Raw Justice

by Martyn J. Pass

  I kept up the pace and managed to clear the deck before Baz reported his first assault.

  “Here we go!” he said with a certain unnerving amount of glee. “Contact!”

  The last pod vanished into space, sucking out more bodies just before the tear was sealed. Already my HUD was calculating a course down to the next deck which was two above engineering. Before the rivets had even fired I was gone, sprinting back to the stairwell and checking the ammo counter in the corner of my display.

  “They've opened the doors!” cried Baz. “Moving to protect Mozzy now.”

  “How many?”

  “A lot!” he bellowed over his own gunfire. “They're swarming my position. GRENADE!”

  An explosion ran down the comms line and made me wince. I reached the stairwell and stopped momentarily, considering running to back him up. I decided against it.

  “Mason, help Baz!” I said. “I've got to get these breaches sealed.”

  “I'm already moving,” he replied. “But now we know they're hacking our systems they'll head for the bridge next.”

  “Do what you can but if it looks like they're heading there, all of you fall back to secure it. Understood?”

  “Understood. Stand by.”

  I swore under my breath but carried on moving down. With only Thor to protect Jo and the engines, I had to make the difficult call on which was more important to our survival. In a cold, detached mind, Mozzy's death was secondary to keeping the ship in the air. If they were able to take over the Hikane, we were screwed anyway.

  Just then I felt the ship rock beneath me and the armor warned me that it was compensating for the turbulence. There was a low rumble, then a sudden shock as something big impacted the hull.

  “What now?” I said. “More ships?”

  “We're blind,” said Mason. “It could be. Keep going, Carter. Clear those decks.”

  I moved downwards, feeling my stomach knot. If another Death Squad craft had caught up with us then we were doomed. It wasn't like we could negotiate with them. They'd complete their mission and destroy the ship with us inside it.

  I reached the lower deck and came under fire immediately. I blew apart two of them and took the arm off another. It tried to continue its task, but another two rounds took off its head at the neck.

  I heard an explosion up ahead and my HUD flashed a warning light – incoming targets that were not Death Squad. The scanners had detected armored units emerging from the hull that could only mean that there was now another boarding craft attached to us.

  I moved into cover at the intersection and dropped to one knee, changing magazines. Three shapes marked by green dots were moving rapidly towards me. I took a deep breath and waited.

  “MARINES MARINES MARINES” blared down the corridor towards me. “Stand down!”

  I stood up and lowered my weapon. Around the corner three heavily armored figures moved into view and I sighed with relief. They crossed the deck with effortless grace in FARGO exo-shells, weapons raised, and they secured the intersection with the skill of practiced ship-boarders.

  “Carter?” said the nearest. I nodded. “Henderson. We're from the Pearl. What's your situation?”

  “Multiple boarding pods have allowed synths to gain access to most of the ship. They're primarily targeting our bridge, engineering and living quarters. We have a high-value asset currently being protected there.”

  “Understood.” He spoke into his own secure comms for a moment before turning back to me. “I've sent teams six and three to engineering and team four to the bridge. Let's move.”

  I led the way to the stairwell and up to the living deck with the Marines in tow. There we encountered heavy fighting and the corridors were scorched black with gunfire and the burning bodies of dead synths.

  “MOVE MOVE MOVE,” ordered Henderson and with well-disciplined strikes the Marines swept through each hallway and room, slaughtering as they went with cool precision. I made my way to Mozzy's room, killing two more who'd sheltered in an open doorway as Mason laid down heavy fire.

  “Friendly coming in,” I called.

  “About time,” said Baz. “That was hairy.”

  “We've just had our asses saved,” I replied. “I guess God loves TRIDENT.”

  “Did I hear right?” asked Mason. “They're from the Pearl?” I nodded. “Hell, that's impeccable timing.”

  “How's our asset?”

  “Alive but shook up. Mozzy regained consciousness and tried to join in but Jimmy sat him down. He's strong for such a little guy.”

