Fracture sf-5

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Fracture sf-5 Page 17

by Randolph Lalonde

He briefly checked the crew status on his command unit and opened a channel to Ayan. "You're overdue. What's going on?"

  Jake took a second look at his command unit, using the two dimensional display so no one else would see what he was doing as he stepped into a busy lift car. The system reported that his connection was unidirectional, her comm wasn't connecting to his. He selected Finn's comm and tried to connect unsuccessfully. The lift doors opened to exchange passengers. "Express car override, command authority, take me to the bridge," he told the system.

  Everyone in the elevator fell silent and either looked at him in surprise or did their best to look like they weren't paying attention at all.

  The system didn't acknowledge his command and he irritably reached between two passengers and punched the instructions into the control panel. The car picked up speed, travelling several dozen meters horizontally before accelerating upwards towards the forward command section of the ship.

  Everyone between Captain Valance and the express car exit stepped aside and when they opened he strode out then across the concourse and straight onto the bridge. The heavy armoured doors were wide open and he stopped at the control panel to increase the security level so they would remain closed unless someone who was authorized to be on the bridge needed to enter or leave.

  "Open a comm line to Ayan or anyone on the station team. They're overdue," he ordered as he strode to the command seat.

  "I can't make a connection with any of them. It's like all their comms are deactivated."

  "Raise Chief Vega and the Cold Reaver," Captain Valance ordered as he checked the status of his command crew. Jason and Laura were already awake, having breakfast in the observation lounge. He put him on high alert, knowing that his command and control unit would flash red and direct him to the bridge immediately.

  "I can't get them either."

  "Are we being jammed?"

  "No, it's like they're not answering," sir.

  "Start a general repeating hail to the station on all frequencies. If there's someone with a working comm over there I want to speak to them." Jake ordered the night communications officer, he was a younger fellow, recently qualified. "Commander Everin is on his way, he'll handle the signal scanning and more advanced work." He looked to his right and saw that Oilimae, the night tactical officer was at her post. The issyrian had been trained by Agameg, and had good numbers from simulations and qualifications. "What does the station look like right now?"

  Oilimae made the station the primary focus of the bridge's main holographic tactical display before replying, centring on the section that Ayan's team was last reported in. "Our readings indicate that thirty five percent of the station now has life support. Commander Ayan's teams and the Cold Reaver are within the repaired section."

  "How much of the station had life support before?"

  "Before the Commander's team arrived?"

  "Yes."

  "Less than eight, sir."

  "Well, she did a good job."

  "Reporting as ordered, Captain," Jason said as he ducked under the heavy bridge door behind the command seat. "When I brought Crewcast online last week I didn't think I'd be seeing an alert level summons for a while, what's up?"

  "Ayan's team is overdue and unreachable. My comm says her last check in was a little over two hours ago."

  "That's not like her," Jason commented as he took the lead communications position.

  "You have ten minutes to get us in touch before I take a team station side," Jake informed him.

  Chapter 14

  Communication Breakdown

  "Do you know who those people are? It's like we jumped out of the frying pan and landed on the sun! We can't hold their people! They're trying to communicate, it's only a matter of time before they send someone over and then we'll wish the raiders were still trying to break in!" shouted an unshaven man in a stained white smock.

  "Shut up Brad! Your panicking isn't helping!" A bald woman shouted back, bringing her hand down hard on the common room table. The emergency communications terminal rattled. The display blinked green and blue, indicating that a general transmission was coming in. "I don't know for sure who that is, and neither do you! All I know is that they just came in and took out a whole fleet of raiders like it was routine cleanup and they're not from the company. Now that we have more doors to close, we're closing them until we can get a supervisor on comms or an emergency frigate in range."

  "That's the Triton! You ever hear of the Triton? Maybe you heard of Captain Valance? He sent his people here to help us and thanks to you lot, we've shut the doors and trapped them inside! Do you know what someone like that does to someone who crosses him? We're done, Larissa, bloody finished!"

  "It's a myth, ten times the bark to once the bite. What we have here is too important to let someone who isn't with the company to see, and if more of his people come aboard they will see what we're sitting on!"

  "Shut your yaps! Both of you! We've got everything locked down tight for now. It's a pity we have to keep the repair people they sent over under wraps, but we knew it would be necessary when they offered their help," a woman in a heavy vacsuit said calmly. "Oberman should have the MWorm generator reconnected any minute and then we can contact the company. They'll have someone here in a day or two."

  "Seventeen hours, that's how long it takes a rescue ship to get here, seventeen hours," Brad specified. He sat down in one of the old steel chairs so hard it creaked. The common room was furnished to seat many, but not too comfortably. Stark white and grey speckled flooring, bare metal walls and a dozen utility tables with chairs made for a dingy recreation area, but it was effective. One wall was spattered with dried blood, against it were the remains of a cafeteria serving bot. Its six arms hung limply and the cables that had been torn free when they managed to get to its power cell and remove it remained as they had been since the Holocaust Virus had struck the station.

  "We'll be fine 'till then. We just have to keep our heads, keep whoever's out there away from us and we'll start rebuilding."

