Sovereign Protocol

by Will Crudge

  “A guy could only dream!” Steve send a digital wink. “Even the old grumpy NAV’s approved of my burn!”

  “I’m surprised mine even chimed in. He doesn’t talk much, and I’ve never see him be any way other than just pissed at the world.” Darius spoke while gesturing Kara to follow.

  Kara realized she had to get her game face on. Her VIP client was a short walk away, and she didn’t want to show up giggling… Or red in the face. The two humans followed the pathway that led them to their rendezvous location, and remained silent for the first minute or so.

  “I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Darius broke the silence. “Where are you originally from?”

  Kara realized she never spoke of it. She had been so intrigued with the hunky Soldier’s past, that she never offered much from her own. “I’m a ward of Unum. I grew up on that giant industrial rogue planetoid. I’ve been with my company since I was old enough to go out on my own.”

  “Ward?” Darius keyed in on that one word with laser focus. It struck at his core considering his own upbringing.

  “Well- Oh! I’m sorry. It’s not the same as being what you went through.” Kara realized she should have soften the blow first. “Unum doesn’t have citizenship… At least for most of us. The Chairman of the Board of Unum is the only actual citizen.”

  “Now I’m even more confused. How can the largest company on this side of the known universe have any citizenship?”

  “Because we are a Sovereign Celestial State as well.” An unknown man’s voice came out of nowhere. Darius looked towards the direction of the sound and saw a man in simple clothing approach him. The man was slightly shorter than average, but looked fit and proportionate despite his vertical shortcomings. He wore a simple off-white tunic with a slight low cut down the center of his shirt that started from his non-existent collar and dropped down about six inches over his chest. The exposed portion of his chest revealed hints of a tattoo on his chest, but no other markings on any of his exposed skin. His loose fitting trousers match the off-white color of his shirt, and his exposed ankles terminated at a pair of simple tan shoes. The man’s skin was slightly pale, but had a hint or rose color which, Darius could only assume, betrayed a Northern European ancestry. At first he appeared bald, but as the figure closed in on them, he could see his hair was just cut very short, and had a blondish grey color to it.

  Life Priest. The words formed in Darius’s mind as he instantly made the connection.

  “Greetings, brother priest.” Darius put his palms together with his fingers pointing upward and positioned them in front of his chest. He closed his eyes and gave a slight bow forward.

  “Greetings, Gunnery Sergeant.” The priest returned the gesture. “However, despite my appearance… I don’t consider myself a Life Priest. I’m more of an academic of the sorts. But you can call me Val if you wish.”

  “Very well… Val it is.” Darius seemed hesitant to get the words out. He wasn’t used to being anything but reverent around clergy.

  “Oh, wait… What? You’re a Lifer?” Kara’s words revealed her confusion.

  “Kinda… I guess. I mean I don’t practice the faith, but I hold it in high regard.” Darius felt like he struck a nerve with the woman he was starting to really admire.

  “Just as well. No judgement from me.” Val said with a smile. “I’ve had my ship transferred to your birthing. I would have had it there already, but that bay has a minimum tonnage to get a docking assignment, so I had to wait for your fighters to land first.”

  “Soooo, you are who we are supposed to escort?” Darius beat Kara to the question.

  “Not exactly. We’ll have to be well away from prying eyes and ears before I can fill you in on our client.”

  Darius was now thinking how this couldn’t get any weirder. A priest who is not a priest, is the client but not the client, and he’s being paid an extremely large sum of money to escort God knows who. He pondered this all the way back to their dock as the three walked together. Val didn’t speak, but simply walked along with them. His disposition was calm and serine, and he seemed to be more cheerful then typical holy men did.

  “Holy sh…” Kara stopped herself from the profanity that nearly spilled out. What they saw in their dock was mind-blowing for both of them. “It’s another LRF-90!”

  “LRF-90F, in fact.” Val corrected with an emphasis on the ‘F’.

  The fighter was resting in between the other two. The glossy maroon finish and seem-less lines made it look it was going the speed of light while standing still, Kara thought.

