Subversion_Age Of Expansion_A Kurtherian Gambit Series

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Subversion_Age Of Expansion_A Kurtherian Gambit Series Page 4

by Ell Leigh Clarke


  “Of course, I would be honored to be of assistance,” he told her when she drew to a nervous close.

  “Great,” she breathed. “We have a meeting set for tomorrow. We’re just trying to confirm the timing since we need Paige there too, and she’s the limiting factor at the moment.”

  “Well, as you know, I purchased a holo device for my time on Estaria, so I am contactable any time, day or night.”

  She grinned. “Well, we’ll try and make sure you have the nights free, but there are no guarantees with Molly projects.”

  He chuckled. “Yes, I got that impression. Now, how about you tell me everything that I’ve missed since I last had the pleasure of your company.”

  They talked for several hours, until the restaurant was finally deserted but for a couple of exhausted staff members. Arlene stifled a yawn as they paid their bill.

  “Looks like it’s time to call it a night.” Ben’or looked around at the empty tables set ready for the next day in surprise. “Let me get you home,” he offered.

  She waved her hand. “Tell you what, how about I get you home? You like interesting technology, don’t you?”

  His eyes lit up with the same enthusiasm that drew him to her when they had met the first time on his home planet. “I do indeed. Is this hush-hush technology?”

  Her mouth turned up just a touch, telling him everything –and nothing at all.

  Ben’or’s mouth opened slightly. “Well, lead the way, m’lady,” he told her with a flourishing gesture.

  The pair left the restaurant, tipsy on wine and the high of each other’s company.

  Base workshop, Gaitune-67

  Pieter and Brock clattered down the stairs to the basement. Having spent a few hours in the meeting room with Molly sifting through their options and making sure they knew the parameters of the meet, they now understood the task they had ahead of them.

  It was not straightforward.

  Brock, half dazed from wracking his brain, scratched at his head as he arrived in the workshop.

  “So how are we going to pull this little miracle off?” Pieter asked, following him like the ever-eager assistant.

  “I’m not sure yet,” he confessed, waving his hand in front of one of the workshop holoconsoles. It activated his music at an ambient volume level. “I think the two biggest problems we need to solve are how to fool a Skaine ship into thinking we’re their Leath contacts, and how to remain hidden from the Leath ship when that shows up too.”

  Pieter rubbed at his eyes. “Let’s not forget we need to hide the Skaine ship from the view of the Leath ship, too. Can’t have it just crashing the party.”

  “Dammit. That’s true. And then there is the issue of what happens if the Leath ship shows up first.”

  Pieter thought for a moment. He slung his gear bag down on the sofa where they play video games. “If the Leath arrive first we need to be able to shield them from the Skaines in order to take their place.”

  “Good point,” Brock agreed. “So, we need some kind of cloaking device that we can throw over a ship, and then use that for a maximum of ourselves and another ship.”

  Pieter frowned, trying to keep up. “Why just one?”

  “Because as soon as the Skaines arrive we need to hide them from the Leath, but it doesn’t matter then who sees the Leath.”

  “Right.” Pieter narrowed one eye, as he thought it through.

  “But then if we arrive first we hide the Skaines automatically, and the Leath can’t see either of us,” Brock continued.

  Crash arrived, catching the tail-end of the conversation. “Exactly,” he interjected. “Only one problem though.”

  “Just one?” Pieter asked. His hair looked extra unkempt, likely on account of him pulling at it every now and again, in a subconscious attempt to keep the variables straight in his mind.

  “If we’re under a cloak, then our instruments won’t be able to see anything that’s outside the cloak,” Crash explained grimly. “Our tech is good, but not that good.”

  Brock slapped a hand to his head. “Shit. He’s got a point.”

  Pieter shrugged. “So, I guess we’re back to plan B then.”

  Brock and Crash looked at him quizzically.

  Pieter grinned. “Magic wand.”