  "Rebuilding? You can start rebuilding. I'm transferring out," Brad scoffed. "That's if they don't just open fire until we crumble and drop out of orbit."

  "Even if they are who you think they are, why would they? We have at least thirty of their people plus whoever's trapped in that gunship in the secondary landing bay."

  "Okay, fine. So you rebuild. With who? Before all hell broke loose this station had what? Six hundred indentured miners and support personnel?"

  "Actually, it was a little over a thousand including the station crew and technicians," Larissa corrected as she sat down at the table.

  "Okay, one thousand. How are you going to staff up? We're down to fifty three."

  "I won't have to worry about that, this operation is so important that the company will leave anyone half way qualified here. Besides, when they see we have eleven tons of raw diamond ready to ship, they'll have to."

  "But the Triton has got to have gotten a scan off on the core of the station. There's no way they've been sitting out there this long without finding a way to scan through the magnetic barrier."

  "Have you ever gotten a scan to read through the barrier?"

  "No, Amanda, I haven't. That's a bloody big carrier out there though, unlike I've ever seen. Who knows what they can do?"

  "Oberman here," the intercom crackled overhead. "MWorm gennie is up and running. Are we talking to the repair guys who fixed the power yet?"

  Amanda activated the intercom switch on the neck of her loose vacsuit. "No. Make sure that line is secure and go help everyone else secure the station. I'm calling the company. Oh, and if you can get power to those cannon mounts so they can look operational…"

  "That's doable. I can even get them rotating but they'll never fire."

  "As long as it looks like we can fight, we just have to make sure they keep their distance."

  "Right. On my way."

  She took the portable console from Larissa, brought a listi
ng of primary contacts up on the screen and initiated communications. The display turned a light shade of green as it verified that the micro wormhole generator was online and creating a high compression wormhole to a relay station light years away. The lights dimmed noticeably. The three station officers waited patiently, Brad absent mindedly tugged on his goatee.

  A brown Caran Enterprises screen came up. The square, diamond and circle logo hovered just above the lettering. Amanda selected a rotating exclamation point. It moved to the centre of the screen and rotated for several seconds before a squarish face appeared. "You are recognized, Amanda Dimitri. The senior Foreperson on Ossimi Ring Station. You're declaring an emergency?"

  "Yes. A virus infected our primary systems and our automated workforce after Eden Fleet disabled our defences. We recently fended off some raiders and are currently under siege by a new, unknown threat. The ship's name is Triton."

  "That ship is wanted in connection with violations of several galactic laws. Are you being coerced in any way right now?"

  "No, I'm not being forced to communicate with you and no one's telling me what to say."

  "Are any of your defences online?"

  "No, Eden Fleet destroyed them before leaving. The obscuring field is up though, so we can't be scanned at long range."

  "Good. What is the condition of any product you have on hand?"

  "Always about the product. That's aaaaall the company cares about," Brad muttered as he leaned back in his seat.

  "We have enough to pay for repairs to the station and more. Can you send a ship?"

  "A rescue vessel and military escort was dispatched when your station management lost contact. They should arrive shortly."

  "Can they handle a large carrier?"

  "Certainly. Your instructions, Foreperson Dimitri, are to keep the product safe, gather your personnel in the most secure part of the station and make every effort to prevent further damage. There will be bonus pay if you are able to detain any of the perpetrators or recruit new workers to counter any casualties you may have sustained. There is also a large bounty on the Triton and any crew members. End communication, thank you."

  The channel closed, shortly followed by the micro wormhole generator and the lights returned to their normal brightness. Amanda sat back and smiled. "I knew I heard about a bounty. Anyone want to try for that bonus?"

  The main crew compartment for the Cold Reaver was nothing more than a large hold made to carry many soldiers from a carrier or garrison to the field of combat. Most of the crew relaxed by hooking themselves up to the straps dangling from the ceiling. When strapped in they could let the shoulders of their vacsuit armour take their weight and hang.

  Ayan had ordered everyone in the station to retreat to the Cold Reaver three hours before, when the power to the main section of the station was restored and they realized that they had lost all contact with the Triton and the station crew were no longer using the jury rigged comm unit to speak to them. It was strange, very strange.

  Ayan, Finn, Stephanie and Alaka stood separately from the rest of the soldiers and technicians they had brought with them. "So we repair the links to the gravity mill, restore power and life support to about half the station and they just stop talking? It doesn't make sense," Stephanie said quietly. She was the only one in the group hanging by a crew restraint.

  "Is it possible that communications were damaged when the power was brought back online?" Alaka asked.

  "Not on my end. We were nowhere near the communications systems," Finn replied.

  Ayan thought for a long moment before answering; "Communications? Oh, not a chance," she replied as though she just realized a question was asked.

  "What are you thinking Commander?" Alaka asked her.

  "I can't stop thinking about that power drain. There are only a few things that could have caused it. Stabilization thrusters being one, but we're in a stable orbit and this station can't travel. From what we can tell they haven't restarted mining operations, and they're not producing anything like antimatter or causing a high energy reaction like you'd need to restart a singularity reactor."

