“That is one nice ship,” Ragula mentioned, adding a whistle of approval.
Their equipment was being loaded up by dock workers. There were several computer frames, adding extra computing power to the onboard systems. They were going to be completely off network, so they would need all the data they could carry. The pilot had just arrived at the Harmoa and left his fighter behind. He hadn’t looked over all of the data, but was at least up to date as to the ship they would take. They always looked better in person.
He was led past the ship and down under the hangar. He was given one of the couple hundred side quarters adjacent to the hangar. It wasn’t much, but he was used to the small room. It didn’t matter, really, he wasn’t going to spend the night. Just a quick wash and change of clothes. The mission departed that night.
A full nine hours of sleep had come in wonderfully after the quick mission debrief the day before. Much of the mission was still under wraps, and he would only get the full sitrep on the Harmoa, prior to launch, but if the Queen was involved, it was certainly a critical operation. As he washed off with hot water, he soaked in the heat and relaxed. Who knew when the last time would be before he’d get another shower. After getting dressed, he tapped on his tablet to read up a bit more on the ship they would be taking.
It was a DGX interceptor. Despite its name, it played the role of small bomber more than anything. It could be flown by three men, but had room for five. It was one of the many standard Dominion ships, if not a bit outdated. Ragula was more than familiar with them, saw them all the time, even in civilian roles. When he first came across the ship in the mission brief, he could automatically think of at least seven other ships that could fly a blockade better than a DGX.
Then he saw the one out in the hangar. That craft was anything but standard. Different armor, enhanced sensor package and an unusual weapon loadout. DGXs were usually equipped with basic torpedo bays, and maybe some kind of slug cannon. The one in the hangar didn’t have any cannon or bays, which made him curious as to the wing mounted beams. Then again, if this was the Queen’s choice, she probably had her hand in tweaking it.
After a hot meal and a cold beer, Ragula made his way towards one of the hangar briefing rooms. The Harmoa wasn’t a carrier in any shape or form, but its utter size allowed it to carry a small contingent of escort fighters, and these mission briefing rooms were larger than anything on the pseudo-carriers he flew off. He followed the map on his tablet until he reached the designated room, ducked under the hatch and went in.
There were already people there. Sitting with his legs up on the chair in front of him was a tall man. He had long brown hair and his arms were covered in tattoos. He had never seen him before, but he knew who he was: a Dominion noble, albeit, a short one. Ragula couldn’t say why he knew that, but he’d been around enough of them to know. Even the ‘rejects’, the failed experiments, were different.
On the far side of the room, an Asian man stood leaning over the console. When he looked up, Ragula was surprised to recognize him instantly. It was famed GNN reporter Hosha Yokido. Right next to him was a giant man, clearly one of the First soldiers. On the top podium was another noble. Ragula felt he had seen him before, but couldn’t figure out where. He was clearly a family head, or close. Ragula suddenly felt incredibly small. He was surrounded by nobles, super soldiers, and famous people.
“Good, everyone is here,” a voice pierced the awkward silence.
Ragula spun around and came face to face with the Queen. In all actuality, he was looking up at her. She smiled calmly and put her hand on his shoulder.
“Come, let me introduce you,” she led him into the room.
“This is our pilot, Ragula Messmaria,” she said. “This is First Tennant, Ogho of the First Union army, thirtieth pod. He will provide security. Standing next to him is Hosha Yokido, reporter for the Commonwealth news agency GNN.”
The long haired man stood up.
“This is Fangix. Formerly of the DIA. His ship will provide us the transport to the surface of Mequa.”
“The DGX is yours?” Ragula asked.
“That it is.”
“Impressed. I must admit, if Mr. Fangix has the ship, why am I needed here?” Ragula asked.
“We are in need of Fangix’ ship for its design. While he has many useful skills, should we require a pilot of skill, he won’t be able to provide that. If we are incredibly lucky, Mr. Messmaria, we won’t need your skills.”
The pilot glanced up at the noble on the podium. The Queen followed his look.
