“So why is Hector still here?” said Penny, gazing around. “From what I’ve seen, only the really essential stuff has been left behind – everything else seems to have been ripped out.”
“It’s slightly complicated. O1 is owned and maintained by the O1 Corporation. Hector, on the other hand is owned by Comtec, who lease him to the station. Hector was installed about three years back and was the prototype for Ulysses, the mainframe over on Phoenix. Hector is a self-learning artificial intelligence, and over a period of time should be able to develop reasoning skills, and maybe even become creative. Well, that’s the theory, anyway. And that’s why he’s still here. The guys from Comtec come over once a month and spend a few days checking his pulse and measuring his IQ, so to speak.”
“Is it increasing?”
“Wouldn’t know,” said Chuck. “I’ve asked a few times but they tend to be pretty secretive about that kind of stuff. Anyway, plenty more to see.”
They descended through the reactor compartments, machinery spaces and the disused security centre and brig, ending their descent at Level 7 at the very bottom of the hub.
“And here we are at our last port of call,” said Chuck as they reached the base of the stairwell, finding themselves in a small, circular chamber, empty save for a pair of air locks, one on either side of the stairs. Chuck led Penny over to a porthole next to one of the air locks.
“Valiant,” he said, waving expansively at the pock marked, stained hulk outside. “Orbital One’s very own Type 101 inshore patrol vessel.”
“A gun-boat, sir!” she said excitedly. “Has she seen any action?”
“Probably not since you were but a gleam in your father’s eye.”
“Don’t think I was ever a gleam, sir. More of a surprise after the event, if you know what I mean.”
“Ah,” said Chuck.
“Oh, not to worry, sir. As my mother says, there’s never a bad time to start a family. Bit like having your wisdom teeth out.”
“Or getting a tattoo?”
“That’s the idea, sir!”
“Yes, well, the airlock is this way.” He applied his thumb and ID card and the airlock door opened with a squeak that quickly developed into a painful screech. “Nothing that a dab of grease can’t fix,” he said with a wince. “But make sure you check the air pressure inside the tunnel before you actually open the door. No amount of grease is going to help if there’s a busted seal.”
“Roger that, sir,” replied Penny as she followed Chuck into the short tunnel which led to the Valiant’s outer door. “Wow! Is that what I think it is?” she said, jabbing her finger at something through the porthole in the airlock tunnel.
“And what do you think it is, cadet?” asked Chuck.
“It looks like the business end of a Sabre pulse cannon to me, sir,” she said, pointing at a stubby barrel slung under the Valiant’s hull. “Bit of a surprise, sir. Didn’t expect to see anything with quite so much oomph.”
“I wouldn’t get too excited just yet,” replied Chuck as he opened up Valiant’s outer door and beckoned Penny to follow him inside the narrow passage inside. “This way. Flight deck is forward and aft to the engine bay, but since you’re interested, just follow me down to the lower deck,” he said trotting down half a dozen well worn steel treaded steps, “And we find ourselves in the weapons bay. It’s cramped so mind your head. Standard outfit of two Mark 5 Gatling guns and one Sabre pulse cannon. As you can see, the Mk 5s have gone and the gun ports have been welded shut.” Two empty mounts confirmed the fact.
“Who needs Gatling guns when we have a Sabre?”
“Familiar with the Sabre, cadet?”
“Oh yes, sir. Had a go with one at the academy. Loads of fun. Hell of a bang for your buck.”
“So what kind of damage can you do with one?”
“Oh, all depends on the situation. What’s the target?”
“Drug smuggler on a runner out of the system?” suggested Chuck.
“Well, if we just wanted to slow him down we could target his tail pipes and melt them into slag.”
“Smart move,” allowed Chuck.
“On the other hand, if a more robust action was called for we could target his engine core.”
“Certainly do the trick, but that’s going to blow the target into a lot of very small pieces, destroying any evidence in the process.”
“Well, if we were feeling malicious we could punch a few holes in the hull. That would preserve the integrity the target and the sudden decompression would incapacitate the crew,” she said.
