“What are we looking at here, Ricket?”
“The Minian’s fluctuating weight log is on the left. I’ve filtered the output of the report—only showing alterations of high tonnage. On the right is the corresponding log of flight bay ingresses and egresses, and all deliveries. Again, it’s filtered down to show only high tonnage amounts.” Ricket scrolled through the list—thousands and thousands of entries. Then several color coded red lines came into view.
“What are those?” Jason asked.
“This is when the discrepancies started … about three and a half years ago.”
Jason watched as more and more red lines of text appeared. “Stop on that one there.” He read the text, then said, “Those four lines, alone, amount to over two thousand tons removed from the Minian.”
“That is correct, Captain. And as you can see, there are no corresponding log entries to explain what or why.”
Jason pursed his lips and rubbed the scruff on his chin. “Can you determine, specifically, where the weight was removed from?”
Ricket smiled. “Good question, Captain. The answer is yes.” Ricket brought up an image. “From a mid-ship compartment on Deck 17.”
Jason searched his memory. “That part of the Minian was off-limits … closed off.” He continued to study the image, studying what looked like any other medium-sized hold area on the ship. It was empty. “So we have no idea what was in there … stolen from there?”
Ricket zoomed in on a small object in the corner of the compartment.
“I know what that is,” Mollie said. “It’s part of a droid. An arm segment. Teardrop has something similar.”
Ricket smiled toward Mollie. “She is correct, Captain. The object is a Caldurian combat droid’s upper arm segment.”
“Why is it black?” Orion asked. “I thought Teardrop was all white?”
“The technology on this droid would have been years—many years—older than Teardrop and Dewdrop. With that said, I suspect droids in the hold were still highly advanced, combat ready, and approximately the same size and weight as the newer versions. That fact is important.”
“Why’s that?” Jason asked.
Ricket smiled, obviously pleased with himself. “Knowing that, we can make the assumption the hold was used as a storage location for many of those out-of-date droids. And we can estimate how many droids were stolen. From this hold alone … approximately two thousand.”
Everyone stared at Ricket in silence.
“There are five more holds on this level, with miscellaneous broken droid parts strewn around inside them. At a minimum, we are looking at ten thousand droids that have been pilfered.”
Jason felt a cool chill running down his back. Ricket’s findings were not good. He saw Sergeant Major Gail Stone shaking her head, causing several strands of her long platinum hair to fall free from behind her ear and hang over her eyes.
“What is it, Master Sergeant?”
Gail Stone directed her question toward Ricket. “Do the missing droids account for all the weight discrepancies?”
“No, Master Sergeant, not by any close measure. I took it upon myself to dispatch security droids to all unexplored ship compartments, and provide me with a detailed accounting of what, and how many, items were found within them, including partial or broken items, such as droid arm segments.”
“I don’t think we want to hear this,” Billy said.
“Shush,” Orion said. “Go on, Ricket.”
“There are various plasma weapons—some similar, but not as advanced as our multi-guns; there are spacecraft parts—for example, for our shuttle, drone, and manned fighters; even parts used to construct DeckPorts.”
“How about phase synthesizers?” Bristol asked with alarm.
“No … I do not suspect phase synthesizers, or any parts associated with the manufacture of synthesizers, were compromised.”
“That’s good—we hand over that technology and it’s game over, lights out,” Bristol said.
“Why is that?” Hanna asked.
“Onboard phase synthesizers are what make DeckPorts work, and JIT munitions, and weaponry. But, most important, the ability of a vessel to phase-shift thousands of miles across space.”
“It’s what separates the technical supremacy of the vessels of Star Watch from the rest of the U.S. fleet,” Jason said. “I’ve always kept a tight grip on that technology. As fleet Omni, I’ve imposed rigid guidelines on who has access to that technology. A growing sore point with the rest of fleet command, to be sure, who ardently believe all fleet vessels should be equipped with the same Caldurian tech.”
“Why don’t they simply copy what’s on the Minian, and the other Caldurian ships?” Hanna asked.
“There are only two, maybe three of us who have that capability—or smarts—to do such a thing. Even with a phase synthesizer sitting right in front of them,” Bristol added. “Me, Ricket, and maybe Captain Granger … though he’s doubtful.”
“So those weapons and droids, and God knows what else, are now in the hands of who?” Leon asked.
“The Blues and, unfortunately now, the Sahhrain.” The answer came from Prince Aqeel. He entered the conference room, wearing a Shadick and looking, for the first time, perfectly healthy. He gestured toward an open seat next to Ricket.
Jason nodded.
The prince sat and said, “I am Blues. My loyalty is to my people first. I’ve known of the reestablishment of relations between Blues and the Sahhrain for some time. Although wary at first, my people believed our Dacci brethren were sincere in their efforts to bring our warring people together again. We had defeated them and, with the help of the U.S. fleet, maintained a military hold on the entire system. What did we have to lose by thawing relations?”
More than a few at the table audibly scoffed.
“Did you know about the buildup—that huge Sahhrain fleet we witnessed?” Orion asked.