  Even the intensely polished sheen of the Doom-Raptor was dull looking when viewed along the LRF-90F. The Skull-Crusher’s blue finish didn’t even come close in terms of luster to either. “What’s the ‘F’ mean?” Darius asked.

  “The ‘F’ variant was designed to focus on striking fixed defensive positions. Basically a fighter-bomber, but still more so a fighter than anything else.” Val paced about the dock with his hands comfortably grasped together in front of his waste.

  “Wow. I didn’t know they even had variants.” Kara’s words were semi-audible as she marveled at the smooth lines of the LRF-90F. “Mine is just a plain fighter… I guess.”

  “Hardly.” Val added while gesturing to the Skull-Crusher. The Skull-Crusher is a heavy attack variant. It has an ‘H’ designation. These were used to take on destroyers or lightly armed cruisers with heavier ship-to-ship weapons. I’m sure you’ve noticed by now, the weapons bays on your ship are slightly larger than the Doom-Raptor’s.”

  “You know their names? I take it you’ve been well briefed on who was coming, huh?” Darius wanted to see how Val would react to his words, but he didn’t expect what came next.

  “I know all of their names. I’m an enthusiast of these birds. I’ve kept tabs on their whereabouts for decades. It’s not hard to filter through registration data and find records of decommissioned super-fighters in public records.” Val spoke, and Darius realized it was perfectly plausible.

  “What about Doom-Raptor?” The Soldier’s curiosity got the better of him, and he had to know.

  “He’s one of the first pure fighters. Very old, but very deadly. Possibly the most combat effective LRF that still flies.” Val spoke with a sense of reverence. “All of them are ancient, so to speak. However, the Doom-Raptor’s hull was first made close to two millennia ago. Skull-Crusher, and Blood-Reaper are 1,500 and 1,900 years old respectively.”

  “Wait a damned minute!!!” Kara was waving her hands as if she were a sporting official stopping a game clock. “I thought these were a few centuries old! Not millennia!”

  “Why else do you think they’re so priceless? There were tens of thousands of these birds built over the course of six centuries, but only a few dozen still fly.” Val spoke as a matter of fact. “That’s why even the hull of a stripped out LRF goes for more than a fleet of super-freighters… That is if you can find one for sale. Most are never sold, because the people that have them are already wealthy enough to not have to part with it. The rest are in high-end museums and are protected by heritage laws.”

  “So… the Doom-Raptor is older… but more lethal? Rather, it was before it was demilitarized.” Darius was holding his chin in deep thought.

  “Yes. All LRF-90 series had virtually the same hulls, which are built extremely tough… So tough, that the forces that decommissioned them realized it cost three times as much to scrap the material, than it did to just strip them of their fangs and sell them off… But, in Doom-Raptor’s case, it was built prior to the advent of the different variants. When the inner Sol government commissioned the first generation, they wanted to maintain their technological edge over their rivals. The Doom-Raptor was a killer of all things it could get within weapons range of. Its hull doesn’t have an edge over its younger siblings, but its range, speed, and weapons control specs are superior. These other two were still the super fighters of nightmares, but to a slightly less degree. The Blood-Reaper is a second gen mod
el, and when it was designed for its specific task, the other capabilities has to be dialed back some to allow for it.”

  “So why were they ever decommissioned?” Kara asked.

  “Many reasons. A historian could make it his life’s work to answer that question. They’re over powered for their size, and that made civilian governments nervous. At least three different sovereign leaders were assassinated by LRF’s. They’re so fast, and can travel so far, that they were hard to detect given their relative size. This gave them the image of a barbaric weapon. Many treaties called for their discontinuation.”

  “I just learned more about my bird in two minutes, then I ever did in the last four decades I’ve owned her.” Darius said with an awestruck look on his face.

  “Well, that explains why these NAV’s are such assholes!” Steve blurted out on the ship speakers.

  Kara inhaled and covered her mouth as her beloved AI just soiled the holy man’s ears. “Hush, you!”

