Orphans In the Black: A Space Opera Anthology

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Orphans In the Black: A Space Opera Anthology Page 13

by Amy J. Murphy


  She watched a real-vid recording of an asteroid, or perhaps a small planetoid gone rogue, heading to nowhere. A glance at the calculations below the image showed it passing through this sector at a comfortable distance. “What about it?”

  “Getting signals coming from that. Can’t figure them out. Neither can Sadie.”

  “None of it?” Nova asked, curious. AI systems aboard deep space voyagers included protocols to analyze and interpret new languages and sensor readings, always prepared to encounter alien lifeforms and technologies even on routine jaunts such as this.

  “No. And there’s nothing like it in the databank. Not remotely like language, so they’re not saying ‘hello’. Mechanical, though. Have you found anything more, Sadie?”

  “Nothing, Captain,” the bland, somewhat female voice drifted from the unseen speakers. “No life-signs. I am continuing with the scans.”

  “Can we take a closer look?” Nova said. “Could be something on the other side of this. We have no report of anything non-organic we don’t own between the Mrak system and the jumpsite.”

  “Got a schedule to keep,” Selric said. “Probably just some spy relay planted here by our Shri-Lan pals. I’m itching to scrape it off that rock, but if I don’t get those mooks delivered on time I’ll lose pay.”

  “If this is a rebel installation we need to figure out why we can’t read it,” she said. “They’re not known to fool our systems for long.”

  He shrugged. “Not my problem. I’ve recorded what I can. Let your Union brains figure it out.”

  She frowned. “It could be weeks before they can send a scout out here. Months, maybe.”

  “It’s an asteroid. I’ve got the trajectory mapped. They can chase it down.”

  “I am detecting EM interference,” the computer named Sadie interrupted. “Of unknown origin or scope. We are being scanned.”

  The captain sat up straight, suddenly alert. “Do not reply. Compensate. Shields up.”

  “I’ve detected a ship on approach.”

  “What? Where? On screen.”

  Nova squinted at the vessel that now filled the main screen. Impressively large, in an oddly shaped way, it lumbered through space with clearly no intention of ever landing within an atmosphere. The dents marring the dull surface hinted at more brawn than shielding to keep it safe. It lacked ports or markings of any type. “How did we not see that coming?” she said, reading the distance indicated on the monitor. “Was that on the asteroid?”

  “Unknown, Lieutenant Whiteside,” Sadie replied. “I’m detecting intrusion into my sub-systems.”

  “Lock that down, Sadie,” Selric said, although the AI would already have begun countermeasures. “Hail them, all frequencies.”

  “Proceed,” Sadie said.

  “This is freight transport Kaven, out of Pelion, requesting com contact with approaching vessel. Hello there!”

  They waited expectantly, but no reply came, in their language or any other.

  Nova shifted over to the com officer’s seat to access Sadie’s manual interface, for which she had been cleared. “No reference to that class of ship,” she said, looking at the result of the database scan. “Doesn’t look Shri-Lan.” She tapped the com badge at her collar twice to request a private communication. “Ensign Tate?”

  A moment later: “Yes? Lieutenant?”

  “Rory, look at the scans. We’ve got guests. Not having much luck getting intel on them.”

  “I’m on it,” came the terse reply.

  “Approaching vessel, please respond,” Selric said, sounding a little less welcoming now. “Identify yourselves.” He reached over to a console beside his bench to alert the rest of the crew to man their stations.

  Nova watched the distance between the Kaven and the alien vessel shrink at a worrisome rate. “Not seeing much weaponry I can identify. Looks like debris blasters fore and aft.”

  Selric, with his eyes on another screen, nodded. “Our gear isn’t much better. We usually don’t get bothered much.”

  “You don’t usually carry a bunch of Shri-Lan prisoners either,” she said.

  “I was assured that there’d be not so much as a rumor of what we’re carrying. Wasn’t that the point of not using an Air Command transport?”

  She nodded. “Better go to lockdown, anyway.”

