Frontline sf-4

by Randolph Lalonde

  “It was worth it,” Alice nodded.

  “Sure was, good job hotwiring the system, I've never seen it done,” Laura added.

  Alice brought up the communication screen up on the secondary holographic display so she could listen in on the exchange with the fighters.

  “Triton SSG Control to Scrubber and Hardcore. You're ordered to return to hanger using our Tractor Net.” Commanded Assistant Chief Paula, who had taken over for her subordinate.

  “Understood Triton. We'll be coming up underside and holding until the net draws us in. Looks like you've seen some action, anything we need to know about?” replied Hardcore.

  “No. Make it quick,” Paula stated flatly.

  “Are you sure? I could pick up some takeout on my way.”

  “I'm sure, smart asses,” Paula muttered as she cut the comm session.

  “What did our astrologers find?” Alice asked Agameg.

  “Just after the Eden ships arrived they spotted a wormhole exit point and this;” Agameg replied without missing a beat, bringing up a hologram of a small vessel. The sensor information underneath it indicated that it was emitting almost no energy, but there was definitely a cockpit and windows for living quarters on the forty three meter long vessel.

  “It's a Regent Galactic survey and observation ship,” Larry reported from the helm. “I had to ferry one between systems once. They're cramped, made to check on troubled areas and get out.”

  “I guess they just wanted to see how we fared against about a thousand fighter drones. I hope they enjoyed the show.” Alice thought for a moment and watched the main holographic display on the bridge, where everyone could see the Uriel fighter being drawn up into the receiving bay at the rear aft of the ship. “All right, get us underway to these coordinates at our best speed. We don't have time to cover the emitters with stealth material, so they'll see us coming. I need everyone on the briefing list I'm posting to report to the mission theatre in seven hours. Stand down from high alert. Agameg, the bridge is yours,” Alice said as she stood and strode out of the bridge's main entrance, across the command corridor and into another set of double doors.

  The main briefing theatre hadn't been in use for over thirty years, and as she walked into the large circular space she couldn't help but pause. You picked a lousy time to go on a milk run Jake, I hope you manage to sort yourself out.

  Arrival

  The Uriel fighter was much more comfortable than Jake had anticipated. Before he woke to the wormhole emergence alarm he dreamt he was in a soft, warm mound of mattresses and cushions, a dream he wouldn't share with some of the more hardened crew members back on the Triton.

  As planned, he was awake several minutes before emerging from the highly compressed wormhole, the fighter performed beautifully as a personal transport, despite the fact that he didn't have the long term cabin component installed. He was able to stretch a little, but he was still sitting in essentially the same position.

  Even though he was easily in control of all aspects of the ship while simply travelling, he knew he'd wish he had brought a copilot if he ran into trouble. Controlling shield, weapons, navigation, communications and the myriad other systems would be overwhelming, despite his practice sessions in the simulations.

  No one knew who Hitman was until he actually had it stencilled onto the Uriel fighter he took, but he was starting to make a name for himself in simulations, which he enjoyed far too much for the little time he could afford to spend in them. Taking the role of a fighter pilot was popular in the simulations the Triton played host to on a day to day basis. It had even become a social event, as the large holographic displays had been brought into the Pilot's Den, the bar located right in the center of the berths reserved for deck crew and pilots.

  He had no idea how closely people watched for him to enter the sims until Alice had told him about it later, but in one combat simulation set in a large asteroid field there were several pilots in the Pilot's Den with their visors on trying desperately to hunt him down and destroy him before they themselves were killed by the dreaded Hitman. The whole idea that there were spectators and wagers going on with regard to his opponent's survivability gave him a big smile whenever it crossed his mind.

  It wasn't hard to guess who Hitman was, really. He had been chasing down bounties for the better part of five years. Very few of the jobs he'd taken escalated to the point where he had to use lethal force, but those were the most well known ones in the end. The sims were a good contrast to the seriousness he had to place on his work. Even though all the simulations made available on the Triton somehow involved training or practice he had turned to them as a distraction after completing his Uriel fighter pilot qualification. If he was shot down one of his pilots, or wannabe pilots would have the bragging rights, but it never happened without him taking out several of his opponents first, if at all. He still wasn't the greatest shot, but his reflexes, quick thinking and ability to create opportunities and cover made him very difficult prey. When he signed on in a boarding crew or other squad based sim, his team was full in seconds, the same could be said when he signed in as a wing commander. Just as it was with Jonas Valent, he was becoming very popular in simulations and it helped him connect with his crew while it also gave him a much needed release. Memories of Minh came back often, he had even taken a few opportunities to quote some old Earth proverbs.

  The tactical readings overlaid the heads up display built into his visor and he immediately set weapons to charge, increased power to shields, and fired the engines at full thrust while directing the fighter downward.

  “Oh hell, there must be three battle groups in orbit!” He glanced at the communications systems and realized that there was only one clear broadcast. It was a Carthan all clear signal, everything else was nothing but static. Even the transponder signals were garbled.

