Unknown Cargo (The Meridian Crew Book 1)

by Blake B. Rivers

  “Always one thing or the other,” said Benkei, the stride of his long legs keeping up with Amelia with half of the effort.

  When they entered the cockpit, they were both struck by the sight of the jump tunnel flickering away, revealing the inky depths of space between the systems.

  “What happened?” asked Amelia, moving to Sam’s seat, putting her hand on the cool fabric of the chair and looking at the readouts over her shoulder.

  “We got pulled out, no doubt about that,” said Sam, swiping her screen, scanning the area around them for any sign of another ship.

  “But why here?” asked Amelia. “We’re right in the middle of nowhere.”

  “That’s a damn good question.”

  It was answered in a second. In the middle of the cockpit window, to the left of the center, a jump gate began to open. It started as a small mote of white light, no bigger than the stars around it, and opened within seconds to a circular azure swirl. And out of the roiling curves came the massive body of a ship, colors of black and silver.

  “Scanning now,” said Sam.

  Benkei stepped towards the cockpit window, his arms crossed.

  “That’s got to be one of the biggest ships I’ve ever seen. And loaded for bear.”

  “I’ve got it,” said Sam, moving the image of the ship with a long swipe from her own readout to the largest viewscreen in the cockpit.

  The ship was long, a body of curved angles and slim profile, like a Japanese war blade. And on its sleek shape nothing that gave any view of its interior could be spotted; it was sealed and obscured, aside from the bristling rows and rows of cannon. And once the ship moved closer in their viewscreen, the insignia on its side -a simple design of an upward-pointing blade surrounded by a laurel wreath- was all they needed to know.

  “That’s a Federation ship,” said Sam.

  “And not just any ship,” said Amelia, her fists tightening, “that’s the Antioch.”

  “In deep space?” asked Benkei. “What could it be doing out here?”

  “Hiding. Or waiting,” said Amelia.

  But before they could speculate further, the viewscreen went the soft gray color of an incoming transmission. And a second later, it came. The screen was filled with the image of a man. He was an older man, in his sixties or thereabouts, with a face of stern brown eyes and strong features. His jaw was lined with a silver beard, and his head was topped with a clean head of silver hair dusted with gold in the fashion that the Federation higher-ups preferred. His black and silver uniform was topped on the shoulders with tasseled gold epaulets. His expression was one of grave severity. He said nothing for moments, as though intending to stun the crew with his imperious glare.

  “Crew of the trespassing ship, this is Admiral Ellison Dioc of the Federation dreadnought Antioch. You are trespassing in a Federation trade lane. Please stand down while you are scanned, and, if need be, boarded and taken into custody.”

  The screen went blank.

  “Anyone tell these assholes that the Federation’s dead?” asked Sam, her voice lined with worry.

  “Evidently not,” said Benkei, “though I suppose when you’re in command of a ship that big, you can call yourself whatever you want.”

  “That’s Admiral Dioc,” said Amelia, her voice tense. “He was one of the supervising brass on the Geist Project.”

  A beat passed.

  “Then that means he’ll know what this ship is,” said Benkei.

  “And who I am,” said Amelia.

  As if on cue, Admiral Dioc reappeared in the viewscreen, his expression now one of sinister intent.

  “Is that little Melly Durand?” he said, his steely eyes connecting with Amelia’s, his tone an awkward avuncular. “It’s been so long. And you’ve certainly grown.”

  “What do you want?” asked Amelia.

  “Well, first I want to take your ship and arrest you all for piracy. This is a Federation trading lane, after all. But now that I see that it’s you, and that you’re still in possession of one of my ships, I think I’ll be changing my plans to taking you and the ship into my custody and executing your crew, whoever they are, for terrorism.”

  “Terrorism against what?” asked Amelia. “The Federation’s dead. Done.”

  Admiral Dioc’s eyes widened in mock surprise.