He hesitated. “Not exactly. I knew the Blues were building their own assets. Obviously space stations, and, more recently, our own warships. That aspect was kept secret. I did not know we assisted the Sahhrain in building a power fleet. I do not have access to all high-level decision-making.”
“So, thanks to the Blues … the Sahhrain have taken the ball and run with it,” Jason said. “The price paid for that was the Capital City massacre. That, and the Sahhrain are now poised to not only conquer the Blues, but probably attempt a war with the Alliance and the U.S. fleet.”
The prince looked down at the table and slowly nodded.
“And because of some asshole traitor among our own ranks, incredible technology—droids, weapons, and who knows what else, has flowed into the hands of the Sahhrain. All thanks to the Blues,” Leon said.
Jason broke the silence. “Where is my daughter? Where is Boomer?”
The prince looked up and held Jason’s stare. “My last memories on Harpaign were of the Sahhrain attacking. The warship bombarding the arena … the battlefield. I saw Boomer and instructed her to retrieve the Goldwon effigy, located within the nearly destroyed arena. It wasn’t long after that when I was struck down. Young Master Tahhrim Dol, Boomer, would have been up against … insurmountable odds. I am sorry,” he said, looking at Mollie with eyes full of sympathy, “but I do not see how she could have survived.”
“Well, she did,” Mollie said.
“Let’s assume she’s alive. Where would she go?” Jason asked.
“Her rucksack had instructions, but she would need help. If there were others left alive—perhaps Drom, or even an elder—they would head to Loma City.”
“Why is that?”
“It would be a safe refuge—hidden and nearly impossible to find. Even tracking sensors are useless in that area. If she is still alive, she has already been dispatched on a quest. That was discussed by us in recent days. The winner of the Goldwon was to gather a small team and find the three remaining wons. The elders, the Council of One, were opposed to reunification with the Sahhrain. They would
rapidly push for locating the other wons—thereby disrupting any chance for the return of Rom Dasticon.”
Jason was being hailed. He’d left explicit instructions on the bridge that he did not want to be disturbed.
“What is it, Seaman Gordon?”
“You have two holding inbound communiqués, sir. One’s Admiral Stark, Captain. He insists you take his communiqué. And Captain, there’s something else … I don’t know if I was supposed to see it, but there is a high-command warrant out for your arrest.”
“Terrific … and what’s the other one?”
“From Jhardon, Princess Caparri, sir.”
Jason’s mind was filled with an image of Dira’s face. Oh no … Was she going to finally do it … do what he feared more than anything? Would this be the day she told him she wanted a divorce? That she’s going to put an end to their marriage?
“Tell the princess I’ll have to get back to her … patch in the Admiral, Seaman.”
Chapter 26
He cut his NanoCom connection to Seaman Gordon. The conference room went quiet and all eyes held fast on Jason.
“What’s wrong?” Orion asked.
“Seems there’s a warrant out for my arrest, courtesy of Admiral Stark.”
“On what charge?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“You think Stark’s behind the selling-off of our weapons to the Blues?” Billy asked.
“I won’t know until I talk to him.”
“You think that’s wise … to talk to him before we have any proof?” Leon asked, prompting several heads to nod assent around the table.
Jason thought about his predicament. He was in trouble, but that didn’t mean his crew was too. “Look … I’m not surrendering to the admiral at this time. Not until I’ve found Boomer. With that said, all of you need to return to the Sol System, in the Parcical. I’ll take the Stellar—she’s not a fleet vessel.”
“I’m staying with you, Dad.”
Jason nodded.
Billy was smiling, which must have been contagious, because the same smile spread across the other faces.
Jason shook his head, already knowing what was coming. “Look, what I’m doing is tantamount to going AWOL; guilty or not, running off against fleet orders is a court-martial offense. You need to think of your careers.”
Leon and Hanna looked first toward each other, then Leon said, “Um … we’re private contractors. I’ve been on the run before. We’re with you, Captain.”
“I may not be as wealthy as you are, but I still could have retired ten years ago. I was there at the start … back on The Lilly. I might as well see where things end up,” Billy said.
“Goes the same for me,” Orion added.
“Me too,” Rizzo said.
Jason wasn’t surprised. But some there hadn’t been around from the start. “Master Sergeant … Gail …”
She cut him off. “I’ve been on your bridge for five years. You really want to insult me at this point?” she asked, looking offended.
Jason shook his head. “Gunny, have several shuttles prepped for departure. There’s close to two hundred crew, including Sharks, on board the Parcical. Find a friendly world nearby, where we can start unloading our people. We’ll instruct the fleet later where they are located.”
“Will you make the unloading voluntary?”
Jason didn’t answer for several moments. The truth was, something very wrong was going on—having some semblance of a crew on board could be the difference between future success or failure. He nodded assent. “Voluntary.”
* * *
Jason sat in the command chair, mentally preparing himself for his conversation with the admiral.
“I’ve given the order for the shuttles to be powered down,” Orion said.
“Still no volunteers?” Jason asked.
“Not a one.”
“Seaman Gordon, do you have an open channel to Liberty Station yet?”
“Yes, Captain. And Admiral Stark is waiting.”
“Put him up on the display.”