“This is Prime Advisor Clelin,” she said, as the noble tipped his head. “He will be providing support, from here. Gentlemen, you are here at my request. I had hoped to discuss the mission here, but unfortunately, I don’t believe even this location is completely secure. We will brief while in flight to Mequa. Is the ship ready?”
Fangix nodded.
“Then let us go.”
They were led to the ship quietly for the Queen didn’t wish to make a scene of her departure. It was better if most didn’t realize she wasn’t on the ship. They boarded the DGX and Ragula and Fangix took the pilot’s cabin while the rest sat in the back. Fangix flew his ship out of the Harmoa hangar and into space. The sun was creeping up along the horizon of Coran, a sea of green forest shining like an emerald. Somewhere in the southern hemisphere, a giant fire raged, spewing smoke and ash into the atmosphere. Underneath, the glow of the fire was visible.
Without any communication with the Harmoa or any other ships, the small DGX ship flew alongside the giant flagship of the Union, skimming closely along the hull. The Queen came into the cabin, now cramped, and watched.
“Whenever you are ready,” Fangix said, looking back at her.
“Very well. You know what to do.”
As they continued to fly along the spine of the Harmoa, the giant ship began to slowly turn, pointing its beam towards the planet surface. The DGX adjusted its flight, still hugging the side of the ship. Fangix reached out to charge the sling, and while its counter grew, he began to type in commands on a separate console. Ragula watched as the two screens linked on a similar countdown. The small ship flew right to the edge of the rear of the Harmoa when its sling drive engaged. In an instant, Coran and the fleet were left behind.
“That’s a stealth jump,” Ragula pointed out. He had used similar tactics in the past. The Harmoa had turned to point to Mequa, and the DGX had used it to sling away.
“And we have the best stealth wave generator on board. There is not a single ship, man or machine, that will see us till we get to Mequa,” the former agent said.
“I’m drooling just a bit. I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me what else this ship has? You know, in case I have to fly it?” Ragula asked.
“At another moment Captain Messmaria. I think it is time everyone understands the full scope of the mission. Are we set on the flight path Fangix?” Deespa asked.
“We are my Queen,” he answered.
The Queen turned and left the pilot’s cabin. Ragula followed back into the now incredibly cramped mess room. Fangix joined them shortly, and the five of them found wherever they could to sit. Each of the men offered a spot for the Queen to sit comfortably, but she preferred to stand. Once everyone was settled in as best as they could, the Queen pulled out her sync and cable from her arm, and attached it to the one tiny console in the middle of the room. Thankfully, it was a hologram projector, and the image took up nearly the entire room.
“This is our destination. Iglah. Large city, around one hundred and fifty thousand on the shores of Lake Aglah. Some farming, but mostly tourism. The lake is dotted with resorts and people are attracted to the clear warm waters. It is also one of the oldest cities in the system. It was once the capital of Mequa.”
The image zoomed in closer to the city and the Queen began moving the image with her hands, closing in on a series of buildings near the center of the city.
“The center of the city is a historical dist
rict, also a tourist destination. We traced the signal to this building right here,” she zoomed in, “part of the Hand of Pleasure, the tourist department of the city. It used to be the old Provincal’s residence.”
“So this signal, this is the AI we are fighting?”
The Queen looked over at Hosha.
“No. It is not. The being we are fighting is not an AI.”
She looked around to gauge their reactions.
“At least not in any sense that we understand,” she added.
“But we are being attacked by machines my Queen,” Ogho pointed out. “I apologize for interrupting.”
“We are, but they are merrily under the control of this being, and it is not any AI that mankind ever created. It is something else,” Deespa said.
“What?” Ragula asked the question on everyone’s mind.
“We don’t know,” she said.
“So what’s on Mequa?” Fangix chimed in.
“A real AI.”
Silence took over the room, but for the hum of the projector. Finally, Ragula spoke up.
“You are talking, an AI, from the war?”
