Fracture sf-5

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Fracture sf-5 Page 5

by Randolph Lalonde


  “No change?” Stephanie asked, finishing the last bite of her breakfast bar.

  “No, she's still out. Says here she might need some kind of synaptic therapy.”

  “You can see that?” Agameg asked. “I was only able to see her basic status on Crewcast.”

  “I guess Commander Everin added me to Alice's circle of friends when he set up the Crewcast system. I've gotta thank him for giving everyone this software, it's so much fun.”

  “I think he set it up to make up for the lack of artificial intelligences aboard. There's no other efficient way to sort through waiting messages and other information.”

  “It's so annoying,” Stephanie grumbled. “Shamus keeps looking up my location and leaving message bombs.”

  “What's a message bomb?”

  “He marks a place on the ship, records something and when I pass by it activates a message. I was on my way to the botanical gallery yesterday to check on Doctor Murlen's newest litter when out of nowhere an automated message comes through my comm.”

  “What did it say?” Ashley asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “It was obnoxious! You know, I understand why the automated message triggers can be placed, I've already used them to mark patrol routes for some of my people, but using them as message bombs-”

  “Oh, come on, what did it say?” she interrupted, anxious and pounding her feet on the deck.

  “It whistled and said; 'Nice tail!' I was so surprised I didn't realize it was over the comm and stopped in the middle of the main causeway, looking for him for a few seconds.”

  “Classy,” Ashley giggled.

  Even Agameg couldn't help but chuckle, squeezing his big, round green eyes closed to slits and huffing air. The fine tendrils adorning his face flipped and rippled.

  “I swear he wouldn't know class if he were on a college campus.”

  “But you like him, otherwise you wouldn't let him into your quarters.”

  “Don't remind me,” Stephanie groaned.

  Agameg looked at his comm unit. “They'll be completing the scan of the immediate area and starting the hypertransmitter systems in a few minutes. We should go to the bridge.”

  “Do you think they'd mind? None of us are on duty,” Ashley asked. “I mean, I could just catch my comm update here.”

  “All bridge officers, Commanders and Chiefs are invited.”

  “Let's go.”

  The bridge was only two doors down from the officers observation lounge. The large double doors had been rebuilt as sliding doors just as thick as the old ones. The antiquated arms that once pulled the thick armoured hatches out of the doorway and drew them aside were nowhere to be seen. The walls the doors slid into were much thicker, however. It was plain to see by the narrowing of the concourse as they reached the main secure upper entrance.

  At their approach the heavy, meter thick ergranian enhanced armoured doors moved to the sides, their passage along the smooth slots in the floor and ceiling was accentuated by a slight rumbling underfoot.

  All three of them couldn't help but stare at the wonder of the rebuilt bridge. Most of the damage had been done to the bow conference room and the bridge office beside it. The colour chosen for the semi-transparent deck plating was crimson. The crew stations and other fixtures, including the captain's chair had been made to match with seat padding furnished in jet black.

  There was a wall of holographic status reports between the four command seats flanking the captain's chair and the other stations. The walls made the entire place look like it was made of windows, convincingly displaying the vista around the ship, including the ceiling. The field of stars above Triton was breathtaking.

  The main bridge was fully crewed with Captain Jacob Valance in the centre. To his right was Ayan in a variation of the black vacsuit Triton uniform. She wore a long grey coat that was open at the front enough for all to see that she was as well armed as any crew member with a heavy side arm strapped to her leg. It was cut for style as well with long lines to make her look taller.

  To Captain Valance's left was Terry Ozark McPatrick, or Oz as people had come to call him. Commander Jason Everin was beside him, working at a holographic interface and two dimensional panel that was attached to the bottom of his seat with a thin arm.

  Holographic representations of other key crew members such as Engineering Chief Grady, Lead Technician Finn and Gunnery Chief Frost were distributed along the edges of the bridge. All together there were another dozen crew members on that level, and when the trio looked down through the semi-transparent floor there was another area entirely.

  The flight control Centre was located below the main bridge and could be accessed via two man ramp ways or through the secondary command deck just beneath them. That was where any ships around Triton were directed from, fighter missions were observed and many other off ship endeavours were monitored. They had very little to do with the activation of the hypertransmitter systems that would open hundreds of miniature wormholes near the ship so they could communicate effectively with the known galaxy but they were quite busy nonetheless.

  There was something going on, something very interesting that few people outside of the flight control Centre knew about. Anyone who had spent time on the temporary bridge knew that it was important, however, and that it warranted the first mass mobilization of Triton fighters and gunships. Chief Angelo Vercelli sat in the centre seat beneath. He was positioned so the Captain could look down and see his control and monitoring systems and the Flight Commander.

  Oz would be taking over after the hypertransmitter was brought on line so he could personally oversee the direction of traffic around the ship and help direct the Wing Commander's mission. Everywhere the trio looked there was something interesting going on, some different activity that interacted with the most exciting morning Triton had seen since anyone had gotten aboard.

  “I thought you'd be here,” Larry, Ashley's copilot said as he came to stand beside her. “Ready to dodge asteroids all day?”

