by Tobias Roote
Having a momentary misgiving about their escape from Artis Prime, RIGA suddenly had new concerns. “Gossie, what do you think the chances are that we have become the prime target of the smugglers? The attacks we are experiencing are unprecedented, and there is little, or no evidence of them all being LEXON related.”
“You could be right. What concerns me is the increasing possibility of interception at all major hyperspace points. Our movements are being tracked and monitored. I’m not sure how, except they are getting closer to catching us. I am going to carry out a frequency scan at every level that my systems can measure, and trace anything that is anomalous to the ship and its contents. I will also scan you, and your effects. You might have picked up something on your travels that we haven’t noticed.”
The mention of hyperspace gave RIGA a sudden insight.
“Gossie, I want to change the jump landing point to the short option.” The mention of it had created a feeling about their arrival at Epsilon Gamma; their attackers had failed, would they anticipate her destination? Choosing the short option was extremely dangerous, it meant they would lurch into real space instead of the normal glide. There had been many fatalities before the right method of exiting hyperspace was finally discovered. When you came out at the short end, you created a solid wall effect where the impact of normal space was an almost physical obstruction. Using the glide system provided a safe exit, as the ship was slowed down over several thousand miles of empty space.
The jump coordinates were programmed into every ship galaxy-wide, and were specific to each departure or arrival point. The measures provided for a high degree of safety on main traffic routes. Each set of landing coordinates covered an area of space, well off the shipping lanes, where 99.9% of traffic landed between the middle, and the end of the designated area.
These glide paths were the only ones that were input into navigation systems, ensuring that all ships used the same area of space that could be maintained free of busy shipping. Going the short end would put them at least one thousand miles out of range of any interception, but could damage their ship on exit, leaving them at the mercy of their enemy. It was, therefore, a calculated risk. But a big one.
“Gossie, prepare burst transmission of the report to Epsilon Gamma Headquarters and prepare for an immediate evasion jump as we come out of hyperspace. If there is a reception committee, don’t wait for orders just send it.”
“What will you be doing?” Gossie asked sarcastically as she would already have her hands full dealing with a potentially crushed ship.
“I will deal with weapons and sensors. I want to know who these bastards are. If they try and stop us, I intend to go straight between them and collect their drive signatures on the way. If they’re hiding their ship code, then I will take what I can get.”
She imagined the scenario; two or three ships placed strategically either side and at the end of the landing zone, armed for immediate missile lock and ready to launch. They would fire a concerted salvo of missiles in a crossover grid that would leave her trapped within a sector of space with nowhere to run.
In the end, she was wrong. There were five ships.
The re-entry was harsh, even for her. RIGA felt the chair give way as the ship came close to a crushing breakup; the straps that held her, parted, and only her fast reactions averted disaster. As it was, the console buckled under the impact of her body folding around it. All the systems underneath her went off-line, but they weren’t essential to the immediate running of the ship.
Gossie ignored everything and concentrated on the plan. The AI altered course and accelerated at top speed, the drive redlining on the readout. In the space of ten seconds, they achieved the minimum required for another hyper-jump.
“WEAPONS ACTIVE,” RIGA confirmed, having got herself back into the damaged chair, immediately swinging around to manage the targeting console.
“TARGETING.” She monitored the inbound missiles. The closest were fourteen seconds away. The tiny courier ship would have already been astral dust if they had jumped in at the expected point of entry. Her first shots missed. They were still unstable from the re-entry and Gossie’s course changes.
“PREPARING TO JUMP, ten seconds...” the Ship AI announced.
“Damn, this is way too close, Gossie - they will hit before we are fully clear.”
“AGREED - JUMPING NOW!” Gossie announced ignoring all safety protocols and lifted the ship into hyperspace six seconds into the count.
Dammation! Those self-preservation algorithms were working overtime, RIGA thought as the wrench of the acceleration pulled her back into her chair, forcing her to let go of the firing mechanism, or break it off the console.
As the bulkheads twisted and groaned under the punishing high gravitational pulls, RIGA had visions of disintegrating and being spread all over the cosmos; particles re-entering normal space in all sections of the galaxy, to fly forever outward to the end of time.
Well, a slight exaggeration perhaps, the bulkhead did spring a few leaks, and the engines sounded tortured and several sensors went off-line, but nothing that couldn’t be fixed. They were suddenly back in hyperspace, and Gossie was dropping the engines down to idle speed to allow them to cool off. Coasting along gave them the opportunity to check the damage without additional stress.
As Gossie re-routed feeds from the sensors the monitor output came back on-line. The leaks sealed themselves. The interior coating, designed to expand and fill small holes, worked silently but effectively. It would hold until they space-docked.
The drive was the only issue. RIGA thought privately that it wouldn’t take another punishment like the last two. They needed a safe place to hole up while the drive was re-aligned. Perhaps one more gentle jump.
“Gossie, plot a course from wherever you sent us to the ECM Space-hub-420, as gently as you can, but don’t hang around. We seem to be flavour of the day out here.”
“Affirmative,” Gossie responded.
“What made you jump at six seconds?”
