by Jay Allan
She could hear sounds coming from below her, and a few second later, her boots hit the hard stone floor at the bottom of the shaft. She’d set the speed on the winch herself, and as the pain shot up her legs, she wished she’d have been a bit less impatient. She stumbled a step or two, and then she reached across her chest and waist, unhooking herself from the harness.
“Andi…come over here now. We’ve found something. Something amazing.”
She turned and raced toward Ellia. The Hegemony Master was standing about six meters away, and she was gesturing toward one end of the cavern.
The cave was massive, and Andi could immediately see the ruins of ancient imperial buildings. The planet had been bombarded from space, by huge mass drivers or directed meteors, two imperial capabilities that still eluded the Rim’s technology. There had been massive tremors and entire geological features had been obliterated or transformed. Andi realized that everything she was seeing had once been on the surface. The location matched the clues they had well enough to spark her hopes, and now that she could see the actual ruins, a burst of excitement took her.
She walked toward Ellia, looking all around as she did. The cavern was dark, lit only by the portable lighting her people had brought down. Save for an eerie glow coming from an opening in the rock wall…the one to which her friend was pointing.
“What did you find?”
“I think we may have found what we’re looking for, Andi. And more than that, maybe.”
Andi had been reluctant to send Ellia and her people down first. She’d always been a ‘lead from the front’ sort. But she’d been up to her neck in analyzing scanner data on the rest of the planet, trying to decide where to go next, assuming the current location turned out to be as much a waste of time as the others had been.
Which didn’t seem to be the case, considering the excitement in Ellia’s voice.
“More? What do you mean?”
“Andi…you spent a lot of time out here, explored a lot of old imperial ruins, right?”
“My share…certainly. Why?”
“Did you ever find an old imperial AI that was still operational?”
“AI? I’m not sure what you mean. We definitely ran into a few defense systems that were still partially operational. But no, not a full-blown AI. Why?” Andi could see Ellia was excited about whatever it was she had found.
“I think this building…” She gestured toward the opening with the eerie light. “…was the sector base for the imperial intelligence service. Most of it is a wreck, but we may have gotten lucky. The AI in there is still operational…at least partly. A lot of its databases are damaged or destroyed, but it’s still got a lot of information, Andi, on the struggle against the Highborn…and a lot of imperial history, too. It’s an amazing discovery. I can’t overstate the importance of what we’ve found here.”
“The only important thing right now is to find a way to defeat the Highborn. Nothing else really matters.” Andi had always had an interest in knowledge for its own sake. That was one thing that set her apart from the other Badlands prospectors, who were mostly rough and tumble sorts interested only in finding bits and pieces of tech they could sell. Andi had always been able to match her greed against any other prospector’s, at least in her younger days, but she’d at least appreciated the information her people uncovered for its own sake.
She might have still felt that way, been more intrigued by the prospect of filling in some blanks about Rim history, if the situation had been less dire. But she was a warrior first, and defeating the enemy was all she cared about at that moment. She’d always found the ability of academic sorts to lose themselves in knowledge for its own sake, despite the threats and dangers lurking around them, a bit curious.
She turned around and looked back the way she had come. Vig was climbing out of the harness just as her eyes landed on him. “Vig, send a message up. We’ve got some kind of computer system, and that means we need Sy down here now.” Ellia was probably the most educated member of her crew, but Sy Merrick was a master at handling computers and AIs, an accomplished programmer and hacker, and the best bet they had to truly figure out any partially functional imperial system.
“You got it, Andi.”
She turned and looked at Ellia. So, let’s go take a look at whatever it is you’ve found.”
* * *
“My designation is A217-380PRM. I am a level seven dedicated intelligence unit.” The High Imperial accent of the machine’s voice made it slightly difficult to understand.
Andi stood stone still, staring at the machine in front of her with pure shock. Ellia hadn’t overestimated what she had found. The system was by far the best-preserved bit of imperial tech she’d ever seen, save perhaps for Colossus. But even the great battleship’s computing systems had been entirely replaced by Hegemony and Confederation units.
“What is your purpose?” Andi had always imagined finding a still-functional AI one day, but the fact that she had to fumble for what to say to it, confirmed that she’d never really believed it would happen.
“I have served multiple functions, but primarily, I am a data collating and retrieval unit. My purpose is to act in a custodial manner with my assigned data files. Unfortunately, many of my storage units have been damaged, so irreparably so.”
“What data do you possess?”
“I have active files on multiple intelligence operations, as well as a broad overview of imperial history.”
“What do you know of the Highborn?” Andi kept looking behind her, waiting for Sy to arrive. Her friend was good, but she’d never seen anything like the unit they had found. Andi was asking questions, slowly moving toward what she really wanted. She kept expecting the unit to refuse, for some security protocols to assert themselves, but the computer continued to answer her questions.
Maybe the security protocols were damaged…that would be a lucky break.
