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Collision Course - An Aeon 14 Space Opera Adventure (Perilous Alliance Book 3)

Page 21

by M. D. Cooper


  “Well, shit,” she said aloud.

  Marge couldn’t keep the happiness out of her voice. The AI really did love to work.

  Kylie found the latch on the side of the panel and slid inside, hopefully closing it before anyone saw.

 

  Kylie backed down the narrow tunnel and into the lift’s main shaft. The lift itself was directly below her, and she dropped down onto it while considering her options.

  Taking out Garza was the priority, but she needed help—a distraction, at least. She needed Ricket.

  Just then a laugh sounded above her and she looked up to see Ricket descending the lift shaft.

  “Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Ricket said.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Coming to rescue you, though I guess I was a bit late. But I do have this handy escape route.”

  Kylie nodded. “OK, but we’re not escaping. I have a general to kill.”

  Ricket dropped to the lift’s roof beside Kylie. “I see you’ve come around after your recent incarceration.”

  “It was before, but yeah. It was when I realized they’re going to hit Silstrand. They plan to ‘cleanse it’.

  “Shit,” Ricket whispered. “That’s going to mess up everything…. We have to stop it.”

  It was a lot worse than messing things up. It was an unimaginable death toll, and it was all on her for hesitating.

  “What can we do?” Kylie asked.

  “I can send a message to a beacon in the DL. It will transition out and relay it into Silstrand. But who do we send it to?” Ricket asked.

  “Everyone. We send it to everyone.”

  S&H DEFENSIVE ARMAMENTS

  STELLAR DATE: 10.07.8948 (Adjusted Years)

  LOCATION: SAS Polis Fury

  REGION: Outer Silstrand System, Silstrand Alliance

  Grayson sat in the command chair on the Polis Fury’s bridge, watching the dark shape of Dessen grow closer. The dwarf planet barely deserved the designation for a number of reasons.

  The first was that with a diameter of only two hundred kilometers, there was barely enough mass for the world to form a sphere. The other prevalent reason was there was no planet left.

  At least that was the scuttlebutt. S&H was very secretive about what went on at their research facility in the distant reaches of the Silstrand System.

  Which was why the thing was so dark. Its surface was a dense carbon sphere that shielded whatever it was S&H got up to in there. It amazed him that the Scipio infiltrators had even managed to get the weaponized nanotech out of there in the first place.

  Grayson considered that for a moment. Perhaps it was why they needed to use Lana to get it out of Silstrand in the first place. If they had suffered losses on the op, there may have been few options left when it came to transporting the tech out of Silstrand.

  “We have docking clearance,” Maureen said from the pilot’s console, craning her neck to look back at Grayson. “Captain.”

  The crew was uncertain how to behave around him. It had made the week-long journey from Trio interesting—though not a patch on the tensions that had existed during the best days aboard the Dauntless.

  Here everyone knew their place, had their jobs, and they did them to the best of their abilities. Grayson felt at home with the military discipline, though at the same time yearned for the free-spirited behavior of Kylie’s crew. Except Winter. He wasn’t ready to miss Winter yet.

  “Very good, Lieutenant. Are they going to deploy a tug, or are we going in on our own steam?”

  “We have approval to run our own grav engines, sir,” Maureen replied. “Shutting down the fusion burn in two minutes.”

  Grayson gave her an approving nod. “Carry on, Lieutenant.”

  Maureen had been one of the crew he had worried about the most. Other than his XO, Commander Fallon, she was senior of the command crew. Getting her approval had been critical in winning the crew over.

  He was still working on her, but she didn’t throw him uncertain looks anymore, so that was a good start.

  The rest of the five-person bridge crew were hard at work, but he noticed each glancing up at the forward holodisplay as Dessen grew larger.

  Eventually the sphere filled the entire view and a small docking bay came into view.

  “Not often they let SSF ships into their dark star, Captain,” Commander Fallon said as she walked onto the bridge, stopping beside the command chair. “What is so important that you got in to see them in their lair?”

  “I’d tell you if I could,” Grayson said as he rose from his chair. “What I can say is that I’d rather go into combat with a toothpick and a hairbrush than negotiate with these types.”

  Fallon laughed. “Negotiating, are you? Letting details slip, Captain.”

  Grayson shook his head and smiled. Fallon had been trying to ferret details out of him the entire journey to the Silstrand System. It made for a distraction that had vacillated between amusing and annoying.

  “You have the conn, Commander,” he said as he gestured to the command chair.

  “Aye, Captain, I have the conn.” Fallon replied.

  “Commander Fallon is the OOD,” Maureen called out to the rest of the bridge crew.

  Grayson walked off the bridge with a smile on his face. Even though the words were unnecessary—given that their HUDs had all updated with the command changes—the verbal announcements gave him comfort.