  Grumbling, he signaled the cargo level housing the prisoners to seal all compartment doors. “Hail that ship again, Sadie,” he said.

  There was no reply.

  “Sadie?” he said, looking up at the ceiling. He cursed. “She’s sequestered. That means they’re trying to get into her brain. She’ll have reduced her functions to main systems security only. We’re on manual.” He glared at the door to the hall. “Where the hell is everybody?”

  “We still have databank access.” Nova tapped her com badge again. “Rory?”

  “I heard that. The captain’s right. She’s walled herself in. Good girl. But we’re on our own now. Manual control of navigation, weapons, com. She’s running in housekeeping mode to keep us breathing.”

  Selric moved into the navigator’s bench and engaged the controls. “Can’t even guess if we can outrun that thing. But we can try. Let’s get tactical up, Lieutenant.”

  Nova initialized the Kaven’s weapons, a system woefully unprepared for actual combat. Union surveillance of the sparsely populated Ud Mrak system had reported no suspect traffic of any sort to interfere with their journey, allowing them to travel without armed escort. The jumpsite, as the only way in and out of this sector that didn’t involve a millennium or two, was monitored by Air Command now. If something approached, they would have investigated days ago. So where did this threat come from so suddenly?

  “I’ll contact the gate,” she said. “They must have spotted this thing by now.”

  The captain nodded. “We’re within firing range from there. And with what’s going on in the Mrak system, those are some pretty fancy cannons.”

  Nova tapped at the controls before her. “Damn. Com’s down.”

  “Rory,” Selric barked. “Get on that. Sadie shouldn’t have taken that down.”

  “She didn’t,” Rory said. “That’s not part of the lockdown protocol. Stand by. I’m on my way to the hub to see what I can reroute manually.”

  Selric looked like he was about to respond to that when something else caught his attention. He bent over the navigation console as if not quite believing what he saw. “We’ve got no helm control. Hell, we’re slowing!”

  “Tactical gone, too.” Nova looked up at the overhead screens and the alien ship looming over them like a storm. “I don’t recognize any part of that ship. Those disks could be weapons.”

  “Could be decoration, too. If they’re here for your prisoners we’re safe for now. It wouldn’t make sense for them to fire on us.”

  “So let’s ditch the prisoners, then,” Rory said. “Let them have their people and get on their way.”

  “And maybe they’ll blow us out of the sky when they leave,” Selric growled.

  Nova gave the mute com console an impatient slap, deciding not to mention that Shri-Lan were known to terminate their own members rather than allowing them to fall into Air Command hands. “We’re not exactly equipped for negotiations. We need to get the com back up.”

  “Rory?” Selric said.

  “Sadie’s equipped to deal with intruders. But she wouldn’t be hiding like this if she thought she can handle them. Bringing her fully online again will leave her wide open to intrusion. Instead of cutting our com sys, they might just decide to ration our oxygen.”

  “Not if they want the prisoners,” Nova said. She sighed when she recalled what she knew of the Kaven’s design. “Oh, right. They’re now locked up in the cargo sector. With a separate life support system. And Sadie has the keys.”

  Selric paced along the wall of display screens. “Gate patrol will be curious about that ship by now. If we don’t answer their hail they’ll send someone out here.”


  She nodded, knowing as well as he did that, although their laser cannons would reach out here, actually travelling to these coordinates would take hours for even a military cruiser. And, so far, they had no reason to fire on anything today.

  She watched him call up the ship’s schematic, overlaid with indicators of the crew’s locations. Most of the small blips clustered in the cargo section with the prisoners. A few showed up here on the main deck. Two dots in the helmsman’s cabin suggested why he and the com officer weren’t on the bridge. Nova had spent her life on one spacefaring military vessel or another, and, occasionally, aboard a station or ground base to which her father was posted. Disobeying a call to stations ensured, at minimum, a demerit. How did civilians manage to stay alive out here? she wondered.

  Selric reached for the internal com to hail the prison level. “Gavin. Te Nala. Report.”