The AI sighed dramatically as she prepared to defend her actions.
“The lead missile was a type 45, a directional EMP with a proximity sensor. I calculated we had zero time as it was probably set to go off almost immediately, leaving us dead in space for the other missiles to take us out. My programming will not allow me to commit suicide, but I calculated we were already dead. Four seconds didn’t seem that important when taking everything into account. We jumped.”
RIGA smiled. Her friend was magnificent.
“Outstanding computation, Gossie! File that episode and consider it an integral part of our escape and evade protocols. Calculate how that can be achieved with less drive strain. Oh, and include the course change vectors, so that we can do a stress analysis. I think we may have need of some minor modifications to the ship when we dock.” RIGA smiled, pleased they had screwed the opposition, whoever they were.
The trip to the Empirum Covert Mission Space-hub 420 went without incident. As Gossie docked, they received an encrypted message from Epsilon Gamma transferred from the hyperspace relay at the station. It transmitted direction-less, and the antenna relay received multiple broadcasts, but only the ship that was the designated recipient would be able to collect the mail; a receipt signature would be transmitted back to the originating station giving the sender location, date and time of the intercept.
RIGA’s locator transponder was intentionally disabled even though it was against all PACT regulations. Bollida knew that, it was part of her covert mission status. He would see the repair log in the next download and would know where RIGA had been.
RIGA decided to organise the repairs and modifications before reading the message; then if it contained new orders she could respond immediately without conscience. First, she had an obligation to protect herself and her ship. It was unlikely there would be bounty hunters this far out, but she wasn’t taking any chances. While Gossie repaired and modified the ship, RIGA walked the corridors of the st
ation, armed and deadly.
Eventually, she returned to the ship. The AI was still busy with the remaining repairs, which, thankfully, were now all exterior, the drive having been re-balanced and stores replenished. The damaged console was as good as new and RIGA noted the reinforced chair shackled to the deck.
No trace of any locator device had been found outside on the hull; it was a mystery how she was being tracked.
Flipping the message console up, RIGA downloaded the waiting message into her communications array in her head and accepted it, acknowledging the time stamp that re-uploaded to the console, acting as a read receipt in the event of legal dispute.
Running her decryption routine, she noted that it had come from the official desk of the Head of the ESSG, the Empirum Secret Security Guardians, of which she was lead operative. The message continued to unravel, she waited patiently instead of reading it as she went along; she would rather wait and get all the bad news in one go.
The message coughed up on her internal view.
Begin Message++++
to: Agent RIGA
from: Chief Bollida
Well, this is a mess, RIGA. You appear to have chewed up a trail across the whole of the quadrant with your latest operation. I have received complaints from Artis Prime that you brought in contraband material with traces back to pirate activity in the region of Veruvia and Flame, both human planets (Don’t worry, I’m fully aware it is a blind and that you have somehow stumbled upon activity that we need to investigate).
I am at a loss to understand why you have come under direct action from unknown fleets. We have analysed the drive signatures you sent in your final burst. As you rightly suggest, these are not of Empirum origin; one drive signature has been tracked in the area of aforementioned pirate activity. We believe your activities have crossed paths with the pirates and made you a target. Therefore, proceed with extreme caution. Your concerns about LEXON are duly noted.
The response of Artis Prime Council is unacceptable. Avoid contact with Fregal and Pelon while we investigate further. Tracing Kalla is proving difficult. An operative is en-route to make contact with her, and, if possible, resolve the incident with Artis Prime Council.
We suspect the technology you are attempting to introduce is being filtered through the black market hence the reaction from Pelon. We cannot afford for the Pact to be de-stabilised by black racketeering on such a large scale. We believe Tempus is not to be trusted. He has ambitions being fed from unlikely sources. Should you obtain evidence he is fronting for the outlaws, he is to be removed immediately. We are equally unsure of Fregal and Pelon. The same condition applies, but in their case, be doubly certain of your facts. Pelon is a high profile member of the Empirum and has many allies here in the Senate, Talbeck especially. Keep clean logs, RIGA.
Mission 1 Objective: updated.
Proceed to client world as Diplomatic Representative. Convey our positive interest in seeing them incorporated into the Trade Empirum officially. This will provide you with sufficient cover to investigate pirate links and black market racketeering. If there is a link there, you are required to investigate, identify and eradicate.
The Pact Navy have been instructed to provide full tactical support and fire-power, if needed. They will shadow your every move. You should avail yourself of their assistance at the earliest opportunity. This mission carries the future of ESSG’s effectiveness. We cannot afford to fail. You are ordered to use the tools we have provided for you to the fullest.
Mission 2: Bring the Terran planet into the Empirum and remove the pirate threat.
Attached: Authorisation & Pact Command Codes.
Copies have been encoded to Naval command.
Use Pact comms drones and sentinels.
Route all signals directly to my office.
Good luck,
Bollida.
++++End Message
Turning in her new chair to look out the cockpit window, RIGA remained quiet while she analysed the possibilities. She had several options: to follow the pirate route back to its origin and trade point with her client’s planet and deal with it her way and then only draw in the Navy if she was out gunned. She wasn’t trying to eliminate the pirates, that was the Navy’s job. She just wanted to secure her client’s interests. That she could achieve; of that, she was certain.