  “Good. We'll wait for the Marines to do their job and then stand down.” I spoke into my comms. “Jo – status?”

  “Alive. Barely,” she replied. “Thor nearly torched the Marines but they managed to identify themselves quickly enough for him to stop.”

  I relaxed a little and looked about. The place was a mess. The air was thick with smoke and the stench of burning plastic and it seemed that the décor of the ship had taken the brunt of the attack. On her maiden voyage, we'd nearly written her off already.

  “She doesn't look as pretty now,” said Baz. “Shame.”

  Mason scowled down at the carpet.

  “That synthetic blood will be a bitch to get out of the shag-pile.”

  21

  The Pearl came alongside us and attached multiple tow cables to the Hikane before setting off at low speed. She hadn't finished her own repairs since last we'd met but it seemed that the important work had been completed enough for them to be able to come to our aid.

  “When you'd reported your intention to intercept the fleet we monitored the space lanes for your approach,” said Captain Sole as he arrived on our bridge flanked by a squad of Henderson's Marines. “Captain Argo seemed to know already that you'd be pursued.”

  “We're predictable like that,” I laughed. “We don't play well with others.” Sole smiled and looked about him.

  “Nice ship,” he said. “Shame about the attack. Is this...?”

  “No, it's not what we normally sail in. It was a kind of last-minute thing.” He nodded.

  “Lot of money here.”

  “Yes.”

  He dismissed the Marines and they left, taking up guarding positions outside the door. Then he sat at the weapon's console, now blank, and leaned back, straightening his uniform.

  “The Pearl is almost ship-shape again. I've been able to spare a small engineering team to assist your Chief with repairs and a medic to tend to your guest. It seems that you took a beating from the Death Squad ships.”

  “It certainly feels like it,” I said. “They know how to throw a punch.”

  “This is my first time encountering them directly. I've heard about them, of course, and my Marines are no strangers to their kind, but to actually be able to take one apart is quite a treat.”

  “Henderson made quite a mess of them,” I grinned.

  “They're some of the best men and women in the Corps. It took a lot of favor-pulling to get his team on my ship. I gave them orders to bag a couple intact so we could see how these clockwork-men tick.”

  “Because...?” He opened both of his arms in a 'what can I say?' kind of gesture.

  “They're a menace. No one has been able to find out where they're made or how they work. Earth hasn't been able to recreate anything like them and with so many civilian casualties put to their name they'd never lift the production ban anyway. To submit my findings would make some waves in the scientific community.”

  “Glad we could be of assistance.”

  He smirked and flattened out another crease in his jacket.

  “Artificial intelligence is a kind of hobby of mine. I still find it incredible that in all this time, with all these advances in space travel and automated robotics, we've been unable to unlock the secret of being self-aware. Whoever created these synthetic killers must be on the verge of discovering it. To operate solely on subroutines so far from their maker requires more than just ones and zeroes?”

 
“I wouldn't know,” I said with rising fear. “That's not my field of expertise.”

  Sole nodded and looked down at his feet. Then, looking me directly in the eye, he spoke.

  “I hear rumors. Whispers. A few words here and there.”

  I felt that cold terror creeping up my spine like a spider scaling its web. Had Henderson said something about Thor? Had one of them noticed something in Jimmy?

  “I see your team and a close involvement with Captain Argo. I have little pieces of what I feel is a much larger puzzle.” I slowly nodded, eternally grateful that he was no longer talking about robots and AI. “I think I understand what he might be trying to do. Am I sailing close to the mark, Carter.”

  “It depends,” I said. “If you were, what would your feelings be on that?”

  “Honestly? I'd want to be involved.”

  “That's not my call to make.”

  “I understand that. But to me, it seems that wherever you and your team go, things happen on a large scale. You might only see yourselves as bit-players in Captain Argo's plans, but already you've brought home a prize worthy of an Admiral and caught the attention of very dangerous enemies.”