“Incapacitate? You ever seen the effects of a sudden decompression? All those exploding eyeballs, ruptured organs, blood boiling in your veins... Bit drastic, don’t you think?”
“Not really. Dance with the devil and you reap what you sow, or something like that. I hear some of those smugglers are a rather rough lot, not to mention well armed. Get the first shot away and then stick the boot in while they’re down, that’s what I say, sir.”
“Penny, you do surprise me,” said Chuck wide-eyed. “Unfortunately, I’m going to have to disappoint you. Give me a hand to get the inspection panel off, will you?” Chuck unfastened the latches on the panel and together they exposed the inner workings of the Sabre.
“It’s empty,” she said. “That’s a bit of a blow.”
“Well, not completely empty. The amplifier and focusing array were cannibalized a long time ago but we still have the primary laser.”
“Enough to melt a set of tailpipes?”
“Not much chance of that, I’m afraid,” said Chuck.
“Punch a hole in a hull?”
“Unlikely.”
“Blister the paintwork?”
“Get close enough and there might be enough power to give the bad guys a light to read by but that’s about it.”
“But we still have the business end sticking out of the hull though, don’t we sir? We could at least put on a bit of a show.”
“Did you take any drama classes at that academy of yours, Penny? Because it would take a heck of a performance to convince someone to surrender while we were driving this bucket of bolts.” With a shrug Penny followed Chuck back up to the flight deck.
“Here we are – flight controls, navigation, weapons and communications. Dual controls, left and right as you’d expect, though as I’m sure you know, the senior officer usually sits on the left.”
“Be happy to take the right hand seat. Any chance of taking her for a spin?”
“Not right now, I’m afraid,” replied Chuck.
“Don’t tell me,” she said. “No engines?”
“Not at all. Even on O1, standing orders state that Valiant must be kept at readiness at all times. She’s all fuelled up and ready to go. Unfortunately regulations also state that both crew members be fully qualified in flight, nav, weapons and comms. ”
“But I am, sir,” said Penny. “Right up to date on everything, honest!”
“I’m sure you are, and that’s your problem right there. You might be up to date but the Valiant is about thirty years behind. Get yourself back dated to the Valiant’s systems and we’ll think about that ride. You’ll find all the relevant info in the station data base and when you’re ready there’s a computer simulation up in Ops.”
“Roger.”
“Well, I think that just about concludes our guided tour,” said Chuck. He gave the back of the pilot’s chair a thump which caused a small cloud of dust to rise into the air. “On behalf of the crew I’d like to thank you for your kind attention throughout. We hope you enjoyed the experience and look forward to seeing you in the crew room at 8 a.m. tomorrow morning.”
“Yes, sir!”
“Right then, cadet, home and tea.”
Phoenix Station
Lt. James saluted as Commodore Jacks disembarked his transport and stepped aboard Phoenix. “Welcome to Phoenix Station, commodore.”
“Thank you, lieutenant. This is my adjutant, Lt. Primrose and we’ve also br
ought along a platoon of marines to supplement your normal compliment. They will be placed under your command but I may need to commandeer one or two of them as needs dictate.”
“Very good, sir.”
“Also, I wonder if you could place one of Phoenix’s shuttles at our disposal. Lt. Primrose and I will be travelling over to O1 later today. It’s my intention to establish my headquarters over there.”
“On Orbital One?” said Lt. James in surprise.
“Correct. If Phoenix is incapacitated in some way I’ll need a base of operations I can rely on.”
“As you wish, sir. We have a compliment of two Aries class scout vessels. I’ll have one assigned to you immediately. If you’d like to follow me, sir, I’ll show you to HQ.”
“Lead the way, lieutenant, and give me your appraisal of the situation as we go.”
“Yes, sir. During the last seven days Phoenix has experienced various malfunctions. Though many of the incidents did not affect our ability to conduct military operations, both the air traffic control failure and the instability issues severely impacted our ability to defend the station and project force.”