The Parcical’s overhead three-hundred-and-sixty-degree 3D display, currently showing the open space around the ship, suddenly segmented and a new forward video feed, showing Admiral Stark, appeared. Gone now was his typical, painted-on, over-sized smile. His expression—an attempt to appear stern—came across instead as one being more righteous, or pompous, than anything else.
“Admiral Stark,” Jason said, devoid of all friendliness.
“Omni Reynolds. Were you not notified, more than three hours ago, of my need to speak with you?”
“I was busy. But since you have my full attention now, I suggest you make the best of it.”
Stark, clearly not accustomed to being spoken to in such an abrupt manner, made no attempt to hide his irritation. “Your immediate return to Sol System and Liberty Station is demanded …”
“Uh huh. Last I checked, Admiral, I don’t report to you.”
“I’m sure you understand that no one is above the law. Even someone who’s appointed himself the fleet Omni.”
“What offense do you think I’ve committed?”
“This is a conversation that should be carried out on private comms.”
“You mean private comms, sir,” Jason corrected the admiral.
“Sir.”
“Speak freely, Stark. I want my bridge crew to hear this too.”
The admiral shifted in his chair before speaking again. “Evidence has been presented—irrefutable evidence I might add—that connects you personally to a number of illegal acts; the least of which is the sale of contraband. Fleet technology—advanced weaponry—the list goes on and on. I can see by the expression on your face you already know what I’m referring to.”
Jason did know, and was only surprised to hear the admiral was aware of it too, since he had just learned of the ransacking of the Minian’s holds, and possibly other ships’ holds too.
“Your name is literally all over this, Omni Reynolds,” Stark said, not even attempting to rein in his condescending smile.
“What does that mean … my name?”
The admiral let out a long breath, blinked, and slowly opened his eyes wide, as if the mere act of explaining was burdensome. “Much can be done to doctor AI logs. Even security video feeds in this day and age are easily manipulated. But items impossible to change are command-level, log instruction entries. From what I’ve been told, any modifications to the AI logs require a verifiable, corresponding, signature. The AI verifies its authenticity—to a degree, I’m told, that simply cannot be circumvented. The thefts on board fleet assets took place at specific times and locations. The AI system and security logs were manipulated to hide that fact. Guess what? The manipulated logs match identically with the theft timeframes and ship compartment locations. Again, your name is all over these. It took a crack technical team to find the log entries, which were expertly hidden I might add, but they were found just the same.”
Jason felt perspiration forming on his brow. He wasn’t guilty but at this point he probably looked it. He needed Ricket’s help to dig through the data. As if on cue, Ricket appeared at his side.
“What the admiral is saying is true, Captain.”
The all-knowing admiral nodded in response.
“What exactly does the log signature say?” Jason asked.
“This is getting embarrassing, Omni Reynolds. Embarrassing for you. Let’s dispense with the—”
Jason cut him off. “Humor me.”
Someone handed the admiral a virtual notebook and he read, verbatim, what it said: “U.S. fleet—Executive Command Level Personnel. Crew: Reynolds.” He looked back up. “There is no Omni classification, as far as the AI is concerned. And, as you know, Executive Command Level … well, that is Admiralty. Added to that, you are indeed crew: Reynolds, yes?” The admiral looked up, his brows arched high, questioning.
Jason sat back and stared at Admiral Stark in silence.
“If I may … that is n
ot entirely true, Admiral,” Ricket interjected.
Jason had already made the other connection when Ricket continued with, “The military command position of General also holds the Executive Command Level Personnel designation.”
Oh shit. What the hell has Brian been up to?
Sudden comprehension registered on the admiral’s stunned face as well. Jason guessed it was due to his dashed hopes of an immediate rise in rank to the level of fleet Omni.
“There is no clear evidence that General Reynolds had anything to do with those thefts. Personally, I believe you are grasping; and, quite frankly, I am disappointed you would stoop to the level of throwing your own brother under the proverbial bus …”
“Watch yourself, Admiral! I may be a lot of things … but a thief is not one of them. Why would I pilfer from fleet assets? Money? I have more than I could spend in three lifetimes.”
“You—the Parcical and her crew—need to return to Liberty Station at once. If what you are telling me is true, well … we’ll conduct a thorough investigation.”
“I’m glad to hear that. And I’ll make sure that you do exactly that. But as for me and the Parcical returning to Liberty Station now—that’s not going to happen just yet.”
“There is an active warrant out for your immediate arrest, Omni Reynolds—”
“Be quiet and listen to me! This is far bigger than the pilfering of droids and weapons. The Blues and the Sahhrain have been covertly working together for several years now. Did you know that? All those construction contracts offered to the Blues for over five years now—the incredible technology that’s been transferred, handed over to them, to build advanced space stations, and, more recently, warships. Guess what? That same technology also went directly to the Sahhrain. Listen carefully, Stark, they have amassed a fleet of warships—”
“Who? Who has amassed a fleet? You mean the Blues?”
“It may have started out that way, but then turned to a covert, joint Blues and Sahhrain endeavor. What we personally witnessed were many thousands of advanced warships, at the ready, in the Dacci system. Those warships were all Sahhrain built.”
Boomer (Star Watch Book 3) Page 15