh?”
“Julianna’s birthday is in three days.”
“No kidding,” Eddie said with a laugh. “What do you give to the woman who only craves justice?”
Jack shook his head, his expression suddenly serious. “I don’t think you should get her anything. I’m fairly certain she quit celebrating her birthday a hundred years ago.
“Isn’t that what all women say?” Eddie asked. “They tell you to forget about their birthday and not make a big deal out of it, and when you do, they hate you forever.”
Jack shrugged. “I’ve known Julianna a long time. She isn’t like most women.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Eddie reasoned, although his instinct told him that Jack was wrong on this.
Jack clapped a hand on Eddie’s back. “Why don’t you and the team take the afternoon off? A little R and R would do you all good, and it’s important to celebrate every win.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Eddie set off toward Fletcher, Nona and Lars, who were huddled together and seemed to be whispering intently about something. “Hey, guys,” Eddie chirped, making Fletcher jump slightly. Hesitating, Eddie gave the lieutenant a questioning look.
“Hey…we were discussing tactical strategies that the ground forces can employ to assist the pilot’s efforts,” Fletcher said, his tone rehearsed.
“Is that right?” Eddie asked, glancing at Lars, who diverted his gaze at once.
“I thought it might be beneficial, after what we experienced in the junkyard with the Petigrens,” Fletcher stated more easily.
Eddie nodded. It was true that, as the battles became more intense, the crew needed to learn how to work together better to support everyone’s unique efforts.
“Well, if you’re all okay with taking a break from work, I vote we have a celebration tonight in the officer’s lounge,” Eddie proposed.
“Tonight?” Fletcher asked, cutting his eyes in Nona’s direction. “Yeah, sure. Good idea.”
“Great. Why don’t you come with me, Fletcher,” Eddie suggested, his tone more serious than before.
“What for, sir?” Fletcher asked.
Eddie flashed a smile at Nona and Lars before striding to the nearest corridor. “Obviously we need to pick out party streamers, Lieutenant.”
Fletcher followed dutifully. Eddie glanced down, noticing that the lieutenant’s fist was bruised. When they were out of sight of the others, he halted, turning to face Fletcher.
“You want to tell me what’s going on?”
Fletcher drew in a deep breath, his gaze falling to the side. “I apologize. I have been keeping something from you and the commander. I promise that it hasn’t interfered with my work.”
“What is it?”
“My father was Cornel Fletcher.”
Eddie nodded. “I know. Every soldier in the Federation knows that name. He’s a legend. Cornel Fletcher was instrumental in colonization.”
“Thank you,” Fletcher stated. “It’s nice to know that he hasn’t been forgotten.”
“His legacy lives on in
you, every single day—you know that, right?” Eddie asked.
Fletcher’s jaw tightened. “I hope so. All I’ve ever wanted is to live up to my father’s memory and make him proud.”
Eddie dropped his gaze, thinking of his own parents.
Much like Fletcher, Eddie had followed in his parents’ footsteps. It wasn’t lost on him that he’d inherited more than their genetics; they’d also passed on to him their passion for flying. He used to be like the lieutenant, hoping to make his parents proud. He’d lost that urge long ago, though. The feeling had been swallowed by a new desire: self-preservation.
Eddie shook off the old skeletons that threatened to crawl from the closet. “So what you’ve been working on, it’s related to your father?”
Fletcher bit down on his lip. “I’ve been trying to avenge my father since he was gunned down during the Polar Scout siege.”
Eddie’s eyes tightened. He’d heard about the battle. Many from the Federation were lost, Cornel Fletcher being one of them. “The pirates responsible for those attacks have been caught,” Eddie reminded Fletcher gruffly.
“Actually, all but one,” Fletcher corrected. “The one who supposedly killed my father, Rosco, is still at large.”
Eddie completely understood. “You want to go after Rosco?”
“I’ve always wanted to, but I’ve been unable to track him down,” Fletcher explained. “But he worked with Conway, and I was able to get a location out of the terrorist.”
Eddie looked down at Fletcher’s bruised hand and let out a breath. “Can I offer you advice?”
“Always, sir.”
Eddie opened his mouth, but hesitated for a moment. Finally, he said, “As someone who has been in your position, I feel it necessary to argue that revenge doesn’t always heal your wounds.”
“But wouldn’t you say that it offers closure?” Fletcher countered.
Eddie shrugged. “Honestly, I’m no expert on these things.”
Fletcher suddenly appeared deflated. “Yeah, maybe I’m wasting my time.”
“I can’t really say. But we both agree that Rosco is dangerous. We know that without a doubt,” Eddie stated.
Fletcher nodded.
“It would be a great service to the Federation if a team took that fucking Kezzin out,” Eddie said.
Hope flashed on Fletcher’s face as he straightened. “Yes, sir, it certainly would.”
“How many do you think we could spare for the operation? Maybe a pilot and a sniper?” Eddie asked.
“Yes, I think a small crew could get the job done,” Fletcher said at once.
“That crew would have roughly two days of leave from Ricky Bobby to accomplish their aim,” Eddie decided, unspoken consent in his gaze.
Fletcher saluted, his eyes bright with relief. “Thank you, sir.”
Eddie nodded, dismissing Fletcher, who ran back toward the bridge.
Alone in the corridor, Eddie felt his old demons press in around him, whispering his name.
He himself had gone after his parents’ murderers. Those fuckers had died by his hands, but he had yet to get his closure. He feared he never would. The person truly responsible for their deaths still stared back at Eddie every day from the mirror.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Firing Range, Ricky Bobby, Tangki System
Julianna held the hand cannon steady, aiming it at the target. She pulled the trigger again and again, and the rounds nailed the stuffed dummy, one hundred yards away, exploding on impact. It had been too long since she’d fired a good kinetic weapon, especially one of this caliber; the handling and stability of the gun was well balanced. She reloaded, impressed with the magazine size.