  “’Dead’?” he asked, looking behind him at the bridge of the ship where he stood, where crewmembers, all in Federation uniform, darted here and there. “Tell that to the thousands of men and women on this ship. The Federation has suffered some setbacks, I’ll grant you that, but it’s only a matter of time before we take our rightful place as the single government of the system. And taking back you and your ship will go far in that aim.”

  “You honestly think that I’m going to just hand myself and the Meridian over to you? Why the hell would I do something like that?”

  “No, my little Melly, I don’t expect that at all.”

  Then the corner of one side of his thin lips pulled upwards in a sly crook.

  “That’s why I sent a few missiles your way before this conversation even started.”

  Chapter 11

  “Am, we got fire incoming!” shouted Sam.

  “What we got?” Amelia responded.

  “Three ion torps on an inbound path. They want to disable us.”

  “Warning, incoming fire,” said the ship.

  “And we all know what disabling means,” said Benkei, strapping himself into his seat.

  “Yeah, you’re all dead, and I’m as good as dead. What’re our options?”

  “Nothing you want to hear. Those torps are Stiletto-class, top of the line. They’ll be on us in about a minute. Flak’ll do nothing against those.”

  “Warning, torpedo impact in thirty seconds.”

  “Then we gotta knock ‘em out,” said Amelia.

  “Right, but first we gotta get the hell away from ‘em!” said Sam. “Hold on!”

  She pulled back on the flight stick, and slammed the throttle forward, sending them into an upward climb.

  “You fly, I’ll get the guns!” shouted Amelia, unblocking her harnesses and dashing over to the turret control seat.

  She pulled up the controls and unhooked the joystick that controlled the turrets on the top of the Meridian. Amelia swiveled the stick around as the display flickered to life, bring into view a computer rendering of the space around the ship. She pulled the stick left and right, trying to visually determine where the torpedoes were.

  “Shit, where are they?” she asked aloud.

  “Stilettos are stealth torpedoes,” yelled Sam, pulling the ship into a hard bank that caused the three in the cockpit to shift violently to their left. “We only even know about them because the ship’s scanners are so advanced.”

  “It looks like you’re going to have to knock these out the old-fashioned way, little one,” said Benkei, his voice as calm as ever.

  “Yeah, no kidding!” said Amelia, jerking the stick around, desperation in her eyes as she scanned.

  “I can buy us another minute or two, but unless we get those torps taken out, we’re done!” said Sam, the thin muscles of her arms flexing as she pulled the ship into a sharp descent.

  Amelia looked with frantic eyes, seeing nothing but black, and more black, as she pulled the camera around and zoomed.

  But once she looked closer, she was able to see the thin gray contrails of the torpedoes, moving in a slow, lazy curl towards the ship.

  “Got ’em!” she shouted. “Tiny goddamn profile on these stealth torps, but I see ’em!”

  “Then let’s rid ourselves of this particular problem,” said Benkei, his body shifting to the right as Sam pulled into another screaming bank.

  Amelia zoomed in on the trio of torpedoes, settling them in the middle of her crosshairs. She breathed in deep before letting the air rush out of her lungs, steadying her aim. A single trickle of sweat raced down the side of her face as her eyes stayed fixed on the contrails. The bodies of th
e torpedoes were black, effectively invisible against the pitch of space, so firing by leading from the trails was the only chance she had at knocking them out. She cleared her mind, as she’d done so many times in her Geist training, focusing on nothing but the target ahead of her.

  One more breath, then another exhale, and she pulled the trigger.

  A vibration thrummed through the cockpit as the railguns on the top of the Meridian fired, discharging a pair of ceramic bullets at an unthinkable velocity towards where the crosshairs were pointed.

  The shots hit home, tagging one of the incoming torpedoes and sending it up in a bright blue explosion.

  “Nice!” said Sam, her expression one of fevered concentration. “Two more!”

  “Torpedo impact in…twenty seconds.”

  “I can buy us five more, tops,” said Sam.

  “I got it, I got it!” said Amelia, turning her attention back towards the viewscreen.

  Another breath, another exhale, and another calm squeeze of the trigger.

  Then another bright blue pop.

  “One more!”

  “Torpedo impact in…five seconds.”