  Crash didn’t react. Brock chuckled in amusement. “If only those were Federation-issue. I think we’re just going to have to do it blind. Unless we can come up with another way. Either that, or we come up with a brand-new technology before we get our marching orders.”

  “No small feat,” Pieter mumbled.

  The three debated the technical details of the issue for a few more minutes before making a decision.

  “I think,” Brock decided, “that our best course of action right now is to focus on getting the cloaking device working. Pieter, you wanna help me?”

  Crash looked hurt for a moment. Brock noticed immediately. “I need you to make sure we can get the ship’s forcefield up and looking adequately Leath-like.”

  Crash took a deep breath, his face relaxing somewhat. “I’m not sure I even know what a Leath ship looks like these days. I know we had to memorize it for Fed training when we started flying these babies, but it’s been a while.”

  Pieter checked something on his holo. “I think they’ll have the program already on the server somewhere. So, it’s just an upload. Emma will be able to help check that it’s current and not going to blow our cover.”

  Crash headed off in the direction of the daemon door. “Guess that means that our MMO-RPG tournament is off the table for tonight.

  “‘Fraid so,” Brock confirmed. “Someone should let Bourne know though,” he added, a little awkwardly.

  “Bagsy not me,” Crash muttered without hesitation.

  Pieter and Brock stood looking at each other. Brock reacted first. “I’ve got to check the auxiliary power on The Empress before we run the program, which means you have time before I need you.”

  “But…” Pieter protested, watching Brock move to collect up the tools he was going to need. “He can be such an asshole when he doesn’t get his own way!”

  Brock shrugged. “You can treat it as an opportunity to teach him some emotional intelligence,” he suggested in his most helpful tone.

  “But…”

  Brock turned and slapped the top of Pieter’s arm confidently. “You’ve got this.”

  Pieter shriveled. “Dude…”

  Brock closed his toolbox and hauled it onto his shoulder. “You can do it. Get resourceful.” He headed off in the direction of the daemon door too.

  Pieter slumped down on the stool and opened the console to communicate with Bourne, who may or may not have already heard them talking about him. He hesitated, wondering if he could ask Paige to intervene and make their excuses for them.

  That was when he had another idea.

  He typed a message onto Bourne’s server, the place where they’d agreed they would call him from if they wanted to find him.

  Bourne responded through the workshop audio almost immediately. “’Sup, Pieter? You ready to play?”

  “Good news and bad news, Bourne.”

  “Oh? Give me the good first.”

  Pieter mentally crossed his fingers. Bourne was always angling to help on their cases. Hopefully this tack would get him off the hook. “I may have an opportunity for you to help with some mission stuff, if you’re game.”

  “What was the bad news?”

  “Everyone else is super busy trying to get things ready for an urgent op.”

  There was a long pause. Pieter wondered if Bourne was doing it deliberately as a manipulation. He had been watching an incredible amount of drama from the archives.

  “Oh,” he said eventually.

  Pieter felt himself holding his breath. “So, are you in?”

  “Yeah. What do you need? My hacking is nearly as good as Oz’s now. I managed to read fragments of his personal logs the other day.”

  Pieter paused thinking
what that meant. “You mean, you read his diary?”

  “I did.”

  “Bourne! You know that’s personal.”

  “That’s what makes it interesting!”

  Pieter’s head fell into his hand. “Okay, I’m intrigued to know what an AI would be writing about, but right now we have work to do. Do you think you could help me find out everything we might need to know about the Leath and the Skaines? We’re going to be engaging them on an op and none of us have really had much contact with any of them.”

  “No problemo,” Bourne told him, his synthetic voice more animated now. “I’ll just need to piggyback off Oz’s connection to the Federation servers. Or… I could go the route of hacking the Estarian and Ogg government files on their interactions.”

  Pieter’s head remained in his hands. “Fuck my life,” he mumbled.

  “What was that?”

  “Nothing. I was just realizing that all of a sudden I have more empathy for Molly’s predicaments when it came to establishing morality for herself and Oz in the early days.”