  The silhouette analysis showed that there was one nine kilometre vessel that looked like a carrier, several other carriers just under two kilometres in length and dozens of various warships. “They look like Regent Galactic ships,” he said to himself after selecting the menu option to mute all static with a glance at an optically sensitive menu.

  He switched his tactical scanner search to start looking for solid obstacles and incoming vessels only. After one quick sweep no cover was found but there were dozens of fighters and a few ships that looked a lot like customs and law enforcement frigates on an intercept course. Their mass and energy readings told him that they were ready to fire and not lightly armoured. The nearest of them was over eleven thousand kilometres away, and they were gaining on him quickly.

  “Weapons free,” he said aloud as he selected counter punch missiles and flak rounds. The targeting system immediately began to lock onto targets and as he dumped as much power into the ion engines as they could tolerate he opened fire.

  The flak rounds firing off from his main cannons travelled as solid shells as they closed in on their targets then burst in all directions, sending a smattering of shrapnel into the dozens of ships moving to intercept him. One round didn't do much, but hundreds or thousands could tax their shields, interfere with exterior systems and even weaken hulls. He recognized the hammerhead shaped customs vessels amidst the fighters and gunships. They were a mainstay of the Regent Galactic defence fleet and offensive military. Just under two hundred metres long, they were heavily armed with a well protected control center near the rear of the vessel.

  If half of what was closing in on him decided to open fire he knew he'd be dust. Time to think. I need somewhere to hide, I need a bargaining chip, something! The counterpunch missiles finished crossing the distance between his fighter and the enemy ships but didn't go off. Their burst of conically focused light, energy and particulate matter remained undetonated as the fires of their engines winked out and they passed between the enemy ships.

  “Only one option here. Time to go! Maybe we can sneak in with the Triton.” Without a second thought he diverted energy from his engines, weapons an
d started charging up to create a short distance wormhole. Just as he was bringing up the navigational calculation console with his left hand a launch alert sounded.

  The tactical screen was littered with hundreds of small, highly energized missiles and he knew exactly what they were. “Uriel assist,” he addressed the onboard systems; “seal all openings, power down all systems and move current data into long term storage.”

  “Operations will take approximately twenty nine seconds.” The computer replied.

  He glanced at the tactical display one more time before it blinked out and saw that he had seven seconds before the electromagnetic pulse bombs would be in optimal range. The only thing he could do as the systems on his fighter powered down, its engine pods flamed out and sealed, and the power plants halted the fusion reaction within before starting to cool down was activate the extra armoured layer of his vacsuit and turn off the control unit on his arm.

  “I should have just stayed in bed,” he whispered to himself as he closed his eyes and just tried not to think about what over three hundred electromagnetic pulse bombs going off all at the same time would do to his framework skeletal structure.

  He may have saved his eyes by closing his lids, but he still saw a flash and heard a painfully loud, sharp crack between his ears before losing conciousness.

  Trading

  Lucius Wheeler didn't know how many times the door chimed before he opened his eyes. It was late. He had been accessing General Collins' memories and tricked his body into falling asleep so they could play back at an accelerated speed, so he could experience them just like a dream.

  He groggily made his way to the door and answered it. As the featureless door slid into the wall he couldn't help wondering if he was experiencing the same thing Gabriel did when he first made his connection to a large network. Lucius had caught himself forgetting all about eating, hygiene and closing himself off from everyone else. The temptation to just close his eyes and experience another piece of General Collins' life was so intense that he had done it a few times while he was intimate with his old first officer, Gloria. If that's how things were for him after assuming the digital record of one man's experiences, he couldn't imagine what it was like for Gabriel, who had access to entire historical databases, tactical information, intelligence gathering systems and everything else that you'd find in two massive military vessels.

  It was Gabriel, who grinned at him with the familiarity of an old friend as the door opened. He looked pristine. His hair had been cut short, his dark blue vacsuit and flight jacket were clean and the glow of good health was returning to the man who just days before looked so spent and scrawny that one wondered how long he could stay on his feet. “Good morning Lucius.”

  “You interrupted a flashback. I was dreaming I was having thirty five year old scotch with the High Chancellor of Evora. She was just telling me about her third son.”

  “No, you were dreaming you were Collins and you were with Evora. There's quite a difference. Besides, you can always continue where you left off.”

  Lucius stepped out of the doorway and the pair walked to the circular seating in the middle of the main room. “It takes some getting used to. Looks like the work they did on you is turning out well though.”

  “Oh, you think? A program takes care of all my physical needs for me using a dozen or so different implanted systems. It's like I've taken a whole new step in evolution. I'm never hungry, dirty and soon I'll be perfectly fit. Are you sure you don't want to sign up for it? They just implant a few grams of nanobots and they construct the implants overnight, very simple.”

  “That's all right, I'll let you be the great pioneer. Besides, there's something to be said for taking care of your own biological functions.”

  “So I've heard. You've been having a few late night visits from Gloria, I couldn't help but notice.” Gabriel said with a crooked grin.

  “Still keeping your eye on me?”