  The torpedo was close enough that Amelia could see the slightest glimmer of sunlight on its curved black form. She knew she’d have one shot, and that was all. The torpedo growing by the second, she squeezed the trigger one last time.

  And it hit, rupturing the body of the thing, splitting it open, the torpedo blasting apart in a bright blue flash, which, from this distance, Amelia could see was a tiny cataclysm of zipping blue bolts, like a small, strange storm.

  “That’s it!” said Benkei.

  Amelia sighed, falling back into her seat in a slump.

  “Nice goddamn shooting, Am!” said Sam.

  Amelia swatted the viewscreen away, allowing a wave of relief to wash over her.

  But as her targeting viewscreen moved from her sight, the large one, the communication viewscreen, flickered to life.

  It was Admiral Dioc.

  “Melly,” he said, his voice a calm that suggested to Amelia that he was keeping a boiling rage barely at bay. “I’m going to assume that you were at the guns for that little performance. It was impressive, just what I’d expect from your training. And the way the Merdian moves, ah,” he clasped his hands together and closed his eyes for a moment, “what a ship. Imagine, a fleet full of ships like her, and an army of soldiers like you. What the Federation would be.”

  “As pleasant as this reunion was, Dioc, we’re getting out of here,” said Amelia.

  “I was afraid you’d say that,” said Dioc, his eyebrows lowering in an affectation of sadness. “Which is why I’ve decided that if we can’t bring you and the ship back into the fold, we’ll just have to eliminate you. You’re simply too dangerous to let run around the system like a stray dog. Goodbye, Amelia.”

  Then the screen went dark once more.

  “Uh, Am?” asked Sam, her voice lined with worry. “We got another incoming.”

  “What now?” asked Benkei, craning his neck to try to see Sam’s viewscreen.

  Amelia pulled her own viewscreen back, flicked it to life, her stomach dropping as she saw what the Antioch had done.

  There was another launch, but this time it was a single torpedo. One that was easily visible via its massive silver form and brilliant orange contrail, as though it were powered by the sun itself.

  “Torpedo incoming. Impact in…one minute.”

  Amelia looked up through the main cockpit window, spotting the orange trail as it flew towards the Meridian.

  “Jesus,” said Sam, making a quick scan. “That’s a fusion nuke.”

  “Can we not simply blast it like the others? I mean, it’s right there,” asked Benkei.

  “No,” said Amelia. “It’s shielded. It doesn’t even matter that we can shoot at it.”

  “Maybe not,” said Sam, looking over her screens.

  “What’re you talking about?” asked Amelia.

  “The Meridian has some pretty sophisticated power rerouting processes. I can channel some of the engine power to the guns, and that might be enough to take that thing out.”

  “Then do it!” said Amelia, pulling up her viewscreen.

  “But we might not be able to move fast enough to get out of the blast range if that thing goes hot!”

  “Do it anyway! It’s the only chance we have!” said Amelia, training her sights on the fat, slow-moving body of the fusion nuke.

  “Ok, ok, ok,” said Sam, making quick adjustments. “Got it!”

  The lights of the cockpit went dim as the power was rerouted. Amelia didn’t waste a second, pulling the trigger over and over, sending volley after volley of supercharged ammo into the torpedo, the blue, circled streaks of the ammo blasting into the body of the torpedo, it’s form taking extensive damage with each connecting shot.

  “Impact in…ten seconds.”

  “Almost…” Amelia said. “Everyone look away!

  She pulled the trigger one last time, and that was all the torpedo could take. It ruptured and exploded, setting off a fusion explosion that was akin to being near a sun going nova. The crew covered their eyes as the cockpit was filled with a brilliant, blinding white light. The ship careened and was pushed back by the force of the explosion, sailing backwards.

  Then, a few moments later, the force of the explosion dissipated, leaving nothing but crackling orange particles that flickered and vanished against the black of deep space.

  And when the light fully cleared, they saw that during the confusion, the Antioch had jumped out.

  They were alone once again.