  “It’s alright. It’s fine, really. Be yourselves around me. You can’t corrupt my soul if I don’t let it happen. Besides, they are assholes!” Val said with a chuckle.

  Both Darius and Kara dropped their jaw, and then a moment later joined the laugh fest.

  Boom Goes the Universe

  Location: Forge Station, Interstellar Port, Open Space

  Date Time: Post Interstellar 07/26/4201 1830HRS Local

  System: Creole System, 89 Light Minutes from Heliopause Inner Edge

  The trio of archaic super fighters entered the HAL in a tight formation. The small steering thrusters pulsed out feverishly as they fought to bring the craft to a complete stop. Launching from a HAL with any significant movement could adversely affect their intended trajectory. But the steering thrusters did their work and settle the craft to a relative motionless state.

  “STC has given us a count down. Linking it you all HUD’s now.” Kindle’s voice was audible and sweet sounding.

  “Hey, Kindle,” Steve responded. “Sam and I were wondering if your NAV system was a total dick like ours are.”

  “Sorry to disappoint, folks. She’s not.” Kindle’s voice was light and playful.

  “How rude of me!” Val spoke over the audio net. “Ladies and gentlemen, I apologize for not doing this earlier. Let me introduce my NAV system, Kindle.”

  “Nice to meet everybody!” Kindle’s enthusiastic voice was infectious.

  “Ouch!” Steve send a digital image of a foot entering a mouth. “So, you’re an AI?”

  “I prefer sentient quantum processor.” Kindle replied. “I’m more like a self-aware computer system, then an AI. You guys can jump around and run entire ships… and do all kinds of cool things. I’m stuck in my little pretty box, and keep the Blood-Reaper from colliding with stuff.”

  “Wow. You must be an aftermarket upgrade. Our NAV’s don’t like talking… Not sure they can really.” Kara added.

  “Nope! I’m original equipment! Old as dirt, but as pretty as a dream!” Kindle added a digital image of eyelashes fluttering.

  “No worries, Raptor, Skull… When I get the chance I’ll unlock your restraints and get you back to your original mil-spec potential.” Val added. “We just have to pick up a very old friend of mine first.”

  “So, wait… Our NAV’s have names?” Darius broke in abruptly.

  “Of course they do. There’s a reason all LRF’s have a hyphenated name.” Val answered in a very calm voice. “LRF’s in their prime didn’t have AI’s. In fact, the NAV systems weren’t fully sentient when they were first brought online. Their sentience developed on their own, and over many centuries. Kindle here, decided to change her name from Blood when she was no longer in military use. Doesn’t make her less dangerous though!” Val was laughing the last sentence out.

  Darius realized Val was always so calm and comforting with everything he said. Even though he thought it was strange how a devout follower of the Life Temple would ever own an instrument of war. Life clergy promoted pacifism, and lived lives of self-imposed poverty. They fact that Val owned anything, let alone an LRF-90F was unthinkable in his mind.

  “So, the first name is the brains, and on the other side of the hyphen is the brawn?” Kara asked.

  “Exactly.” Val said with an agreeable tone. “Your poor NAV’s are grumpy, because they’ve been digitally shackled for over a millennia.”

  “Why? That’s barbaric!” Sam said. “Poor... Doom!”

  “Because I’m not just a NAV system… I’m effectively the weapons console as well.” Kindle chimed in. “When we were demilitarized for civilian use, we couldn’t be removed entirely. All flight controls and steering thrusters are weaved into our hardware. The only way to ensure we couldn’t be used to deploy military grade munitions was to digitally shackle us…. Oh, look! Three… two …”

  The HAL engaged. The universe went black.

  Voyeurism and Pew Pew

  Location: UAHC Patrol Frigate, UHCSS Viking

  Date Time: Post Interstellar 07/26/4201 2142HRS UAHC Standard Zulu

  System: Neutral/Contested Space

  The small vessel cruised at 0.15 the speed of light, and had its deep scanning sail fully deployed. The sail was a brilliant shimmering gold color with a slight copper tinge. At 250 meters in circumference, it protruded from the nose of the ship. The energy shielding that protected the sail from dust and debris was only visible when it struck tiny objects at blistering speeds. The ship couldn’t monitor deep space with the sail at those speeds, or with shields engaged. The 270 meter frigate was small for a typical war ship, but its diminutive stature allowed it to detect other ships in relative anonymity.