  Fallon said as Grayson slid down the ladders to Deck 21 and Airlock 7-21.

  Grayson replied.

 

 

  Ten minutes later, as the ship settled onto a grav pad, Grayson cycled the outer airlock doors open and surveyed the S&H docking bay.

  It was smaller than he had expected, though still large enough to house a five-hundred-meter cruiser with room for several more. S&H ran one hell of a profitable business to be able to operate something at the scale of Dessen.

  A woman stood at the bottom of the ramp, wearing blue pants and a yellow coat. It wasn’t the uniform worn by S&H’s administrative wing, though it was the company’s colors.

  “Colonel Grayson,” she said as he approached. “You are most welcome on Dessen. My name is Shinya, President Smithers’ assistant. The president is waiting for you.”

  “Thank you,” Grayson replied, noting how they treated the president of their R&D division like a head of state. Granted, he probably controlled the resources of a small star system.

  Shinya didn’t speak as she led Grayson out of the bay and down a corridor to a maglev station. They boarded the train and rode in silence for several minutes before stopping at another station.

  Shinya led him down a long white corridor to a set of doors which slid aside as they approached. Grayson’s breath caught as they stepped over the threshold. Though his feet fell firmly on a solid floor, it appeared as though there was nothing below him. Neither did the room seem to possess walls, or a ceiling.

  What he did see, however was the representation of a star glowing angrily, and in front of it stood a tall man.

  “President Smithers,” Shinya said loudly. “May I present Colonel Grayson of the SSF”

  The man turned and walked toward Grayson, meeting him in the middle of the darkened space between the star and the door.

  “Colonel, it is good to meet you,” Smithers said with a cold smile on his ageless face.

  Grayson checked the SSF database. According to it, Smithers was an old man, over three-hundred years, and looked every bit of it. The man standing before him now appeared to be no older than forty in natural years.

  �
�President Smithers?” he asked. “You biostats don’t match my records.”

  Smithers raised an eyebrow. “The benefits of new rejuvenation technologies we’ve been working on. Courtesy of S&H’s nano research.”

  “It’s my understanding that you purchased your nanotech from a woman named Tanis Richards,” Grayson said. “Or at least that’s the rumor.”

  Smithers’ face clouded. “We purchased base specifications—incomplete ones as it turned out. But we didn’t despair. It took many, many years, but we were finally able to solve the issues presented by the omissions and have developed some very impressive technology as a result.”

  “I know,” Grayson replied heavily. “I’ve seen the result.”

  “Excellent!” Smithers said with what Grayson could only imagine to be feigned enthusiasm. “Then I can only assume that you’ve come to return our stolen prototypes. Our contacts in the SSF have informed us that General Samuel was diligently leaving no stone unturned in his search.”

  Grayson almost stuttered in response. Smithers actually thought that the SSF was going to return the nanotech to them—something which may be fatal for Lana….

  “No,” he said after a moment’s pause. “Quite the opposite. I’m here to secure the original specifications. You can no longer deny—as just evidenced by your statement—that you do not have this technology. It is crucial in protecting the Silstrand Alliance against aggressors.”

  “Yes,” Smithers nodded seriously, “It is. And S&H Defensive Armaments will gladly sell that technology to the Silstrand Space Force. We’re already preparing contracts.”

  “Sir,” Grayson replied, “That is not what will happen. You will surrender that technology to us.”

  Smithers barked a derisive laugh. “Colonel Grayson, do you really think you can claim some sort of imminent domain? Senators sympathetic to our interests have already proposed new legislation protecting our technology. And it is our technology. Very soon the laws will be ratified, and you’ll have no choice but to return the prototypes—and any persons they have been applied to—to us.”

  “Persons they have been applied to?” Grayson said, his voice rising. “Are you claiming ownership of anyone with your tech?”

  Smithers shrugged, a sly smile on his lips. “Well, not yet, but in a day or so, yes. We, too, had agents pursuing our technology. It is my understanding that General Samuel’s daughter, a young woman named Lana was…altered by our prototype technology. We’re very interested in examining her, and her progress thus far. Do you have her onboard your ship?”

  Grayson’s vision went red. If this weasel of a man thought he could put Lana back on a table and see what made her tick, he was going to do it over Grayson’s cold, dead body.

  “You look unwell, Colonel Grayson. Would you like a glass of water?”

  As if by magic, a pedestal appeared at Smithers’ side with a glass of water on it. The S&H president picked it up and handed held it out to Grayson.

  “Please, you’ll feel much better.”

  “Why don’t you take that glass and shove it up your—”

  Commander Fallon interrupted.

 

  The message came into his mind and Kylie’s voice came through as though she were right next to him. Kylie’s voice faltered at that point, and Grayson wondered what had happened since they had parted on the Dauntless just two weeks prior.