  “I'd have preferred not to,” I smiled. “But shouldn't you be having this conversation with him and not me?”

  “I will, in due course. I've known the Captain a long time and I feel a strong sense of loyalty to him, especially after our recent engagement. But you aren't Navy, you aren't tainted by our biases. Answer me this one question.” I tilted my head. “Do you trust him?”

  I thought about that for a moment. We hadn't really been given a choice in trusting him from the moment we'd first met him. But if you could measure something like that in real terms then I guess, like most people, his actions told me more than his words did. He'd saved us from the D122, involved us with Wash' plans when he could have told us to go away and sent (or allowed) the Pearl to come to our rescue.

  “Yes,” I said. “I do.”

  “Then that is all I need to know,” he said and got to his feet, straightening his uniform tunic. “We will continue to tow you towards Indigo-Six where we will rendezvous with the rest of the fleet. We don't expect any more of those Death Squad ships to try again, especially once we re-join.”

  “Thank you, Captain.” He nodded.

  “Our ledgers are balanced, Carter. My debt to you is paid in full I think.” I laughed and showed him to the door. The Marines snapped to attention.

  “Oh, that reminds me – Corporal Henderson asked me to inquire about your armor.”

  “Yes?”

  “He says he's never seen anything like it before and he considers himself an expert on exo-shells. He would appreciate a conversation about it at your next convenience.”

  “They're prototypes. I'll have Mason invite him over when he's off duty to explain further,” I said.

  “Much obliged. Thank you again.”

  And with that the Captain left the bridge and the ship, returning to the Pearl. With his words weighing heavily on my mind I went down to engineering to make sure Jo had taken the break I'd ordered her to have. She hadn't. She was directing the team sent over from the Pearl and when I saw her she turned, looked at me with dark eyes thick with fatigue and shrugged.

  “I need to know-” she began but I simply took the data tablet from her hands, set it down on the bench and took her arm in mine, leading her to the door. “But Carter, I really have to-”

  I said nothing and she didn't resist. I led her to the stairs, up to the living quarters and to her room, opening the door as she stifled a yawn. As I went in I saw that her cases were still sealed and nothing had been put away. The workaholic hadn't even bothered to unpack but had gone straight to engineering once she'd boarded.

  “Well?” I asked, gesturing to the pile of cases.

  “I was busy,” she said with a flush of red on her cheeks. “I haven't had time.”

  “Jo – I know that you love your work and that right now you want your hands on your ship rather than some strangers. But I need you operating at 100% efficiency and you can't do that when you're dead on your feet.”

  “Tell me this,” she snapped, turning on me. “Would YOU be taking a nap right now if you needed to?”

  “No,” I replied. “But Mason would make me. He's a good friend like that.”

  I pushed her gently towards the bed, saw a t-shirt and some shorts discarded on the pillows and handed them to her.

  “Change,” I said. She shook her head.

  “I'm covered in sweat and oil. I need to shower first.”

  “I'll wait.”

  I turned my back and heard her slip out of her overalls. Then she padded over to the shower cubicle and turned on the water. I waited, feeling a little uncomfortable at being so close to her. To pass the time I stared at a painting on the wall, some kind of representation of a war I'd never heard of. Why had the team in charge of the décor chosen so much military-themed art for the ship? I gazed into the smears of topaz and ochre and silt and wondered what kind of soldier had fought there and why. No answers came.

  “I'm done,” she said and I turned. She stood there in a towel, her hair wet and dripping onto pale shoulders that looked young and smooth and the scent of coconut shampoo followed her to the bed. She sat on the corner and put her head in her hands.

  “I'm so tired, Carter,” she whispered through her fingers. “I'm dead on my feet.”

  “Get some rest then,” I said. “8 hours. No less. That's an order.”