  “We're not going in are we? The flight plan said-”

  “No, but they've been talking about taking Triton closer to the edge and skirting along so it's harder for Regent Galactic or anyone else to pick us up at a distance.”

  “Sounds fun,” Ashley smiled.

  “I thought you'd say that. It'll be just you and I at the helm for the first six hours.”

  “Just the way I like it. No newbie navigator to yap in my right ear. Whose joining us late in the shift?”

  “Warren. That is if we're not pulled to prevent fatigue.”

  “Oh, good, he's not bad.”

  “Yup, he's getting better. Who are you transmitting to?”

  “A few old friends. Just want to see if they're okay. You?”

  “I have an uncle who settled coreward, he'll probably be happy I'm all right.”

  “Probably?”

  “He's a bit of a recluse. We haven't been too chatty for a few years.”

  “Ah, well at least you have someone. I'm surprised at how many people just don't have anyone to send a message to.”

  “Well, the war comes with a cost. Looks like they're about to start things off.” Larry nodded towards the centre of the bridge and the command seat where Captain Jacob Valance was standing. A whistle sounded over the ship wide communications network, indicating that the Captain or commanding officer was about to address the ship.

  Silence fell over the bridge and flight control centre. “Soon communications between Triton and the civilized worlds will be something we take for granted,” Captain Valance started, hoping he sounded pleasant but authoritative. There were fifteen essential crew members on the bridge and another ten non-essential onlookers. “But today we're taking three big steps that will make this ship feel like a home. Most of the messages you've sent to our comm office will be forwarded to their destinations after our new hypertransmitter comes online for the first time. We'll reopen communications with those same communications hubs and major world
s to accept replies when we can. We'll also be downloading news packets, entertainment and any messages that are addressed to registered members of the crew. Your comm units will be updated as we scan and clear incoming data.

  The next first step we're taking today is the deployment of a full fighter wing and our larger refitted combat vessels led by Wing Commander Minh-Chu Buu. Those of you who lurk and compete in the training simulations would know him as Ronin. There are raiders attacking the station we've come to trade with and we plan on making a good impression. When we've secured the area we'll begin replacing the pair of primary thrusters that have been offline since Pandem. Once those repairs are complete I can start fulfilling my promises to you. We'll bring the fight to Regent Galactic and the Order of Eden by using our communications systems and fighters to locate the enemy. I also promise that we'll try to find a port where everyone can at the very least take shore leave on a nice sandy beach or great big entertainment centre. Let's get to work. Triton!”

  “ Triton!” Everyone within earshot called back. An enthusiastic cheer spread across the entire ship. Jake knew as he sat down that people were mostly excited at the prospect of leave, of better days and the rest of his speech had been informational as far as most of the crew was concerned. He didn't care, the confidence and order he'd seen fall into place since basic rank had been imposed along with some rudimentary military principles was worth celebrating as far as he was concerned.

  It had been a busy time to say the least. As soon as he woke from utter exhaustion it seemed he was put to work. Triton spent two weeks in a wormhole en route to a broad, unnamed asteroid field that boasted several heavy points of gravity surrounding one large one. It was claimed by a fringe harvesting company called Orrico. He expected to be confronted when Triton arrived, and hoped that he could strike a bargain that would win them a safe harbour while they repaired two of their main engines. Alice's notes said it was a well hidden, well defended outpost. According to the scans they'd taken it was evident that the post and a large area around it was hidden and everything outside it was electronically dead.

  There was wreckage of all size scattered throughout and around the gargantuan asteroid ring, more wrecked hardware than he'd ever seen Raiders leave behind. Something else had happened, and the key to finding the details was inside the protected area, Jake was certain. The wealth of raw materials in the asteroid belt alone would be good enough to feed their matter converters and if there was a place to hide in the middle of the field they could make repairs in peace.

  He looked to Ayan, who had worked as hard or harder than anyone and looked like she'd gotten up several hours too early. He couldn't help but smile at her. Jake hadn't had nearly as much time as he wanted to spend with her despite his desire to get to know her all over again. The biggest problem they had was finding something personal to talk about. He had no problem talking about the ship, the crew, but he was conversationally clumsy whenever he tried to bring up anything personal. It wasn't like they were picking up where they left off. Most of what he knew about her had been learned through simulations when he was back on Freeground. They had spoken for years and met as avatars before they ever met in person. Even though he'd never forget the time they had together on the First Light it had been cut short. They still had so much to learn about each other and he had no idea where to start.

  Oz was a different story. He'd seasoned, gained experience as a Captain of his own ship. To Jake's surprise he never showed dissatisfaction at being the First Officer of Triton. The easy relationship he'd formed with the man on the First Light reappeared within hours of serving beside him on the bridge. Theirs was an art of delegation and direction, each of them doing their absolute best to make sure that the Triton was safe, the crew was working at a sustainable pace, and that they had the right plans for the near future.

  All the while they watched their friend, Minh-Chu Buu, who was in his absolute glory. With years of practice in hundreds of sims while he was adrift between the stars and experience before that in an actual starfighter he dove into the qualifications, the tournament ladder and the squadron training with the rest of the pilots. Their enthusiastic old friend found his way to the top in short order, and while it was evident that he'd honed his skills to a deadly point, he had also gained a keen understanding of strategy.