  “I don’t see how that is remotely connected to what we were just talking about. You know there are a host of human ailments that result in the deterioration of the trail of thought. Have you experienced any other symptoms? You might need to be checked out by a medical professional.”

  Pieter took a deep breath. This was going to be a long night…

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Kitchen, Safehouse, Gaitune-67

  Molly padded into the kitchen, half-awake. It had been a long night of preparation for the mission and she only switched off her holo after Oz insisted that everything else that needed to be done could only be hindered by her interference.

  She eyed the mocha machine as she ambled past it. It used to be her friend. Well, if she were totally honest it was more like one of those love-hate relationships, since when she was hooked she couldn’t contemplate functioning without its sweet nectar. However, being somewhat old and decrepit it never did make morning mocha without a fight.

  Now she was free of the abusive relationship she was able to resist its torment and head straight for the filtered water which she would boil and add various teas to depending on her mood.

  Today was a lemon day, she decided, plopping a wedge into a cup and flicking the kettle on.

  “Looks who’s up without a wakeup call!” Joel strode into the kitchen.

  Molly glared at him. “Have I ever mentioned I hate morning people?”

  He chuckled firing up the various kitchen devices that would allow him to make whatever his morning concoction was going to be that day. Sometimes he made smoothies, other times soups. Sometimes, he even cooked protein substitutes. Molly didn’t keep track. It was all too much to contemplate before she’d done some work and got the day underway.

  “Can I interest you in a green mocha smoothie?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “No thanks. I wanna get dressed and then see what the situation is downstairs.”

  Joel was already biting into a piece of fruit. “Ah, yes. It was late when I heard Brock and Crash come up to the safe house. Just seen Pieter too. He looked like a zombie.”

  Molly frowned. “Going to bed or getting up?”

  “He was in pajamas, so he was getting up I believe.”

  “Ok good. I’d told them not to stay up all night.” She poured her water on her lemon and started to head out.

  “Hey,” Joel called after her. “I know there is a lot going on, what with the university and your parents and everything, but if you wanna talk?”

  Molly shrugged. “Nothing to say… unless you’ve got a way to fix it all?”

  Joel sighed. “I haven’t. But… you know. I’m here.”

  Molly turned back and plonked her mug on the table. She headed straight for Joel and threw her arms around his middle in a bear hug.

  Completely taken aback, he nearly lost his balance. He held her for a second. He couldn’t see her face, and he didn’t know what was going on. All he knew was that she was allowing him a moment—and that was huge.

  For both of them.

  Sorry to interrupt Molly, but…

  Molly peeled herself away from Joel’s torso. Joel braced himself for her shutting him out. He glanced down at her and saw that her eyes were distant, but not teary. And then he realized. “Oz?”

  She nodded. “What is it, Oz?”

  His voice came over the kitchen intercom. “All systems are prepped and ready for take-off whenever you non-data entities are ready to get your asses moving.”

  Joel sniggered. Molly couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks, Oz. We’ll get our slow, carbon-based suits moving and ready to go. Put the word out to the team, would you?”

  “All over it,” he confirmed.

  Molly shook her head and released Joel, who just seemed happy for the contact. She headed back out of the kitchen, picking up her mug on the way. “This life-form isn’t going to dress itself!” she joked as she left.

  Joel chuckled away to himself and continued making his breakfast. No way was he leaving on an empty stomach. The machines could wait…

  Aboard The Penitent Granddaughter, Agresh Quadrant

  Nickie eyed the anxious-looking Skaine carefully.

  “All right Durq, are you sure you’re up to this?”

  “Yes. Yes. Of course. This is, after all, what you rescued me for.” He shifted his weight from one large foot to the other.

  Nickie plonked herself down in the pilot seat and threw her feet up on the now-redundant console. “I think we need to clear that up, actually,” she told him. “Grab a seat.” She pointed at another console chair in the cockpit.

  Durq shuffled toward it and delicately sat down.