  "That leaves spatial compression," Finn mused.

  "A wormhole, exactly. I'm thinking it may have been a micro wormhole for communications."

  "How does that add up with them locking every airlock and hatch down with us inside and then not keeping in touch with us?" Finn asked.

  "They must have new information from the outside," Ayan looked to each of the senior officers around her before continuing. "The Order of Eden has put a bounty out on Triton crew members. If they're looking to contain us for a prize this is the quickest way to do it."

  "I was wondering when that would happen. I'm just surprised it could come around and bite us on the ass so fast," Stephanie nodded.

  Alaka and Finn didn't seem shocked either, a surprise to Ayan. "We're left with three options; cut our way to them, which would take days and send the wrong message, we could try to re-establish contact, or we can cut our way out."

  "I think we should cut our way out," Stephanie offered.

  "Yes, we can figure everything out once we're back aboard the Triton," Alaka agreed.

  "Maybe it is some kind of error. There could be interference caused by a discharge somewhere," Finn shrugged. "Just because we weren't near the comm systems doesn't mean it isn't fried part way through, or there isn't some kind of jamming malfunction, we know they have the tech here to do that kind of thing on purpose, why not by mistake?"

  "It's unlikely but possible, I'll admit. Still, we should give a diplomatic solution a try while everyone else works on opening the hangar door enough to permit the Cold Reaver to leave."

  "I'm going with you, and we're going armed," Alaka told her.

  "I'd have it no other way. We came aboard on their terms and it's gotten us nowhere, time to do things our way." Ayan strode to a weapons locker and retrieved a pulse pistol and rifle. She holstered the first and clipped the second to her chest. "All right, I need three technicians, Alaka and two squads with me. Everyone else stays here and works on getting that hangar door open."

  Finn was the first technician to step forward, there were several more behind him, many more than three.

  "You're staying here and directing the effort to get the door open Finn. I'll take any three techs you recommend though," Ayan said.

  Finn picked three out of the volunteers and they joined Alaka's squad members.

  Ayan took a spool of strong, thin wire from her engineering pack, clipped it to her belt and attached the other to a Cold Reaver comm panel. "We're going to use wired and laserlink communications so they can't jam us. If my wire gets cut, set up a laserlink relay just like you've all practised in simulation. If you can't contact me or run into heavy resistance trying to get to me use whatever means necessary to get back to the Triton. Chief Vega will be in charge of everything besides getting that door open. That'll be Finn's job. Use everything you need."

  "Good luck Commander," Stephanie replied. "I'll tell you if anything changes on our end."

  "Thank you, Commander," Finn added.

  Ayan, Alaka, the technicians and two squads of soldiers poured out of the Cold Reaver's main gangway at a run. With the life support back on their suits didn't have to counter the heavy gravity so the strength amplification systems made their movements feel light and effortless.

  Terry Ozark McPatrick stepped out of the private ready quarters lift onto the bridge and was struck still for a moment. Every station was manned on the upper and lower levels, internal and external tactical status holodisplays were spaced out across the middle of the bridge, extra personnel were standing by, ready to take a place at a station if an officer there was called away to another task and in the middle of the hornet's nest was Captain Jacob Valance. He was the dark, cold centre around which everything orbited.

  The ship was on full combat alert, everyone was called to stations. The Flight Operations deck beneath the main bridge was just as busy
and bustling and at a glance Oz could see Chief Angelo Vercelli manipulating the three dimensional interfaces that marked which fighters were ready to launch and which should be loaded after they had been punted out of the Triton’s lower hull.

  Without a word he strode to the command seat at Captain Valance's left and brought up the ship wide status screen. Something he wished he'd done before leaving his ready quarters. He managed to stifle his surprised reaction when he read the first line of the status. "They have Ayan and the whole team locked in the station?"

  "They do. We can't contact them, but a close flyby with a Uriel fighter showed all their life signs. Best we could tell there were two squads running towards the station's inner chamber," Jake answered.

  "Do we have a plan?"

  "We start with a show of force. I'm launching all our fighter squadrons."

  "So much for getting the new engines installed."

  Jake simply nodded.

  "Do we have any sign at all from Ayan since she last reported?"

  "None. As far as we can tell they've found a way to block any signals from or to their command units. They did just open a micro-wormhole. Jason's working on decrypting the communique."

  "How long did he say it would take?"

  "He's bringing the Minuteman supercomputer online, he said it would be about two hours after that."

  "Good."

  "Sir, the station's sent us a message."

  "Put it up," Jake said, surging to his feet.

  A hologram of a woman in an old, loose fitting heavy vacsuit appeared in front of him. " Triton. We will be willing to allow your crew members to leave after you've remanded all the raider crews into our custody. They will be charged with destruction of property and piracy. You've already taken numerous vessels into your hangars, we will expect you to comply with our demands within the hour using those ships." The message ended.

  Jake grunted to himself and sat down.

  Oz started looking up the regional law on piracy with the provision of being enslaved at the time the crime was committed.

 

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