  He was likeable, had the military training and discipline required for command and the few seasoned pilots aboard respected him. Jake appointed him as Triton’s first Wing Commander after ten days and charged him with the continued training and leadership of all the pilots aboard. It was an obvious choice to anyone who had jumped in on a starfighter or fleet combat simulation while he was participating.

  After meeting with Liam Grady Ayan took a day to decide which project to work on. She undertook the daunting task of building replacement engines for the Triton. Six days of manufacture and assembly led to the pair of completed thrusters that filled the rear section of hangar three. They were ready to replace the thrusters Captain Wheeler had destroyed in their last engagement. When that was complete she involved herself with repairing the bridge and other complicated control systems. If she had time left Ayan would work with Jason Everin in composing several messages meant for the Freeground, Carthan and Timar governments. Her hope was to open a dialogue so she and Jake could form a relationship with them, whether it be for trade, privateering or an all out alliance. There was so much for her to catch up on that her gaze was constantly affixed to her comm unit. If that wasn't enough she also worked with Laura Everin, her long time best friend, to implement systems first used on The Needle into the main engines and other Triton propulsion systems. There was never enough time in a day.

  Jacob couldn't help but think of Alice as they were about to start up the hypertransmitter systems. He had devised the plan behind the acquisition of the components required to build it but she rounded out the rough edges and created contingencies that were risky but worth it in the end.

  There were five seats in the centre of the bridge, more than enough room for everyone he'd want beside him in the worst of times. Ayan, Oz, Jason and Alice. Of everything he'd gained thanks to his life after the First Light, she was the best. She had even topped off her plan to rescue him and the others from Pandem with a safe destination; an asteroid field well off the charts with a successful mining and trading operation perfect for extended repairs.

  “You look light years away,” Ayan whispered to him as she double checked the power feeds leading to the main wormhole emitter systems using a holographic schematic.

  “I think they're waiting for you to give the order,” Oz reminded him with a wry grin. “You're going to have to let me in on that thought later.”

  Jake recovered himself and cleared his throat, focusing on the main holographic display arranged in a semicircle in front of the main command seating. “All stations ready?”

  “All stations report ready,” Oz confirmed.

  “Then flip the switch. Let's see what the galaxy's been up to.”

  The Triton’s hypertransmitter systems came online soundlessly. Even though no one could see them with the naked eye everyone on the bridge knew that the stolen system was generating hundreds of micro wormholes a second, reaching out to distant solar systems, other hypertransmitters, space stations, digital way stations and major shipping lanes across the known galaxy.

  At first a few messages trickled through, then Jason Everin's console lit up, followed by Jake's then Oz's and finally Ayan's. They were viewing a summary of collected data, hundreds of topics and titles scrolled by faster than they could read. Selecting one topic led to hundreds of subcategories that contained news reports, personal communications, financial reports, entertainment, purchasable designs, advertising and more advertising.

  Jake checked his personal directory and caught names of people he'd come to know since he'd taken command of the Samson, a few law enforcement offices that wanted to offer him work as a bounty hunter or repossession agent and ev
en a call to arms for the Triton herself which he promised himself he'd look into later. Then something he didn't expect caught his eye and he put his finger down on it before it could scroll up and out of sight. Captain Lucius Wheeler of the Order of Eden ship Saviour conducts a public execution of Triton crew members. It said. He tapped it open and glimpsed the face of a former crew member from the Samson, Silver.

  Before anyone could see the small image he archived it. “Everything we're getting is quarantined, right?” Captain Valance asked Jason in a hushed tone.

  “Yeah, why?”

  “Nothing can slip out?”

  “Not with the block in place on everyone's comms. Only senior staff can start receiving news, general entertainment and personal messages have to be scanned.”

  Jake looked back and saw that the senior staff were just starting to receive updated news and new instalments from their entertainment subscriptions. He looked across the faces of the crew and spotted Ashley eagerly bringing up one major news and entertainment report after another. The small holograms that hovered over her comm unit would have been a little comical if he didn't know what she'd be stumbling upon. “Ash, shut down your comm unit please.”

  She didn't look up at him at first, concentrating on the preview of a Hyper Pongo League game she was receiving instead. “Why? Something wrong with my comm?” Her expression fell in the next instant as she came across an advertisement for her ex-lover's public and evidently painful public execution. His holographic face was ragged, complexion sallow, eyes red, and his gums were receding terribly, bleeding openly. A set of cables had been drilled into his head like a crown. Another group had been driven into his neck, their entry points seeped with blood and pus. “Kill me, please kill me,” begged Silver quietly, barely moving his mouth. As Ashley watched a signal was delivered to his brain. The slack and exhausted face on her display contorted and screamed, howled with reckless abandon.

  Ashley's eyes were instantly brimming with tears, her opposite hand went over her mouth and as the image faded to be replaced with the message; TRAITORS DIE, ONLY ON JUSTICE ONE, 2137, she shook her head in horrified disbelief. “Oh no, no no no,” she sobbed quietly.

 

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