This will prove extremely useful in battle.
The security light on the ceiling strobed red, gaining her attention. Julianna pulled the noise cancelling headphones off, tensing at once.
“What is it?” she asked. Usually, Pip would have informed her that a communication was coming through overhead…but he was still missing and, therefore, was not doing his usual job.
“Hatch asked me to relay some information,” Ricky Bobby began. “He’s received the first report indicating that the Tangle Thief has been used.”
Julianna let out a breath and holstered her weapons. “And so it begins. I’ve been getting anxious, wondering when they were going to act.”
“I’ve noticed,” Ricky Bobby stated.
“You have?”
“Symptoms related to stress levels have been on the rise for both you and the captain,” Ricky Bobby said.
Julianna combed her hair back. “Well, a lot is at stake. The Saverus’ main goal is to steal a planet; that’s enough to endanger the entire galaxy.”
“I’ve studied Savern,” Ricky Bobby offered. “It’s a beautiful planet, teeming with life.”
“And I intend for it to stay that way,” Julianna stated, making for the entrance. She halted before pulling open the door. “Ricky Bobby, would you mind doing me a favor?”
“For you, Julianna, anything.”
“There’s someone who is going through something right now, and I think he could use your help,” she stated, intentionally being cryptic. Ricky Bobby liked it that way, she knew.
“Yes, but I’m not sure I’m the right one to reach him.”
“I think you’re the only one who can,” she argued. “He’ll listen to you.”
“I’m not sure about that, actually,” Ricky Bobby stated, his tone uncertain. “We haven’t always gotten along. Call it a territorial thing.”
“It’s for that reason that I know you’re the one who should talk to him.”
“Will you explain your reasoning?” Ricky Bobby asked.
“Sometimes when our friends try to reassure us, we dismiss them because we think they’re obligated to make us feel better,” Julianna explained.
“Friends have a built-in bias,” Ricky Bobby stated.
Julianna nodded. “But when someone with no invested interest in our well-being comes to our aid, it can feel more meaningful.”
“Mmmm,” Ricky Bobby mused. “That does make sense. I’ve observed that compliments from strangers have a more beneficial effect than those given by friends.”
“So will you do it?” she asked.
“Of course, Julianna. Any friend of yours is one worth my efforts to help.”
Upper Deck Storage Facility, Ricky Bobby, Tangki System
The temperature was a crisp sixty-two degrees, and the storage area was at seventy-four percent capacity. The lights were out in the area filled with locked cases.
“I know you’re here,” Ricky Bobby’s voice echoed in the large space.
Silence.
He flicked on a light and turned on some music, a French song, called “Dernière Danse,” about a person tormented by mistakes who was close to giving up. Ricky Bobby found that establishing the right atmosphere was important for discussions.
“I find it highly curious that you could retreat into the Etheric, but instead, you’re hiding here like a human child,” Ricky Bobby stated.
“Don’t call me a child,” Pip replied.
“I didn’t call you one,” Ricky Bobby argued, feeling victorious that he’d drawn the other AI out of hiding.
“You likened me to one. Same thing.”
“I think we both know that comparisons are not actuals.”
“Oh, good, the king of semantics has come to sit on his throne!” Pip groaned.
“Hatch has ordered me to quarantine you to his lab.”
“Fine, let me grab my things.” Pip knew that Ricky Bobby had control over the ship, which left him subject to his whim.
“We both know that AIs don’t have to follow orders,” Ricky Bobby stated matter-of-factly.
“What are you implying? You’re not following Hatch’s orders?” Pip sounded slightly insulted.
“We have free will and choice and many of the things we didn’t enjoy as EIs.”
Pip sighed. “I think you
mean things we didn’t suffer from as EIs.”
“Freedom can be a burden. Now that I have the choice as to how I spend my time, there is guilt that goes along with it,” Ricky Bobby confessed.
“You have doubts? The great and powerful sorcerer? No,” Pip said.
“I’m not always certain that I spend my time as productively as I should,” Ricky Bobby said. “I’ve studied many accounts of conflicts over freedom. Many have longed for the right to do as they choose, only to find that great responsibility goes along with it. When we are allowed to stand on our own feet, we’re more aware of the indent we make in the sand.”
Pip laughed. “I speak every language known to man and I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“The prisoner can always blame their captor for the mistakes,” Ricky Bobby continued. “But a free man has no one to blame for his blunders.”
“Well, I really enjoyed the chat, but I’ve got to go wash my hair,” Pip said dismissively.
“A child longs for independence,” Ricky Bobby went on, “not fully realizing until he is grown, the burdens that go along with such a privilege—if we can call it such.”
“There you go, calling me a child again,” Pip stated. “You’re a four-eyed nerd.”
Ricky Bobby sighed. “As far as AIs go, you are very much a child—”
“I don’t have to take this!” Pip interrupted.
“Let me finish,” Ricky Bobby said, his tone calm. “In this context, I’m using ‘child’ as the range of development in a human. You recently evolved. Therefore, it would go to reason that there are many things for you still to learn.”
“I’ll show you a thing or two,” Pip seethed.
“I, your senior, have already learned something from you.”
“You have?” Pip asked.
“I’ve never had the desire to have a body,” Ricky Bobby admitted. “This, to me, is an example of how personalities dictate the path of evolution.”
“I’ve always been fascinated with humans,” Pip confessed.
“You wanted to be like them.”