  It took a moment for him to reply, his gaze becoming unfocused as a result of him looking inward at something in the digital world. “Oh, security earmarked the visual logs. They do that whenever the status of a crew member changes, social or otherwise.”

  “Ah.”

  Again the man sitting just a meter distant on the opposite seat was mentally drawn much further away by something in the digital realm and Lucius was led to wonder what being connected to the massive ships would be like. The thought faded as Gabriel's attention turned back to him. “That's what makes what I've come to ask you harder than expected. We tried fabricating a bare framework using a high resolution materializer and failed. We were hoping to duplicate a blank template that was equal to you or Gloria so I could avoid this whole messy business.”

  Lucius leaned back in his seat. “I saw this coming after taking on Collins' memories.”

  “So you know that Jacob Valance's last task was to play physical host to Eve.”

  “Yes, and you'd have to disable him, carve open his skull and replace his brain with hers. His body would rebuild itself based on her mental self image.”

  “So you know Gloria would be killed in the process.”

  “Yeah, so why wake her up at all? I mean you could have left her in the pod until it was time. She'd be none the wiser.”

  “If you spent more time accessing the parts of Collins' experiences that mattered, you'd know the answer to that question.” Gabriel's eyes rolled back in his head as he accessed a large chunk of data. After two seconds he looked back at the other man, his features in deep shadow in the dim light. “I'll answer it for you regardless. I didn't know which of you would be more valuable to us. A framework built over a living human template or a less experienced template or someone who had time to age actively, unaware of what and who you were.”

  Lucius nodded and let Gabriel continue.

  “Of the two you are the more interesting, you are more well textured. That came as a surprise, considering how, I hope you'll pardon me for saying, empty you were at the beginning. Besides, I knew you'd have less difficulty interfacing with Collins' experiences since your personal experience has been unquestionably male so far.”

  “I get it, and no, you won't have any trouble from me if you want to use her. I remember just enough about the old Gloria to know that it's just a matter of time before the new and improved model becomes more trouble than she's worth. The last thing you need is another Jonas Valent on your hands. I'll still want something in trade though.”

  “Oh?”

  “Give me the Saviour and access to the Vindyne development archives. Oh, and when I say I want the Saviour I mean I want full ownership. Control codes, the override hardware, full command of the crew and accounts with at least two years worth of pay for them that I can transfer out of whatever Regent Galactic bank you drop them into.”

  Gabriel's eyes went wide and his expression froze in one of surprise. For a moment Lucius wondered if the man was honestly that taken aback, but realized after a few seconds that he was just accessing more data, performing some kind of search. After a moment his eyes focused on Lucius again and the expression changed to a more pleased, admiring one. “How did you know? Did Collins' find out somehow?”

  Lucius had no idea what the other man was talking about but just held the exact same expression on his face, relaxed and replied calmly. “Doesn't much matter now, does it?”

  “You're right, it doesn't. I can give you command of the Saviour. It's actually joined up with us already as you've probably seen out your view port. She'll have a trained Regent Galactic crew like all the ships they've provided. I'm just surprised that you've discovered where her true value lies already. I won't be able to let you keep what's in her vault.”

  “I had guessed that. I wouldn't want what's inside anyhow.”

  “And what of the new marines aboard? I suppose you'd like to keep them.”

  Wheeler hurriedly tried to search Collins' memories for anything referring to the marines and before long he had it. They were one
of the final goals for the framework project; to have the ability to store bare, unused framework skeletons in bulk aboard a ship that could be turned on a few at a time or all at once, imprinted with a basic personality, skills and directives then sent out into the field. The difficulties that Vindyne faced after they had captured the technology from the original Wheeler and started work with Yorgen Stills involved reducing a marine unit back into a framework skeleton for long term storage and the memory imprints. Collins had no memory of them correcting that problem. When Lucius Wheeler looked back at Gabriel, not aware until then that he had looked away, it was to see the other man laughing and clapping his hands together.

  “You are full of surprises Lucius! I am going to miss you! You had no idea we were ready to deploy the framework marines, did you?”

  Wheeler could only smile and shake his head. “No idea.”

  “I could learn so much about the benefits of staying human from you. If anything you're proof that there is still a point to flesh and blood. Well, since you've gotten enough out of me to be dangerous, I'll tell you the rest. We have twenty eight tested memory imprints that work ninety seven percent of the time and the Saviour is made to accommodate framework marines, pilots, gunners, mechanics and the other template types. We've also included small manufacturing facilities so you can build more if you happen to start running low. The Saviour carries fifteen thousand frameworks in storage and can support up to two thousand in close quarters for up to three months. The frameworks we can generate with our current manufacturing technology aren't the same quality as you, but they more than serve their purpose. My God, it's laborious telling you this verbally.” Gabriel sighed before continuing. “The ship can create starfighters, dropships and is quite a fighting machine itself. The Saviour is made to mount surprise attacks against outposts and colonies. I'd expect a man like you could quickly achieve the assignment we have for you and move on to become a rich man before long. I'll trade her to you for your full cooperation and Gloria.”