“Not exactly. But when you hear that word, you think of the war?” Deespa asked.
“Don’t we all? I’m no expert, but its basic history is it not?” Ragula asked.
“If only it were that simple,” Hosha interjected.
“What you will hear now may surprise you. It may make you reconsider everything you believe in. But you must hear it,” Deespa said, then nodded at Hosha.
The reporter stepped forward and put a data pod onto the console. The projector read the data and began displaying it.
“My grandfather was officially, an antiqueer. A hunter of ancient relics and objects. A modern day archeologist. On a salvage bid for a large battle site on Entura Nine, he found something completely unrelated to the battle. A drone. A deep space exploration drone sent many years before the machine war, the first one. It was an incredible find for a man such as my grandfather, but its place in the rubble of the battle piqued his curiosity.
He had the drone analyzed before being submitted to the San Francisco graveyard and woke up the AI within it. It was part of a scientific program called Deep Space Sentinel. It was a rather revolutionary program that came at the wrong time. It had, at its core, the most advanced AI ever created by mankind. A fully autonomous, fully conscious and fully self-adapting siliconium based intelligence. Its goal was to discover new systems on a multiple year mission. It needed the flexibility to adapt to any situation, and eventually find its way home.
An AI, not made for war.
This being became aware of the war after being awoken. The Solar government became aware of its existence when my grandfather attempted to request asylum for it. It was summarily denied. Before he was exiled from known space for his ‘illegal’ actions, my grandfather made a detailed code scan of the AI, to compare it old war relics, and found some startling differences. Not only was the code on the sentinels much further advance, but there were some key omissions. All of the AI that had attacked during the war carried a signature code structure, one modified from the original program sources. No matter who created the different AI, companies, government or military, all of them had the same signature override. My grandfather believed that these AI had been overridden by a master AI, and it was the cause of the war.
Sadly, he never got the chance to prove his theory. The AI drone vanished, likely destroyed the Commonwealth government, and my grandfather was exiled beyond the Black Rim.”
Hosha let that all sink in.
“Huh,” Ragula blurted.
“So the AI were controlled by another AI. Doesn’t seem to change much,” Fangix said.
“Except not all AI were overridden. We need to know why,” Hosha said.
“And the AI on Mequa?” Fangix asked.
“Another Sentinel,” Deespa said quietly.
“We found it almost by accident. It was catalogued as space debris, with unusual markings. Upon further digging, it appears that the Dominion ship that found it tried to hide its discovery. We're not sure why. About the only thing that remains is a picture among some other ‘junk’ they found. When we checked out the images, we were surprised to see the exact same drone that my grandfather had discovered. One more of the Sentinel drones.”
“So if the Sentinel your father discovered was immune to this other AI, then perhaps this one could be as well,” Fangix figured it out.
Deespa nodded.
“We are going to save an AI,” Ogho said slowly.
“I understand it is an idea that is hard to grasp. Our minds, no, our very hearts, were raised to fear the artificial intelligence. It is why I tasked only you to follow me. Ogho and Fangix are loyal to me, completely. They will not question me or their mission.”
Both of the men nodded in agreement.
“Our Martian reporter has his own vested interest in the AI, as you now know. Which leaves you, Captain Messmaria,” Deespa said, looking at the pilot. “Did I choose correctly?”
He shook his head and chuckled.
“I’m not sure how you knew, but you do don’t you?” he asked the Queen.
She nodded. Everyone else looked confused.
“Knew what?” Hosha asked.
“I’m in,” Ragula said. “No issues with me. Let’s go save a machine.”
3127 – Iglah, Mequa
Her transformation was astounding. Fangix had worked his spy magic on the Queen, and other than the fact that she was clearly a noble, her height gave that away, she looked nothing like the Queen whose face was now firmly imprinted in the minds of everyone in the new Union, and certainly on Mequa. While anonymity was fine, it was crucial that the machines did not know that she was on the planet. It would also help if they could move about without drawing huge crowds, which would certainly happen if anyone recognized her.