  How had she ended up on some fleet he’d never heard of? was this some insane attack by Maverick? That didn’t make sense. Maverick was many things, but a zealot was not one of them.

  Kylie paused for a moment before continuing, her voice pleading.
 

  Grayson’s eyes widened as he saw the scope of the incoming armada. This certainly wasn’t some ragtag flotilla that Maverick had put together. Neither were the ships Scipian. They were approaching from the direction of the Hegemony of Worlds, but none of the vessels matched their designs either.

  Then he saw the projected exit point. The fleet would hit Dessen first.

  He looked at Smithers whose expression had lost some of its ardor. He must have heard the message as well. “Looks like you’re going to need the SSF to defend your sorry ass.”

  “We have defenses of our own,” Smithers responded, his tone relaying none of the confidence his words implied.

  “Better get them ready,” Grayson said as he turned and walked out of the not-room. “When we resume this conversation, I expect you to be much more conciliatory.”

  “Colonel Grayson!” Smithers called out from behind him, but Grayson did not reply.

 

  Fallon replied.

  Grayson reviewed the scan logs from the Polis Fury’s approach. There were only six hundred ships within two light-hours of Dessen—Kylie’s data indicated they had less than five hours before the enemy fleet arrived.

  That was barely enough time for a round-trip message to the Inner Silstrand, let alone time for the rest of the fleet to arrive.

  Six hundred ships against seven thousand.

  Smithers and his big dark sphere of a station better have some tricks up their collective sleeve, or they were all going to need to ready their eulogies.

  ASSASSINATION

  STELLAR DATE: 10.07.8948 (Adjusted Years)

  LOCATION: RFS Liberation

  REGION: Edge of Trio System, Silstrand Alliance

  Kylie and Ricket crouched behind rows of shelves in one of the ship’s store rooms.

  Ricket was eating cold beans from a can. “Gotta say, it’s nice that they don’t have NSAI on these ships. Makes sneaking around way easier. They actually need to have human eyes on screens to find anyone. It’s like stories from the dawn of time.”

  Kylie shook her head. She had to admire Ricket’s spirit. “I may not have the fancy upbringing you got out in the Transcend…wherever that is…but I’m pretty sure that video surveillance came about a while after the dawn of time.”

  “Yeah,” Ricket said with a shrug. “But that wouldn’t have been as funny.”

  “A bit hard to be funny right now,” Kylie said. “Garza is probably dancing my father around like a marionette as we speak.”

  “Sounds about right for him,” Ricket nodded. “But food is important. Especially with that fancy nano you’re sporting.”

  Kylie pulled the top off a can of peaches before looking up at Ricket. “How do you know about that?”

  Ricket shrugged. “These Revolution people may not suck feeds in over the Link, but I do. I was watching you in your prison cell. I saw how you got out. That’s not the sort of tech that’s common in the Silstrand Alliance.”

  “Got me,” Kylie said. “I picked it up from a friend a while back.”

  “Well, good thing you have an AI in there. You’ll need him or her to help you out.”

  “Her,” Kylie replied. “And how did you know I have an AI too?”

  “Earlier,” Ricket said around a mouthful of beans, “you said ‘we are making sure the coast is clear’. Not a lot of people talk about themselves in plural pronouns, unless they’re crazy, or they have an AI.”

  “Guilty as charged.” Kylie took in a bite of peaches, enjoying their sweet juices.

/>   “Having her should make what we need to do easier. If we can get to Garza and shut him down, then maybe we can free everyone before we even go to war.”

  That might be the chance Kylie needed to save her family. “What do we do? Everyone is looking for us. If we can even get to Garza. Do we even know where he is?”

  Marge said enthusiastically over the Link.

  Ricket smirked. “Smart girl you have there.”

  Marge sent a proud feeling across the Link.

  “She’s really good with emotion. I hadn’t felt anything like that in a long while.” Ricket looked slightly put off by the sensation. “Have you discovered where your AI is from? Where she was created?”

  “I figured she’d tell me when she was ready for me to know. Anyway, if Garza’s in his private command center, I can easily take him out, but how will I get there?”

  Marge said privately.

 

  Ricket rose and stretched. “I’ll make a distraction. Don’t worry, I’m really good at them. An explosion in one of the shuttle bays should do the trick. Stay in touch over our private connection. Once I get my distraction set up, I’ll secure a ship so we can get out of here.”

  Kylie wasn’t certain if she would need to escape once she freed her father from Garza’s control, but she didn’t want to debate that with Ricket. “You got it.”

  “Great, stay safe. See you soon.” Ricket walked quietly to the storeroom’s door and paused before opening it. Then, without a sound, she slipped through and was gone.

  Marge said.

  Kylie finished the peaches, and rose, sending a cloud of nano out into the corridor. She waited for a group of soldiers to walk past before she exited the storeroom.

 

  Marge cautioned.

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