by Alex Kings
“Yes sir, captain sir,” said Agatha, giving him a mock salute and large grin.
Hanson looked around the room, thinking. “And as soon as you're done with that, Yilva, I want you to have a look at the map. I want to know which open spaces in the Afanc are close to this one. Close enough …” He tapped the weapon. “ … that we might be able to burrow out if all else fails.”
“Hanson,” said Srak quietly, putting a huge hand on Hanson's shoulder. “I know this isn't your place. The people here are all criminals, in your view. But … if you do this, many of them will die.”
Hanson looked Srak in the eye. “I know,” he said at last. “And many of them won't deserve it. I know that. But if we do nothing, everything we've done ends with us. Mr. Bell, Project Renaissance, they'll bring their plan to fruition. And I think it's a fair bet people will die there too. So yes, given the choice, we act.”
“Everything we've done … what is that?” said Srak. “We don't have any leads. We lost Mr. Bell. We have nothing.”
“We'll be able to keep on fighting,” Hanson told him. He wished there was something more he could say, but Srak was right – after this they'd be back to square one.
The Glaber behind the door had been silent for a while. Now there came a massive bang from the other side. When Hanson looked back up, ears ringing, the door had dented visibly. A thin ribbon of black smoke trailed from a gap between the door and the floor.
A few more of those and they'd be through.
“We're done,” said Yilva. “We've got a package of incriminating messages and people to forward them to, plus our current location.”
Hanson looked at her. He felt his jaw tighten. “The map,” he said. “If we use the weapon to break through the walls, is there anywhere we can go?”
Yilva checked the map. “I don't think so … everywhere is either Shrike territory or leads to vacuum.”
“Okay,” said Hanson. “Just wanted to make sure.” He sighed. “Send the message.”
Yilva gestured at the terminal. “It's done,” she said.
The smoke coming from under the door was thinning out.
Hanson raised his voice: “Everyone, get to defensive positions! Agatha, if you're going to use that weapon, I want you here, injury or not. You'll be our heavy hitter.”
He set up behind one of the boxes of equipment to provide covering fire. As he aimed his assault rifle for the door, another immense bang came from the door, bending it back even more.
Now all he could do was wait and see whether the Shrikes got through the door before the other gangs hit them.
Chapter 26: Stealth
On the CIC, Lanik gestured at one of the screens above the command console and skimmed through the damage report again. It was as much to occupy himself as anything else.
Damage to the outer hull plating, including the loss of a docking port and three ventral laser turrets. A ruptured volatiles tank, leading to the loss of all contents. Stress fractures spotted in one of the fore bulkheads.
One crew-member dead. Another possibly crippled.
“We have a location fix,” said Dunn.
Even the best stealth systems weren't perfect. A stealth hull would be invisible to lidar, but when it came to passive sensors – to simply looking, there'd always be a giveaway. The faint ripple as the ship passed in front of a star; the trickle of infrared slightly warmer than the background. Hard to find, but not impossible, if you knew where to look.
They'd spent the past half hour assiduously searching the skies for such a sign. And now, at last, they had something.
Lanik stared up at the computer-mapped images of the star-field and considered. They knew there was a stealth ship out there, and they knew where it was. That was a bonus, but it wasn't much. If he ignored it, they might lose it again. If he did anything to reveal he knew about it, there was a chance it would hide better next time.
“Set the laser turrets to track the ship and aim secondary cannons,” ordered Lanik. “Then send a hail with the following message: This is Commander Cillian Lanik of the SAV Dauntless to the stealthed vessel. We know where you are, and we are ready to shoot if necessary. Please state your business.”
“Yes, sir,” said Dunn.
Sometimes the direct approach was the best.
A little less than a minute later, Dunn said, “We've got a reply.”
“Put it through to my console.”
On one of the displays, a woman's face appeared. Her black hair was scraped back and stood out against a featureless, off-white background. She cocked her head, speaking in a polished accent: “That wasn't very friendly, Commander Lanik.” She offered a brief smile before continuing, “I'm Operative Serafin, SIS. Here's my verification. Could we speak privately?”
SIS: The Solar Intelligence Service. Something inside Lanik went cold. “Of course,” he said, then ordered, “Pipe the call to my office, security band one.”
“Yes, sir,” said Dunn.
In his office, Lanik sat down, extended his tablet and stood it up on the table in front of him. After a second or so of encryption protocols chewing their way through the feed, Agent Serafin appeared again.
“Is Captain Hanson not aboard?” she asked.
“No, he's on the Afanc. As I understand it, he's run into some trouble. We're waiting for his call so we can extract him and his team.”
“I see. Perhaps that makes things easier.”
“Pardon?”
Operative Serafin smiled briefly. “I won't bullshit you. I know a lot about your career. I know why you got transferred to a scout frigate on the far edge of human territory. And it seems to me that your motives were entirely honourable. You stood up to corruption, and were swept aside by it. The same can't be said for Captain Hanson. So, since I do have to communicate directly, I feel more comfortable telling you than him.”