  I handed her the bedclothes and turned away, letting her change. Then I threw back the cover and she got in, rolling on to her side away from me. As I tucked her in her eyes were already closing on a gentle frown and I brushed the damp hair from her cheeks. In another moment she was softly snoring. I watched her for a minute, looked at the cases and sighed. Then I began to unpack for her.

  We arrived at Indigo-Six the following day, ship time, and found the security of the entire fleet reassuring. The station was in high orbit above a planet hostile to human life but one that was rich in precious metals. This allowed the structure to expand on a massive scale, allowing for a dockyard to be built capable of servicing a great many ships both Commonwealth and Earth Government.

  The Pearl contacted the dockyard and released the Hikane into the hands of tow-ships that came speeding from the station like a swarm of worker-ants. With almost no noticeable shift in the ship's balance, we were pulled into a vacant dry-dock and attached to the mainframe along with all the other members of the fleet. Then, with practiced politeness, we were asked to disembark whilst repairs were carried out.

  “What do we do now?” asked Mason as we found ourselves standing on the passenger platform surrounded by people-traffic of all shapes and sizes. The scale of the station was awe-inspiring. Snaking walkways wide enough to take a tank vanished in all directions. Shops, service portals, traders of all stripes and workers looking for a ride off gave the place a hectic, 24/7 feel. Vid-screens blared irritating advertisements for Commonwealth services that appeared quirky and faintly propaganda-esque compared to what we were used to on the other side of the border. The air stunk of sweat and humankind, all squashed into neat lanes that funnelled you towards a dozen eateries or bars, forcing you to part with a lot of credits for not much return.

  “Argo wants us at conference room B on level six at 1500 hours,” I said. “That leaves us with time to kill I guess.”

  Thor and Jimmy had been left on the ship with orders to monitor repairs but stay reasonably out of sight. The last thing I wanted in this frontier station was to draw attention to strangely behaving AI bots or a wounded prisoner locked in his room.

  “I need a few things,” said Mason. “I might have a look around.”

  “I'll tag along,” said Baz. “It's my first time in the Commonwealth apart from work.”

  “Stay out of trouble then,” I warned him. “They don't take kindly to 'Earthys' poking noses into their business.”

&nbs
p; The two of them melted into the crowd heading clockwise along the walkway. That left Jo and I with our hands in our pockets watching people come and go.

  “Do you want to grab a coffee?” she asked with some hesitation.

  “Sure,” I replied though I found the word cold on my lips. I felt a kind of funk come over me, maybe an effect at once again having stopped moving towards Angel's rescue. Delays were starting to irritate me in much the same way that strangers working on Jo's engines must have felt to her.

  We set off anticlockwise, against the traffic in most places and it seemed like I was noticing for the first time how at home she was on a station like this. Whereas the formal meal with Captain Sole had given her obvious discomfort, this down-to-earth installation made her swagger with hands casually in her pockets. It sent me reeling back to my youth, to days playing with Alice in the streets of military bases or on dilapidated service stations. I guessed then that history still managed to divide people like that, the haves and the have-nots.

  “If I gave you the choice,” I said, mustering up some good humor. “Would you rather be here or in a Captain's mess?”

  She snorted derision and laughed. It made her face look soft and playful.

  “Give me a stinking mass of common people any day of the week,” she replied. “You can keep your rich elite.”

  “I didn't realize they were mine,” I joked.

  “Come on – don't tell me you and Alice didn't have it easy growing up?”

  “Quite the opposite,” I pointed out, avoiding a line of on-coming bots trailing after a mobile trader like ducklings. “One of the reasons Alice and I signed up just before the Martian war was to escape the poverty. Earth was in a deep depression until the conflict began and our parents were struggling to make ends meet.”

  “And after?”

  “We formed TRIDENT with what money we saved up. There was nothing to spend it on during the campaign and with Alice being high-up in the logistics Corps and myself in Armored Infantry, we managed to save up a lot of cash. Until recently surplus credits haven't exactly been rolling in.”