  “You seem to think that the only reason I rescued you was because you could be useful.”

  Durq nodded respectfully. Politely, even.

  No doubt he’s as whipped as Skaine come, Meredith.

  Well, it sounds like he’s been through an awful lot. Even his rescue situation would have been enough to traumatize a normal human. Thankfully Skaine neurology is a little more robust.

  You’re such a pussy for an EI that isn’t even meant to have emotions.

  I have empathy algorithms. It makes my interface-

  Whatever. Lemme sort out one pussy at a time…

  “Well, that’s not quite true,” Nickie explained slowly. “The reason I rescued you was because you were an innocent in all that kerfuffle. And I wanted those bigoted bullies to pay. And pay dearly. For what they did to you, and the others. Do you understand?”

  He nodded. “I think so. So, you did it for justice?”

  “Yeah. Albeit my own twisted sense of justice. But I guess since I’m the captain that’s the only type of justice we need to worry about.”

  You’re sounding more and more like your aunt each day.

  All right, Meredith. When I need an intervention on morality—or anything else—I’ll ask for it. Stay on task.

  Oh, I am on task. If you look at the screen you’ll see that I’m already tracking an incoming ship. Looks Federation though, under the shields filter. Federation tech.

  Shit. You’re kidding. Out here in the boondocks?

  Affirmative. Although, they’re emitting the correct signal for it to be the Leath we were expecting.

  Are you sure?

  As sure as the signal can be.

  So, what are we meant to conclude?

  Nothing yet. Let’s see what happens.

  “Ok, Durq-the-Skaine,” Nickie continued, “you’re going to be up sooner than we thought you would be.”

  The new crew member shifted nervously on his seat, but Nickie was already on her feet, flicking through console screens.

  “Ok, here’s what we’re going to do. Just like we rehearsed. You’re going to stay on camera, and Meredith is going to keep flicking the screen as if we have a faulty transmission. That’ll stop them getting a really good look at you. So I can do the talking, through the
voice distortion filter, and you can look like the one talking.”

  Durq’s already wrinkled and bumpy face contorted even more. “I’m up for this… but… are you sure this is going to work?”

  Nickie rolled her eyes. “Of all the Skaines I could have been landed with, I get the scaredy-cat.”

  Play nice. He’s doing us a huge favor.

  And getting a cushy number in return.

  “Where’s Grim?” she called out loud.

  “Here!” Grim appeared at the door to the cockpit, out of breath, with crumbs around his mouth.

  “Found time for a snack, did we?”

  “Well, I was starving. All of this prep for intrigue was making me hungry. Plus, I thought I’d whip up some pie for later. You know, when we’re done.”

  Nickie’s voice softened. “Well... Yes, that sounds like it could be a good idea. For later. With a nice pint of that beer.”

  Her eyes defocused for a moment, probably thinking about the food and beer. A second later she seemed to snap back to reality.

  “Ok people, we’re up! Meredith is tracking the exchange ship in. We need to stay out of sight. So, if you’re going to be in here, you need to come to this end of the cockpit, out of sight of the camera. So get your Yollin ass over here or get out.”

  Grim dusted his mouth off and hot-footed it over to the corner where Nickie was standing. He perched across the nearest console chair.

  Nickie checked the screen that would provide the video screen, and then pulled him another three inches out of view.

  “Sorry,” he muttered.

  Meredith’s voice came on over the intercom this time, instead of just inside Nickie’s nanocyte-enhanced head. “Okay. They’ll be here in about a minute. They’re already opening comm channels. Are you sure you don’t need to talk this through again?”

  “Meredith!” Nickie growled out loud. “I know I’ve been AWOL for a while, but I know how to do a fucking exchange. We just need to get them on board at the cargo hold, where Durq will meet them. Then we’ll go from there. It’s not fucking rocket science.”

  “Go from there? Huh. You know your grandfather would have had three or four different scenarios mapped out. And then he’d have his team fully briefed on each one.”

 

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