Or, she could contact her client; tell them she had approval to negotiate their entry into the Empirum. Get them to take her back to their planet, and from there, work out where the pirates were operating, and remove the impediment from their end as part of the negotiations for membership.
It occurred to her that she knew very little of the planet in question. RIGA had not made landfall on it, only met in a space station similar to the one she was on at the moment. To achieve what she desired, she would need to land and investigate independently, if she was permitted. They didn’t know she was an artificial being so it should prove reasonably easy to obtain access. RIGA wasn’t sure if they had the same issues with on-planet AI’s as the Empirum humans, but was more than happy to continue the deception there.
In the end, it was a necessity to be sure of her client’s standing and ability to commit their planet, that forced her to take the latter option. It would probably serve both aims if she was able to harness their skills to track down the pirate links. However, she decided to place a safeguard, compiling and forwarding a message to Naval Command, using the contacts and codes Bollida had attached.
Satisfied, she also sent a copy to Bollida.
“Gossie, if all repairs and modifications are complete, let’s get ourselves out of here,” she called out.
...”Requesting access to launch elevator from Station Control.”
...”Permission Granted.”
...”Proceeding to lift four.”
The ship, light and tiny compared to the larger military support ships that surrounded it, hovered under thrusters, made for the small utility lifts reserved for service craft, and entered, securing itself temporarily to the lift deck waiting for the doors to close. The elevator shuddered as its aged and warped cage descended the lower arm of the station until it arrived at the end of the service spoke.
The lights turned from green to red as atmosphere was vented, then the doors at the other end opened to provide them with immediate access to open space.
Their way now clear, and with no other vessels in the vicinity, Gossie gently engaged thrusters and vacated the elevator. Spent fuel combined with ice particles from the residue atmosphere caused small flurries of snow as the tiny craft, in relation to everything around it, gathered speed. Pulling away from the Station arm’s low gravity, RIGA felt minute against the massive structure.
“Destination?” Gossie requested, pulling RIGA out of her thoughts, as their distance from the Space Station allowed them to engage the main drives.
RIGA gave her the coordinates that were recorded only in her memory in case the Ship was interrogated. Gossie knew to remove all trace of the route and destination when they arrived. It was standard procedure between them on these missions.
“Ah, the diplomatic choice won over the action one, then,” she stated matter of factly.
RIGA detected smugness in the response and managed to hold back a retort. She wondered if Gossie was mentally working as fast as her and was continually impressed with Gossie’s abilities. It had been a short partnership, but nonetheless, RIGA was gaining respect for the ship AI. The ESSG did not stint on the quality of their operatives; it was good to see that the support AI’s matched them for ability.
“Okay, engage hyper-drive and let's get on with the mission,” she commanded.
For the next forty-eight days RIGA went into shut-down mode, her version of sleep. This allowed maintenance of crucial parts of her synthetic anatomy to self-repair unhindered and kept her in excellent physical shape. The self-healing properties of the synthetics she was made from closely resembled bio tissue. It was tougher than a bio, but suffered the same dete
rioration in bruising, laceration and environmental extremes, although the impact level to sustain the injuries was much higher. The design allowed for her to bleed, although that aspect was a purely non-functional addition to disguise her true form.
Her skeleton was manufactured from teutranium, a highly sought after material that defied all the known laws of physics. By combining an electric charge with intense heat, the light-weight raw material liquefied, allowing itself to be easily moulded. As soon as the electric charge was removed the metal elements underwent a physical change and became hard and indestructible. No amount of subsequent heat, or electric combination would re-liquefy the metal. It was used very sparingly in its pure form due to its prohibitive cost, as well as lack of recyclability.
When LEXON Corporation had ordered her built, it was with the intention of using her in an Explorer Class ship for surveying new planets for mining expeditions. When the incident occurred that changed her, both SciLab, and LEXON wanted exclusivity for study on their own projects. The ensuing legal battle would have had kept RIGA cocooned for years.
Taking matters into her own hands, she had used her skills to stow on a ship heading for Epsilon Gamma where the laws insisted that, subject to sentience testing, that no AI could be owned if they could show they had self-will. She gained immediate citizenship, and the recognition of her extraordinary abilities catapulted her into the diplomatic corps, and from there to an ambassadorship where she was indoctrinated into the world of espionage and the darker pursuits of ESSG.
SciLab received a bounty from Epsilon Gamma that repaid their investment, along with sweeteners of other trade deals that offset SciLab’s loss of a valuable asset. They had no further interest in RIGA; her records were sealed from that day on. LEXON Corporation had not been so accommodating and knew they had missed out on an exclusive valuable commodity, hence the constant stream of bounty hunters.
Now, she was a veteran of some fourteen missions - this was the second with her own ship. The first had been to find and meet up with the client planet after a report had been received of a salvaged escape pod. It had been empty, without any computer on-board, but with a set of what appeared to be coordinates to an unknown planet.