“The Highborn were the result of an ill-fated scientific experiment. While the program was not authorized by imperial authorities, its initial purpose was to halt the decline in the empire’s economic, intellectual, and physical conditions. Unfortunately, the beings known as the ‘Highborn’ quickly rebelled against human authority, and the struggle to defeat them ultimately hastened the decline already in progress.”
“What happened to the Highborn?”
“They were defeated and driven from imperial space. This operation took a number of years, and the damage done to an already weakened empire proved to be fatal. The final collapse began four years after the expulsion of the Highborn, and it continued unabated. Unfortunately, this world lost all contact with other Imperial systems after the final fighting here, and as such, my own data on the empire ends with the battles fought here.”
Andi found herself intrigued, part of her wishing she had time to listen to the machine lecture about imperial history. But she didn’t have that time. She didn’t have any time.
“How were the Highborn driven out of the empire?”
“Numerous conventional battles were fought, however the Highborn were able to gain control over a significant plurality of imperial naval strength, not enough to gain control, but sufficient to ward off efforts to defeat them. Something of a stalemate resulted. This remained the case for a number of years, until Project Nigrum Mortem was initiated.”
“Nigrum Mortem?” Andi knew an engineered virus had been employed, but this was the first she’d heard a name attached to it. “What was that?”
“The Nigrum Mortem virus was an engineered organism created specifically for the purpose of destroying the Highborn. It was created by a team researching seized documentation on the program that created the Highborn themselves. The microorganism specifically targets certain modifications in genetic material. The virus is harmless to unmodified humans, who act as carriers once infected but suffer no ill effects.”
“And to the Highborn?”
“The Nigrum Mortem virus has a one hundred percent mortality r
ate against all infected Highborn. There is a latency period after infection, but once the disease become active, death is inevitable, and by all accounts, extremely painful.”
Andi had been hopeful she was on the trail of a weapon that could turn the tide against the enemy. But one hundred percent mortality? That was beyond her wildest expectations. “One hundred percent?”
“Yes. The virus is extremely contagious. In all reported instances of infection within a group of Highborn, the virus proved without exception to be fatal.”
“Are there any remaining live samples of the virus?”
“No, not according to any information I possess. A large percentage of the imperial population became carriers, but secondary contagion rates are below one percent in non-augmented human subjects. It is unlikely that any descendants of imperial survivors would still carry the organism, and without a human host, the virus dies within a matter of weeks. Of course, this analysis is based on my own dataset, which is limited. I possess no information on the status of the balance of the empire following the attacks that ultimately rendered this planet lifeless.”
Andi shook her head. She hadn’t really expected to find a vial of the stuff sitting on a table somewhere, but if she’d come so far only to return empty handed…
“We need the virus. The Highborn have returned.” She didn’t know what such an appeal would achieve with the AI. The unit was obviously damaged, but equally without a doubt, it remained the most highly functional imperial computer system she’d ever seen. And she was desperate.
“My data banks contain 97.8% of the process for creating the organism. Unfortunately, the balance of the formula has been lost. The base unit is the common influenza virus. It should be possible to recreate the missing steps with a moderate amount of experimentation.”
Andi felt her stomach tense, just as Sy Merrick stepped into the room. It was good news, Andi realized, another step closer to a superweapon against the Highborn. But each effort she made seemed only to lead to another. And she was running out of time.
“Sy, we’ve got to take this AI with us. Somehow. We need the unit and all the still-functional data banks…and we’ll need to connect it to Pegasus’s power supply. We’ll empty out the hold…that should give us enough room. I know this is a big job, Sy, but if anybody here can do it, it’s you. I’ll send up for Lex, too. I know the two of you can handle this. I know it, old friend.”
She didn’t know it, not even close. But she needed the best Sy could give and discouraging her friend didn’t seem the right way to go.
“I’ll try, Andi. I’ll try…” Andi chose to ignore the doubt choking Sy’s words.
Chapter Twenty-Four
110,000 Kilometers from Fortress Striker
Vasa Denaris System
Year 328 AC (After the Cataclysm)
Reg sat and stared at her comm unit, as though it had some power to wash away her confusion, to provide clarity where there was only torment and uncertainty. She’d hardly been listening to her enemy’s taunts…but the story about the Academy wretched her focus from her controls and almost tore the breath from her body.
Who could know that? How could the Highborn possibly know about that story?
It had to be Stockton out there…but she still found it almost impossible to believe. She’d spoken at his memorial service, mourned him dead for five years, torn a bloody swath of vengeance for his death through the ranks of the Highborn wings.
Now, she faced the possibility that Stockton was still alive, and even harder to imagine, that he’d been helping the enemy all this time? No, that can’t be…
But it was true, and she knew it. She’d seen the Collars taken from the bodies of Thralls. The Pact didn’t have a lot of enemy equipment to study, and almost none in working order, but the idea that the Highborn were able to control the thoughts and enforce the obedience of enslaved humans had become more or less accepted as fact. Reg hadn’t had too hard a time believing that in abstract, but as she sat there, she realized she’d never thought of it in specific terms…and never involving anyone like Jake Stockton. He’d been her hero even before he’d been her mentor. He was the legend of the fighter corps, one of the Confederation’s greatest heroes. The idea that he could be compelled to serve the enemy sickened her.