“Possible causes?”
“Sabotage or malfunction of the core. Or, sabotage or malfunction of multiple sub-systems.”
“Action to date?”
“Permission to speak freely, sir?”
“Granted.”
“The commodore will no doubt make his own analysis but it is my conclusion that neither the station administration nor Comtec are willing to accept responsibility for the incidents and worse, neither party seems willing to co-operate with the other, Comtec particularly so. In my opinion, until this situation is resolved the likelihood of further incidents will only increase.”
“Thank you, lieutenant,” said Jacks. “Your opinions are noted. Primrose?”
“Yes, sir?”
“As soon as we’re settled in arrange a meeting with the station heads. Might as well start as we mean to go on.”
Two hours later Jacks addressed the station’s assembled executives. “Good day to you, ladies and gentlemen. I am Commodore Jacks and this is my adjutant, Lt. Primrose. Our brief is to investigate the recent malfunctions aboard this station and to assess the likelihood of sabotage. I will need unlimited access to all data, all personnel and all areas of the station. Any questions?”
“I assume you mean with the exception of the core,” said Taggart.
“No, Mr. Taggart. I do not.”
“Commodore, I’m sure you know that the contract between Phoenix and Comtec stipulates that only Comtec personnel are permitted access to the core and related data.”
“What would that have to do with me, since I am employed by neither Phoenix Corporation nor Comtec,” said Jacks stonily.
“But the contract–”
“Is irrelevant. As I’m sure you will all be aware, the military has a vested interest in this station. Aside from its intrinsic strategic value, this facility was funded in part by the defense ministry, a not inconsiderable investment I understand. Rest assured that it is an investment which we will protect.”
“I assure you, commodore, our private security consultants are more than capable,” said Taggart.
“Is that so?” said Jacks. “Well, be advised that I have my own security detachment sir, commonly known as the Marine Corps.” He paused to look at each of the faces in turn. “As of today I’m declaring a local emergency.”
“A what?” asked Delacroix.
“A local emergency. You are familiar with expression?”
“Not entirely…” said Delacroix.
“To all intents and purposes a state of martial law but with only a token military presence. As of this moment I am the de facto commander of Phoenix. I will, in the near future, be visiting each one of you in turn, and I will have your co-operation, because if I don’t, I assure you that I will have no hesitation at all in calling in a full battalion of marines and have troops in full body armor stationed on every walkway and on every corner of this facility. Do I make myself clear?”
The faces around the table nodded. Delacroix blanched. He’d never had many dealings with the military. He rather liked young Lt. James, good natured and highly principled – noble even. Commodore Jacks seemed a very different kettle of fish. Delacroix decided that he didn’t like him very much at all.
“With me, Primrose,” said Jacks, striding briskly from the room. He chuckled as they entered the elevator. “I rather enjoyed that. Did you see the look on the administrator’s face at the end? I thought he was going to bust a gut.”
“Think you were a bit hard on them, sir?”
“Not at all, they needed a damn good shaking up.”
“Well they have had their fair share of problems.”
“Good grief, Primrose, they’ve had a few mechanicals, that’s all. It’s not as if someone’s been taking pot-shots at them with nuclear missiles, is it? Bunch of old women, the lot of them. Wouldn’t last ten minutes in the service.”
“As you say, sir.”
“I do say, Primrose. I think we’ll leave them stew for a while and in the meantime we’ll run over to O1 and whip them into shape too. Mind you, from what I gather that might be quite a task.”
CHAPTER 6
Orbital One
“A few announcements,” said Commander Jacobs to the assembled Ops crew. “Firstly, some news about Vinny. It appears he’s been sentenced to three years for theft. As you are aware, he was found in possession of a truckload of stolen thruster nozzles. From what I gather he claimed to have bought them from a registered trader and even had the paperwork to prove it. Might have gotten away with it if he hadn’t tried to sell them back to the people he stole them from, but that’s Vinnie for you. He was also caught in possession of a Unimax diagnostic array, which is quite a coincidence as ours went missing just last month. With a bit of luck we might even get it back.