  Chapter 12

  The last glimmers of the fusion nuke faded, and soon the standard dim, thin lighting of the cockpit returned. Amelia, Sam, and Benkei were all slumped in their seats, the final trailings of adrenaline making their last courses through their bloodstreams.

  “Too goddamn close,” said Sam. “We’re lucky this thing can move as fast as it can.”

  “What’s the damage?” asked Amelia.

  “Doesn’t look too bad,” said Sam, doing a few quick scans. “Lucky for us, without an atmosphere, nukes are only a fraction of how bad they would be with one. Still would’ve turned us into hot slag the second it hit, though.”

  “They really weren’t messing around with taking us out,” said Benkei, leaning his large frame against the wall of dials and knobs behind him, slipping a cigarette out of his black waistcoat and lighting it up. “That Admiral Dioc has quite the little grudge with you.”

  “I guess he’s still sore about me ditching out on training and stealing his ship,” said Amelia, lighting a cigarette of her own.

  “No kidding,” said Sam. “And I don’t know whether to be relieved or offended that he didn’t notice that I was the one who helped you steal it.”

  “I would count that as a blessing,” said Benkei. “Had he noticed, we might’ve gotten two nukes instead of just the one.”

  “Wait,” said Sam, looking over her readouts. “We did get some damage after all. Down in the lower deck, near Sasha.”

  But before anyone could say anything, Sasha’s face appeared on the viewscreen, an expression of concern on his handsome features.

  “Uh, hello guys. I assume whatever was going on up there is over? OK, great,” he said in his usual flat affect. “Because we have a little situation down here with the cargo, and I think you all better take a look.”

  The crew shared a quick look, and a sick feeling flooded Amelia’s stomach. The job was cargo delivery, and the one way to not get paid with a job like that was to deliver the cargo damaged. And not to mention that, with the price that the Lunar Initiative was paying, Amelia knew that getting it wrecked would be a fast way to make a powerful new enemy in the solar system. As she and the others rushed down to the lower deck, she found herself wondering what else might go wrong with what was supposed to be a simple run.

  The elevator descended, and when it opened they were greeted with the
sight of Sasha standing near the long, white stretch of his laboratory table, staring at the small silver box of the cargo.

  “What’s the story?” asked Amelia, looking over the nondescript silver box which sat on the table amidst the various partially-disassembled guns, data-filled slates, and other lab equipment that Amelia couldn’t name.

  “Well, it’s the cargo. It’s fine, don’t worry about that, but when that shockwave hit…what was that, by the way?”

  Amelia brought him up to speed, his blue eyes lighting up when she mentioned the fusion nuke.

  “That makes perfect sense. What happened is that this cargo, like Aliadney said, is shielded against scanning. Any kind of scanning; this could be a box full of Gray Plague and we wouldn’t know. But when the wave hit, the shielding went down, just for a few seconds. But it was long enough for the Meridian to automatically detect the cargo, scan it, and determine what was in it before the shielding went back up. Well, mostly determine what was in it.”

  “And?” asked Amelia.

  “It’s…something strange. Nanotech. But not like anything that I’ve ever seen. Most nanotech is used for large-scale construction, medical applications, that sort of thing. And nothing widespread; the Federation was just getting a handle on this technology before the Sector War ended. But this, I don’t know. It’s something incredible.”

  Amelia thought back to her time at Geist training, the word “nanotech” brining to mind overheard conversations among technicians. It was supposed to be the next great revolution in technology, able to manipulate anything at the smallest levels. There was even talk of it being used on Geist operatives to increase strength, speed, even cognition.

  “And what sort of ‘incredible’ are you referring to?” asked Benkei.

  “Something…like a weapon.”

  “A weapon?” asked Amelia.

  “I don’t know for sure; I’d have to do more scans, which I can’t, since the shielding is back up. But whatever this thing is, if it’s capable of behaving in the way I think it might be, it could be capable of deconstructing matter on a molecular level.”

  “Wait,” said Amelia, her arms crossed and a finger raised as a specific conversation she overheard came to mind. “Are you talking about “gray goo”?”