Her hair was black, and her eyes brown. The make up on her face made her appear far more aged than she actually was. They all wore more traditional clothing, at least over the top of their gear and suits. Deespa wore a simple dress, but that still gave an aura of nobility. She would have to play the part of a family member if the need arose.
Ogho fit in nicely as her bodyguard. Fangix tied his hair back and he suddenly appeared every bit the noble that his blood was. Hosha, of course, was used to looking ‘normal’. What wasn’t normal was the city.
Landing at the spaceport was impossible. They had flown into the planet unseen, as far as they could tell. The blockade around the planet was chaotic, random, but effective due to its size. Several old Dominion ships were in orbit, along with their full contingent of drones, and several hundred other assorted ships, mostly merchant and haulers. From what little they could tell, if there were any survivors on board the ships, they were completely out of touch.
Flying into the city had revealed the situation on the surface. As the reports had said, while anything with a chip in it had indeed come to life, the humans on the surface just didn’t have to deal with military weapons and drones as did those on Coran and Secundaria. The worst they had to deal with were vehicles, and these could be dealt with, to a degree.
All air traffic on the planet had come to a standstill, and as the DGX flew down towards the city, they did a flyby of the outskirts. Someone, likely police forces in the city, had managed to barricade all the major highways leading into the city, and the number of crashed vehicles on these blockades showed them that it was somewhat effective. Along the coast and those gorgeous black sand beaches, several large ships were grounded on the land, whether done by man or by machine was unknown.
Still, there was activity in the city. Only a few vehicles were seen, these mostly likely older models without network access or any kind of computer control. But the city was alive.
They landed the ship among a private marina, and Fangix used one of his many aliases to dock. He was flying a rather common ship, after all, and they would not draw any a
ttention to themselves. The dock master was extremely curious as to how they had managed to avoid the hacking attempts by AI, but Fangix brushed it off with a bunch of big words and technical garble that worked to confuse him. The group’s story was that they were from one of the southern provinces, and had flown it to retrieve family members who were stuck in Iglah.
While Ragula stayed with the ship, in order to provide a quick escape should the need arise, the other four left and went out into the city. Fangix was able to locate a DIA safe house, one that seemingly hadn’t been used in many years. From there they could move about with a bit more safety and anonymity. Regardless, they wanted to be out of the system as soon as possible.
On the flight over to Mequa, the Queen had revealed to the group of the high level of infiltration rates the AI was achieving even against their closed networks. Any and all data was virtually unsafe, and it was likely just a matter of time before their mission here was discovered. The question the pilot had posed was how the being on Coran hadn’t detected the AI on Mequa if it was transmitting a signal.
“Are we even sure that it hasn’t been detected?” he asked.
It hadn’t, and only the Queen knew why.
After dropping off at the safe house, and checking their gear, they ate a quick meal and departed towards the Hand of Pleasure building. As noted from the sky, the city wasn’t dead, far from it. People were out and about, walking on the streets, and there were all sorts. The tourists that had found themselves trapped in the city now worked side by side with the service workers and the residents of the city. They were going block by block creating more barricades. The wrecked bodies of cleandroids and sex bots littered the streets, signs that the people of Iglah had survived their initial battle with the AI.
In one street corner they spotted a pile of destroyed massage machines. Their large fleshy limbs burnt and melted while their tracked wheels were destroyed. Ogho, who had fought many different foe in his lifetime, was left wondering just how he would react to a machine that was at one moment rubbing his back, and the next trying to bludgeon him to death. It was that kind of uncertainty that left everyone afraid. The degrees in which technology was so imbued with everyday life was apparent. Ragula’s own phone had tried to melt a hole in his pocket. Hosha had read reports on people with holographic tattoos, dermal devices controlled by computers, suffering massive burns. While it was obvious that a remotely controlled battle drone was a clear threat, anything that had an electrical charge could wound, maim or kill.
Ghost of an Empire (Sentinel Series Book 3) Page 16