“Admiral Stockton…” She found it difficult even to speak his name. She’d ached for his loss, missed his presence every time she’d climbed into her fighter. “…how…”
“There is no time for that now, Reg. Those routines I sent you, they’re real. And there’s no telling how long it will be before the Highborn realize what happened and change them. You have to lead your people in, now.”
Even as Stockton spoke, she saw how deep inside the enemy formation he was. She believed him, though she still couldn’t quite reconcile with it all, but now she realized how unlikely it was that he could escape. He’d sent too many communications to her ship. Someone on the enemy side was bound to notice what was going on.
That only made her own duty that much more urgent.
“Jake…”
“Go, Reg. I left you in charge of the wings…don’t let me down. I’ll be fine. Just do what you have to do.”
She heard his words, and she knew she didn’t have a choice. But his statement that he would be ‘fine’ was just about the worst lie she’d ever heard.
“All wings, download program C-7 into your targeting computers.”
Her comm was almost silent. She’d just ordered thousands of pilots to take action, and every one of them knew just what that entailed.
“Reg, are you sure…those routines…” Dirk Timmons was the first to answer directly, and he did so on a private line.
“Dirk…you’re just going to have to believe me. Those routines are real. Jake is still alive. He’s the one who sent them. I know I sound crazy, but you have to accept what I’m telling you.”
Silence. Then, simply, “Okay, Reg.”
Reg glanced down at the screen. She couldn’t go to Stockton’s aid—and from his tone, it was clear he didn’t expect any help, or even want it—but she couldn’t leave him out there. Timmons was one of Stockton’s closest friends, an obvious choice to send to his aid…but he was almost on the far side of the formation, out of position to reach Stockton in time.
Her eyes stopped abruptly. Olya Federov was closer…
She tapped the comm controls, opening a direct line to Federov. “Olya, listen to me. This is going to sound crazy, but Jake is alive. He’s out there, and he’s the one who sent us the enemy nav data. We’ve got to help him, and I can’t do it…I’ve got to take the wings in. You’re even closer than I am…” She paused. She was sending a pilot with even more experience and seniority than she had on a desperate mission to save a man everyone knew was dead. She knew it was the right move, but she found it difficult to actually speak the words.
Federov saved her the trouble of forcing through the rest of it.
“I’m on it, Reg. You worry about the main force…I’ll go get Jake.” Reg wasn’t sure if Federov really believed Stockton was out there, but she’d served with him since she’d been a member of the famed Blue Squadron under his command.
The only member of that legendary formation who was still alive, save perhaps Stockton himself.
Olya Federov would have charged into hell for a one percent chance Stockton was alive and in trouble. Reg felt a strange sense of relief, a calm that seemed misplaced in the midst of war and death and the whirlwind of emotions stirred at the possibility that Stockton had been alive these past five years.
She knew what she had to do. Her hand moved down, her fingers punching at her controls, feeding the routines into the targeting system. The she tapped the comm and said, “Alright, all units…get those routines in place and let’s go blast these bastards to hell!”
* * *
“Seb, you’ve got everything from red section starboard. That’s about eight thousand total strength. We’re getting hit in at lea
st fifty spots, so you’re going to have to stay alert, and move your forces around.” Bryan Rogan stood next to his second-in-command. Both the veteran Marine general, and his longtime comrade were clad in full body armor, and each of them carried heavy assault rifles. The fighting was already raging in at least a dozen sections of the great fortress, and Rogan could only guess at the numbers of troops the enemy had managed to push into Striker’s outer corridors and compartments.
“I’ve got it, General.” Sebastien Carruthers was the virtual image of the stereotypical Marine grunt, rough and unpolished, the very image of ‘blood and guts.’ But Rogan knew that was mostly illusion. Carruthers had come from a moderately well off Iron Belt family, and he’d gone directly from a private school into the Marine Academy. He’d never served a day in the Corps other than as an officer. He was extremely intelligent, educated, able to interact with the highest levels of Confederation society…but in battle he was almost indistinguishable from the hardest core grunt recruited out of some miserable slum and forged in battle. Rogan had trouble looking at his number two, and his friend, without seeing an illusory half-chewed cigar hanging from his mouth. “We’ll hold…whatever it takes.” The words summed up the essence of Sebastien Carruthers, and Rogan believed them completely.
“You’re damned right, old friend. I don’t know why these bastards want to try to take Striker, but we’re going to teach them better than to mess with the Marines!”
Rogan nodded once, a combination of a salute, best wishes—and though he didn’t like the idea, very possibly farewell—and he turned and set off down the long corridor. He had a pair of Marines with him, bodyguards of a sort, and present only because Tyler Barron had expressly ordered them to be. He was behind what passed for battle lines, but of course there were enemy troopships landing all over Striker, and it was almost impossible to guess from where the next threats would come. A force of invading Highborn troops could blast their way in almost anywhere.