“Next, we’ve had a formal request from Phoenix to take care of some of their traffic. The idea is for us to fix them up with basic necessities and give them a place to lay over until Phoenix can figure out what to do with them. We begin tomorrow, so during the next twenty four hours we’ll be stocking up on foodstuffs, water, oxygen, CO2 scrubbers, fuel cells and the like. I’ve also arranged to have some extra accommodation readied just in case. Our main priority, however, remains Delta Section. We need to keep on schedule so it looks like there will be a lot of overtime going for those that want it. Actually, it means a lot of overtime whether you want it or not.”
“Overtime?” groaned Bernie.
“Which means overtime pay – at a time and a third.” said Bill. “Now you’re talking my language.”
“How long’s it likely to continue?” said Archie.
“No idea,” said Jacobs. “Though it seems that Fleet HQ has sent someone to sort out the mess over on Phoenix. A commodore, no less.”
“The fleet? They must be taking it seriously,” said Chuck.
“Oh, they are, gentlemen.”
“A commodore, you say? Just so long as he stays away from here,” said Ollie.
“I’m afraid I have some bad news for you,” said Jacobs. “Commodore D.R. Jacks is on his way over as we speak. It seems he wants to set up a temporary HQ here.”
“Great. That’s all we need,”
“A word of caution,” said Jacobs. “I know Commodore Jacks from old. At first glance he might seem a bit eccentric but don’t let that fool you. He’s as smart as they come and isn’t the sort of person you want to get on the wrong side of. Keep on your toes and stay out of trouble.”
“Stuff him,” said Bill. “He’s not my boss – I work for O1.”
“Just to remind everyone, you are all members of the auxiliary forces and Jacks has the power to activate your commissions any time he wants, in which case he will be your boss. You have been warned.”
Next morning Chuck was summoned to Commodore Jacks’ temporary HQ, just a few doors down from Comma
nder Jacob’s office.
“Don’t fancy this,” he said to Penny. “I’ve just seen Baz – he said that his commission’s been activated. Bill and Duke too.”
“How about the others?” said Penny.
“Don’t know, but they aren’t drafting me if I’ve got anything to do with it.” He walked the short distance from the crew room and knocked on the door, wondering if he was supposed to wait for an answer or just march straight in. With no answer forthcoming he opened the door a little and peeped inside, immediately finding himself under the gaze of a woman wearing the uniform of the Defense Forces. She was in her mid-thirties, of medium height and with a figure somewhere between stout and voluptuous, the sort Chuck would definitely have been attracted to if she hadn’t looked quite so severe, with her hair pulled up and around so tightly that it seemed to drag her eyelids upwards.
“Yes?” she inquired, looking him up and down. Chuck felt like he was being weighed up and found wanting.
“My name is Poulson,” said Chuck politely. “I believe the commodore asked to see me.”
“Mr. Poulson, yes,” she said. “I’m Lt. Primrose, the commodore’s adjutant. Take a seat and I’ll see if the commodore is ready for you.” She motioned to a chair and marched off into the next room, closing the door behind her. Chuck sat down but in no time at all Lt. Primrose opened the door to the commodore’s office and waved Chuck inside.
“Good morning, good morning, Mr. Poulson,” said Commodore Jacks, getting up to shake Chuck firmly by the hand. “Delighted to make your acquaintance. Take a seat. Sorry to drag you in at such short notice but as I’m sure you are aware, things are hotting up and immediate action is required.” His expression hardened. “Immediate and decisive action, I should say. I take it you are aware of the recent events on Phoenix?”
“I hear they’ve been having a few problems with one thing and another,” Chuck acknowledged.
“More than a few, Mr. Poulson. A sight too many, as a matter of fact, and it’s getting worse by the day. Place is becoming a damned shambles. To cut to the chase, in light of the recent events on Phoenix Station, and also to preempt the occurrence of a similar situation on O1, I have decided to declare a local emergency.”
The Blunt End of the Service Page 9