She paused for a moment, presumably hoping Lanik would ask her to continue. He said nothing, though if this threw her off balance, she didn't give it away when she went on:
“Your orders from Admiral Chang have been rescinded. The datachip containing the data about Ancient Technology is to be returned. There is an arrest warrant for the entire command staff of the Dauntless, you included, plus all your passengers: Yilva Vissin Avanni, Agatha Neruda, and Srak. All have lethal force authorised.”
Something tugged at Lanik's gut, a feeling he couldn't quite classify, an emotion between relief that this cockeyed adventure was over, and worry about what might happen. He let the feeling live for a moment before stifling it. There was the sensible choice – and the only sensible choice he could see was to give in.
Except …
“If you try to arrest them, it could cause a lot of damage.”
“Yes, that was my thought as well. With the mercenaries you have on board, a direct confrontation is likely to lead to a fight. Bloodshed is not what I'm looking for. I want to make this as safe as possible for everyone. Then, when we're all back at Sol, we can sort this mess out, smooth over the diplomatic difficulties, and investigate Captain Hanson's concerns properly. So, now you know I'm here, I could use your help.”
The cold feeling hadn't gone away. Lanik stalled: “I was half-expecting you to offer me a reduction in my charges, should there be any.”
“No,” said Serafin. “You and I both know you would never accept such a bribe anyway. I know you trust the rule of law, and you are right to do so: If you've done nothing wrong, but simply obeyed the orders of your Captain and Admiral Chang, then you won't face any punishment. The rest of your crew mates will be treated just as fairly.”
Lanik was silent for some time. He supposed there was nothing he could do at this point but hear her out. “What do you want me to do?”
“First, try and find the datachip in Yilva's quarters.”
Chapter 27: Shrapnel
Hanson crouched to the right of the door, clutched his weapon and braced himself. A few seconds later another bang came, like a giant's fist punc
hing the door from the outside. More smoke billowed in from the gaps between the door and the walls, and yet still the door held. That was number five. He'd timed the space between the detonations: Close to three minutes. Whatever charges the Glaber were using took a lot of time to set up – in part, he supposed, because they had to clear the chamber on the far side before each detonation.
It helped that the door was clearly built to take a lot of punishment.
Now where was that backup?
He counted off another three minutes. Still no sign of them.
Another explosion hit the door. This time, it split down the middle, the two sides peeling back like foil. Clouds of thick black smoke vomited from the outside, obscuring the other side entirely.
Hanson readied his weapon, waiting for the moment he saw movement. Already he could smell the bitter tang of burning.
A thunderclap sound came from straight ahead, and something outside that Hanson couldn't see exploded. A few moments later, Agatha fired again. One of the peeled-back edges of the door caught the blast and fragmented into shrapnel.
A grenade bounced in from outside – Agatha shot it before it got too close. As the smoke cleared, Srak's pistols went off three times in quick succession.
Then Hanson realised he could hear the sound of gunfire outside. More seemed to be raining down on them. Soon it was overlaid with the signature crack of laser pistols, and followed by Glaber snarling.
Agatha had stopped firing. She looked over at Hanson and shrugged. Srak glanced over the top, fired a single shot, then ducked down again.
A few seconds later there came a loud but oddly calm voice from outside, like a recording of speech with the volume turned up: “Captain Hanson, is that you?”
Then Hanson realised. “Yes, Bloodtooth, it's us!”
“We have dealt with the vermin.”
“Weapons down,” Hanson ordered his team, then called to Bloodtooth: “Come in, we won't shoot you.”
“Ensure you don't.”
A trail of Albascene floated single file into the room, their effector fields glowing faintly against the floor. Ten in all. Some had suits smeared with blood; all had suits bristling with weapons. The one in the lead had a couple of lines of serrated spikes down its middle segment.
“Hello, Bloodtooth,” said Hanson. “It's good to see you again.”
“I can not agree,” said Bloodtooth. It floated past them towards the intact stasis pod. “This is the evidence?” it said, moving up to the oval window.
Hanson stepped out from behind his cover and walked across the room towards Bloodtooth. Bits and pieces of the destroyed pod ground under his feet. “That's it,” he said. “A fast-grown clone of a human, programmed for absolute loyalty.”
Bloodtooth's top two section rotated in different directions for a moment. “Take it,” it ordered the other Albascene. Three of them came forwards, and gripping it with their effector fields, tore the pod free of its connection to the floor and carried it out of the door.
Hanson watched it go. He wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea of giving it to the Albascene of Unity, but there wasn't much he could do. Perhaps, he though, he should have destroyed beforehand it like the empty pod. He picked one of the pieces of shrapnel up from the floor and turned it over in his hand.
Then he noticed there was a tiny plaque with something engraved on it. A six-digit number followed by the letters IO. He pocketed it.
“Thank you for your help. It pleases me to see a human honour a promise,” said Bloodtooth. “Now, tell me why we should not kill you immediately.”
Hanson stared at it. He realised that was the problem. Albascene weapons were in their suits. They didn't need to raise a gun. They could aim at you without you ever knowing. With all the Albascene present, they could kill his entire team in one shot – maybe two or three in Srak's case.
“You just said I honoured my promise,” Hanson said.