  After a moment, the face of a female Feydan appeared on a monitor, her features obscured by dense facial tattoos. “Why the lockdown, Derk?” she said, having raised her voice above the shouts echoing through the halls. “Engines stopped?”

  “We got intercepted by something,” he said. “Unidentified ship off our bow. Com’s down, weapons down. Not sure why but they might be after the rebels.”

  She scowled. “So can I kick them out the airlock? Really the only way to hand them over.”

  “No,” Nova said at once. “We have no way to know their intentions or their fire power. Those captives are our security for now. We’ll have to hold out till Air Command notices something going on.”

  “She’s got a point,” Rory cut in. “How would we transfer them?” They heard his startled gasp though the small speaker. “Are you seeing this? Our shields are down.”

  Selric’s angry glare at the alien ship shifted to Nova. “I asked for an escort, didn’t I? Not to worry, your boss said. We’ll have you in sight for the entire trip to the jumpsite, he said. There’s no one out this way to worry about.” He flung his hand toward the screen. “What do you call that, Lieutenant?”

  She regarded him for a moment, her mind on other things. “Rory,” she said, turning away from the captain and his temper. “How are you making out?”

  “Not good,” he replied. His voice sounded strained but without the edge of panic she now heard in Selric’s. “Someone’s definitely hacking into our systems. All systems, so now Sadie’s not talking to anybody, including me. She’s totally unreachable. She’ll be busy maintaining life support, gravity, and trying to fend off the intruders. But our friends out there took over the com, manual navigation, shields. That’s not something she would be locking up.”

  “She can’t get that back?”

  “Hell no,” he said. “She’s not that bright. And, unfortunately, neither am I. They have some big talents working on this.”

  “Are they listening to us? Our friends?”

  “Possible. I’ve been trying, but I can’t return the favor. Nothing I’m poking at over there is familiar. Quantum computing, for sure, but I can’t even reach the hardware.”

  Nova raised an eyebrow. “Could this be a new species we haven’t seen before?”

  “If so, they’re terribly sophisticated.”

  “What the hell would a brand new alien want with your prisoners, Lieutenant?” Selric snapped. “And how does that matter now? This isn’t a science mission.”

  She nodded. “Well, that’s true.”

  “You don’t seem worried.”

  “I am. Deep down inside. Honest.” Nova leaned over her console and redirected some of the internal cameras to scan the interior of the ship. In truth, she was slipping into the state of tension that had become so familiar over these past few years and that she thought she had left behind on Ud Mrak for now. It wasn’t worry, really. It was the need to feel a gun in her hand and her squad mates at her side. “I think we’re being boarded.”

  “What?” he swiveled as if to look at all screens at once. “How’s that possible?”

  Indeed, it didn’t seem likely. Long haulers like the Kaven, plying the Trans-Targon trade routes, often had trouble locking onto non-standard docks, at times requiring convoluted adapters to create a proper seal. What were the odds of these aliens finding a way to breach the Kaven’s ancient hide?

  And yet, the camera focused on the bank of airlocks lining the upper deck now showed a sequence of active visual indicators above one of the gates.

  Selric hit the ship’s internal com. “All hands. Hostile boarding protocol. Grab a weapon. Do not fire until fired upon.”

  “They know what to do?” Nova said.

  “In theory,” he replied as he strode to a row of cabinets near the door. She watched him withdraw a few weapons and gestured to the rail gun in his right hand when he offered her a choice. “We like to stay out of hostile sectors. No profit in that.”

  “So what brought you to Ud Mrak?” she said and switched the com to the prison level. “All Union personnel,” she directed, “proceed to the docks and engage boarding party. Contain them while they’re boxed in the umbilical.”

  “Aye, Lieutenant,” the manager of the guard detail replied. “These Shri-Lan bastards have us itching for a fight.”

  But the cameras already showed the airlock door opening. Someone stepped into the corridor. And then another, followed by a third. Large, battle-ready, moving fast and in unison.