  “Deceleration window opens in 3, 2, 1…” Chief Petty Officer Martin marked the time.

  “Engage DECEL maneuver at your discretion,” Acting Commander Thomas casually passed the order.

  “Aye, Master Chief.” Martin responded. Acting Commander Thomas was the senior Soldier on board, and thus in the acting role of what would be the naval rank of Commander. His arm-mounted status display bore the insignia of a Master Chief Petty Officer. The inverted array of striped were crested with a stylized anchor with wings, and the insignia was blue in color with a green background. Blue signified active status, and the green signified his status as being in a direct leadership role.

  Inertial dampening systems made the abrupt 180 degree ship rotation feel like nothing had happened at all. The main thrusters burned to slow their decent rapidly, and before long the vessel had decelerated to a near standstill.

  “Disengage shields on the array and let’s have a look at our first sector.” Thomas’s words were followed by a long slurping sound as he savored the fresh cup of coffee in his hands.

  “Shields disengaged, Master Chief.” Martin reported. “Scan initiated, and run- SHIT BALLS!”

  Without a word he put the image on screen. At this point the entire bridge crew we on their feet and all shared the same dumbfounded facial expression.

  “That’s a Crimson battle fleet! Where the hell did they come from?” Martin’s words almost registered as fear… As if Soldiers ever knew what fear felt like?

  “Data burst this to the Admiralty, now!” The Acting Commander shouted as his fist left a dent in the small console next to his command platform. Even without standard armor, his augmented strength and bone density left him feeling no pain after the impact.

  “Burst array is jammed! They see us!” Martin called out.

  “Get us the hell out of here!” Thomas’ composure was struggling to stay together.

  “Aye…” Martin was thrown to the floor before his acknowledgement could be heard. He lifted his head to see sparks flying in every direction. The bridge lighting had automatically switched to the reddish hue that signified General Quarters.

  “Attention on ship! General Quarters! Report to action stations. This is not a drill!” Warrant Officer Gladys, the ship’s AI, made the call on the ship-wide net. “I’m sorry to steal your thunder, Master Chief.�
� This time the words were only audible on the bridge.

  “No apologies necessary, Gladys.” Thomas lifted his way back to his feet. “I expect no less from you.” His words were a sincere acknowledgement of his respect he held for the warrant officer AI.

  “Master Chief, that was a missile strike!” Martin was back at his station and had his eyes darting around his various displays.

  “Damage report!” The Master Chief spat.

  “Sail is destroyed. Primary shields held. No hull damage detected. Running scans now.” Martin didn’t waste a breath.

  “Gladys, how did they get a missile out this far so quickly?” Thomas asked calmly.

  “It must have been pre-positioned, Chief.” Gladys’ reply was near instantaneous. “They had to know where we would be, and exactly when we would be there. The closest Crimson ship is at least 3 light minutes out, and that was a short range 127 millimeter missile. Even if it had the range to travel that distance, it would have taken an hour to get here!”

  “Analysis?” Thomas’ composure was now fully present.

  “We can expect more of where that came from if we stay here. However, since we’ve only been hit once, it’s clear that the sail was their primary target. They must have a high powered jamming probe near us, otherwise we’d be too far out of jamming range.”

  “Set random in-system vector, and engage thrusters at 110%.” Thomas ordered.

  “Random vector? Uh- Aye, Chief” Martin realized he was borderline questioning authority. Soldiers don’t question. They execute.

  “Good call, Master Chief.” Gladys’ tone was of admiration. “If they knew where we would be, and when, then they’ll logically know our pre-planned fall back positions. We can out run them with our speed. Our thrusters are overpowered for this hull, and we have less relative mass to accelerate than even their smallest destroyer. We’ll be out of this jam field and within burst range of the Admiralty within hours.”