“Do you think that is enough?” replied Bloodtooth. “Such is to be expected from every civilised creature. Alone, it does not warrant life.”
“What have we done to deserve death, then?” said Hanson.
“Because of your actions, the Shrikes and Sweetblade are now at war with one another. The truce has failed. The order of the Afanc has been disrupted. And do not pretend that you did this solely out of honour. You did it to survive.”
Hanson studied the Albascene silently for a few seconds. “The order of the Afanc is important to you.”
“It is to every civilised creature.”
“And justice is also important.”
“It is.”
“Had we done nothing,” Hanson said, “You blamed Sweetblade for the murder of your people. That would have been injustice, wouldn't it? And perhaps it would have led to the collapse of the truce anyway. We've shown you the true culprits. And perhaps, after this, you will be able to restore the order of the Afanc.”
Bloodtooth's upper segmented turned, as if it were looking at Hanson's entire team. “Leave this place,” it said at last. “And do not return. If we meet again, we will be enemies.”
“Thank you,” Hanson said quietly. Then, to his team, “Come on, let's go.”
Chapter 28: Black Cat
As Lanik stepped out of Yilva's quarters, it occurred to him that hearing Operative Serafin out had at some point turned into helping her. Obeying orders had turned into subterfuge. He took the datachip out of his pocket and looked into its milky, crystalline depths.
Did this thing really hold the fate of the entire galaxy?
Well, a single sentence – the right codeword in the right place – could change the outcome of a war. And this thing was rather bigger than a sentence or a codeword.
If it was what the captain and Yilva said, then giving it to Serafin could ruin everything.
And yet, the codes Serafin had sent were genuine. The orders and the arrest warrants had come from the highest levels available. Officers couldn't go running off on a hunch at every opportunity.
Lanik swung on his heels, turned away from the shuttlebay and towards his own office, running through the newly formed idea in his head. It would take longer, but any delay could be excused as time he spent searching for the datachip anyway.
In his office, he gathered a second empty datachip from his desk, extended his tablet, and plugged in both datachips. From the original, he copied the first and final 100 pages of data, then pasted them into the second. To fill out the page count, he pasted the couple of pages over and over again repeatedly.
Serafin would almost certainly glance through the chip. Even if she trusted Lanik, she'd want to make sure. And since Yilva had recorded onto a normal datachip in the first place, there would be not other way to distinguish them.
Still subterfuge. But this way he would be able to trust himself with the original. If all went well, he could explain his caution when they all got back to Sol.
And, he thought, as he left his office and headed towards the shuttlebay, they would be going back to Sol. That part was definite.
He'd worked out that part of plan with Serafin: The shuttle would dock with the Dauntless as normal, but the shuttle bay would be depressurised. Hanson and the others would be arrested formally then, and told to use the visual feed to put down their weapons and take off their armour. They would exit unarmed in one of the inflatable air bubbles stored in the shuttle, where they could be arrested properly.
Another lie Serafin had come up with: Agatha and Srak would be told they could go free with payment for the full mission. They were mercenaries, and couldn't be expected to remain loyal. Only afterwards would they be arrested.
Lanik reached the shuttle bay and settled himself in the shuttle alone. He sat for a moment at the controls, thinking things through again, then activated the airlock and took the shuttle out of the Dauntless.
Serafin's ship, the Black Cat, was still operating under stealth. It remained where they could track it only out of courtesy. Being a top-end SIS
ship, filled to the brim with weapons and expert systems, it could quite easily hold its own with the Dauntless, even if was a tenth the size with only Operative Serafin herself aboard.
It wasn't until the shuttle was almost on top of it that Lanik could make out the shape of the Black Cat, and even then it was difficult. It was shaped a little like an arrowhead. Its hull composed and angular plates, almost perfect mirrors that reflected the star-field around it.
When he was close enough, it transmitted co-ordinates by tight-beam laser to the shuttle, calling it in to a nearly invisible port near the aft. The hull reflected the blackness of space. The port itself was pitch black. There was no way Lanik could have guided the shuttle in without the co-ordinates.
But at last he was in. He could only tell because there were no stars visible except behind him. These too vanished as the door closed. Only then did the lights come up.
He found himself in a chrome-lined bay only slightly bigger than the shuttle itself – a couple of feet separated him from the walls in each direction. He brought the shuttle down as the bay re-pressurised, then opened the doors.
When he stepped out of the shuttle, he saw a door had opened near the front of the bay. He hadn't noticed it before. From the door, Operative Serafin stepped. She was tall – nearly as tall as him – and dressed in something in tasteful shades of grey that made Navy standard uniforms look gaudy and frayed by comparison. In her left hand, she held a contracted tablet like a glass slide between her index and middle fingers. “Commander Lanik,” she said, saluting. “Good to have you aboard, even if only for a moment.”
Lanik saluted her back. “Operative Serafin.”
“Do you have the datachip?”
Lanik took the faked datachip from his pocket and held it up. Serafin moved around the shuttle, brushing her tablet with her thumb to extend it. When she reached him, it was at full size. She plugged the datachip into the tablet and looked at the results on the screen.