  “Not alien, I guess,” Rory said, also monitoring from his station near the AI’s mainframe. His voice shook.

  “Damn,” Nova breathed.

  More intruders poured into the hall: Humans, some Centauri and a few Feydans, women among them – about the same mix as the prisoners on the level below. It left little doubt that someone out here in the Mrak sector had gotten wind of the transport and decided to do something about it. Perhaps, after all, these prisoners were worth as much as HQ thought they might be.

  “Stand down,” Selric thundered over the intercom. “We are not interested in this show of force. Repeat, stand down.”

  One of the invaders, a scarred Human of indeterminable origin, stopped at the call. “Prisoner,” he said. “We come for the prisoner.”

  “Take them all,” the captain snapped. “They’re yours. We’ll clear the cargo holds. No need for violence.”

  The Human turned away and the troop of rebels moved down the corridor in formation that spoke of long experience and finely honed teamwork. Nova and Selric watched with growing understanding of their odds when the section door slid open and two of Selric’s crewmen opened fire.

  Nova cursed when the video-feed to the bridge wavered and the image disintegrated into a blurred mess of snapshots. Laser fire strafed the walls, combatants fell or were driven back, shouts erupted from the speakers. The rebels pressed onward, past the section door, and Selric scrambled to redirect the cameras.

  Nova switched a screen to scan into the distance outside the ship. There was nothing out there besides the hulk of the alien vessel now adhering the exterior of the Kaven. Neither real-vid nor the deep space scanners showed any hint of an approaching Air Command ship. She returned her attention to the multiple, blurry images on the other displays.

  She shook her head, squinting at a directional sign on the hallway wall. “This is wrong.”

  “You think so? Really?” the captain snapped.

  “Rory, are you tracking them?”

  “Aye. I think I know that big guy with the black streak on his head.”

  “How the hell would you know that one?” Selric said.

  “No idea. Looks familiar.”

  “Whatever,” Nova said, generally finding that one grunt looked much like the next. “That squad is far too disciplined for Shri-Lan rebels. They don’t fight like that. Not the kind you get out here, anyway. And they’re not going to the prison level.”

  “You’re right,” Rory said, stammering when they saw someone suffer a blow to the head from a Centauri’s armored fist. Was that one of the guards? Nova had not spent enough time with a
ny of them to tell one from the other. The increasing interference into their surveillance system made all of this look like one tangled melee.

  “The cargo holds are the other way,” Nova said.

  “Gods, they’re coming down this way!” Rory exclaimed. “To get at Sadie.”

  “Why would they?” Selric said. “They can have the damn prisoners.”

  “Rory, get out of there,” Nova said. “Hide somewhere.” She narrowed her eyes to peer at Selric. “You’re carrying nothing else? Smuggled stuff? Contraband? Something else they might want?”

  He shook his head. “Not with Union snoops aboard. I’m not crazy.”

  A deep shudder ran through the ship, almost powerful enough to throw them off their feet.

  “Now what?” Selric called up the schematic again. The image appeared, grudgingly, and flickered like an old traffic beacon. “They blew the hull along the upper concourse. Overloaded the rear shield generator there. Sector’s depressurized.”

  A frightened face appeared on the wall. “Captain,” the Feydan woman in the rear of the ship shouted. “We’re sealed in.” She reached up to adjust another monitor at her station. “There is live fire in the byway access. I don’t know who’s out there. And now we’re cut off from the emergency pods on the top deck.”

  “Stay where you are,” Selric said. “We’re outgunned. Shelter in place.”

  “Nova,” Rory said, sounding hesitant.

  “I’m coming to get you,” she said, wondering if he had had time to fix her gun and if he had the wherewithal to use it. “Just stay hidden.”

  “You’re doing what?” Selric said. “You’re needed on the bridge. We have to keep control of the ship.”

  She fought the urge to shove her gun into his unshaven face. “You have no control over the ship, Captain. And I’m not here to look after your hide while your crew gets toasted.”

 

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