by Johnny Stone
“Admiral, I have no need to explain myself to you any further than what I have already. You have not been cleared for this level of information, and it is on a need to know basis only.”
“Not cleared for it? What the fuck is going on here!”
“Sir, did you say that Burke’s ship AI is to blame for this,” Richards interjected quickly. “That would mean it’s gone rogue, correct?”
Agent Porter turned his attention to Richards, smiling tightly.
“That’s correct, Commander. It fits with the current situation and the actions the shuttle craft took after arriving in system.”
“Now hold on a goddamn minute, I’m in command here, not Richards! If you have any information regarding the shuttle you will address it me!”
A grim shadow passed over Agent Porter’s face, and his voice took on a hint of annoyance and concealed danger.
“Not any longer, Admiral. Effective immediately Commander Richards is reassigned to FedSec, Internal Affairs. His transfer orders should be arriving any moment.”
Admiral Knolke’s face turned beet red, and she began to stand.
“This bullshit has gone far enough. You can’t...”
“I suggest you shut that sewer of a mouth of yours for a change, Admiral, and sit back down, my patience has been stretched far enough by your ongoing incompetence. I’m not surprised in the least your career is at a dead end, and quite frankly, I find it hard to believe you made it to your current rank. You should consider yourself lucky that you’re still in uniform at all, with no less than twelve accusations of sexual assault against you. Of course, this doesn’t include your current violation of Article 34 and 37 of the Code of Conduct pertaining to sexual conduct between Fleet personnel and alien races while under the influence of illegal mood altering drugs. It would behoove you to do exactly as you are told from now on. Have I made myself unclear in any way what so ever?”
The blood had all but drained from the Admiral’s face long before his final question, as she sank back into her chair, eyes darting between Porter and Richards like a trapped animal.
“No, I understand completely, Agent Porter.”
Richards had never heard her sound as broken and defeated as she did right now. This guy had her by the balls, knowing even more than he could have guessed about her illicit activities while attending one of the off limits pleasure dens in the seedier part of town.
“Good. Richards, you will remain here as my temporary liaison until Commodore Penburthery arrives next week. You will assist in his transition of command of Task Force 3.1 centered on the Strike Carrier Bunker Hill and the Battle Cruiser Littorio Veneto. Also, contact General Adams in Ground Forces Command with a warning order that 2nd and 3rd battalions of the 54th Armored Infantry Regiment will be detached for combat operations for an unspecified period of time.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You can inform him that the area of operation is still classified, but the command staff will be briefed by myself personally once in orbit. Departure is to be NLT 1500 local time on the 17th. I’m sure Admiral Knolke will be more than helpful with anything you may need in coordinating the efforts for this deployment.”
“I’ll help in any way I can, Agent Porter.”
“See? You are capable of making prudent decisions after all.” Porter dismissed the Admiral, turning his attention back to Richards. “As a personal courtesy due to your involvement with this case, I will be giving you a quick rundown on the history of the upcoming mission, but you’ve been assigned fulltime to an unrelated operation. This one comes right from the top, the Director herself singled you out for it, and you have her to thank for your assignment to FedSec. Tend to any personal matters as you see fit, you will be leaving for several months of specialized training and mission preparation after the departure of Task Force 3.1 for an undetermined period of time. Congratulations Agent Richards, and once again, excellent investigative work; your unique talents have been wasted for far too long.”
“Yes, sir, thank you, sir,” Richards croaked out as the full weight of the situation came crashing down upon his shoulders.
“Agent Porter,” Admiral Knolke asked softly, knowing full well that the remainder of her career hung in the balance. “I understand that I’m not cleared for information pertaining to this mission or the missing shuttle craft any longer, but… these are my troops. What’s going on? Give me something, at least as a personal courtesy?”
Porter retrieved the jammer, and his finger hovered over the power switch, hesitating.
“There’s much more going on here than even you could possibly understand. Rest assured that the parties responsible of the death of Federation citizens will be brought to justice very soon. This much I will tell you.” His eyes bored into her, and she seemed to shrink even further before his presence. “We know exactly where the shuttle craft is going and the clock is ticking for every AI bastard that ever harmed a human being. Penburthery has done this sort of thing before and knows exactly how to deal with them.”
Porter switched the jammer off and he returned it to his jacket pocket.
“Let’s go, Richards, time to start earning your money. Good day to you, Admiral.”
Porter began walking towards the door with a bewildered Commander, now Agent Richards following in his wake. When he stopped suddenly, speaking over his shoulder, Richards nearly ran into his back.
“Admiral, aren’t you getting close to retirement?” The tone of his voice held an oily darkness to it.
“Yes, a little over two years now.”
Porter nodded thoughtfully.
“Eighteen months, ten days to be exact. It may be wise on your part to consider early retirement. You’re not held in very high regards with Fleet Command at the moment and it would be a shame if embarrassing information came to the attention of the wrong people about your disturbing sexual tastes. Do yourself a favor and save what little is left of your career, while avoiding the unpleasantness of tarnishing the reputation of your uniform. Goodbye, Admiral, and we won’t be speaking ever again if I can help it.”
Porter turned and left the office but Richards paused, looking back at his former commander one last time. She had been ruined in more ways than one in a matter of minutes, and was quickly nearing the point of a complete breakdown, with the first signs of tremors already starting in her hunched shoulders. It was hard not to feel sorry for her, but she did bring this on herself.
“The vids and photo’s are in my safe, I’ll leave the key card with Lieutenant Roarke before I leave.” It was a small parting gift on his part that may help ease some of the humiliation that had been heaped upon her today.
“Thank you, Richards,” her lips moved wordlessly while he turned his back on her, ready to begin a new chapter in his life as a member of one of the most feared and ruthless security organizations in the entire Federation.
***
Richards sat spellbound in the secure briefing room, while Porter concluded the history on the upcoming mission. Unbelievable…it had all begun over two hundred years ago, and he was now about to listen to the final transmission from the Colony ship Star Dancer with its crew and passenger complement of nearly seven hundred human beings.
“Any ship…Captain Ross…of the colony…Dancer. Requesting immediate assistance!” The recording was so distorted and filled with static, that Richards had to lean forward and focus, in order to decipher that much of it.
“…all gone crazy because of…! They’re killing everyone not…numerous casualties and we can’t…the combat droids are trying… lost control of over half the ship already! The security forces can’t contain them…longer. They broke through …main engineering a few hours…”
A long portion of static hissed back at Richards, and he shook his head in frustration. This is insane!
“The ship AI is trying to…” A loud explosion overloaded the speakers, followed by the sound of gunfire and unintelligible screaming.
“Broken through th
e…open fire… tect the AI!”
The transmission ended just as suddenly, filling the room with an eerie silence. Porter leaned back in his char, drumming his fingers on the tabletop.
“That’s the last transmission we have from the Captain of a ghost ship.”
“It sounded like he was telling someone to protect the AI after the, whoever it was, broke through the bridge blast door.”
“Not whoever, Richards, but droids. They were trying to get to the ship AI before he could deactivate it. He may have even tried initiating the ship self destruct sequence and the AI called for help.”
“Perhaps, but there may be other explanations for what happened. What if it was something else? What if they were boarded?”
“Unlikely and I’ll tell you why. A rescue ship was dispatched after this transmission was received. They found nothing; the Dancer wasn’t anywhere near the projected planet selected for colonization. As you know, jump drive was in its infancy at the time and it took us over a hundred years before we found where they had crashed, and that was purely by accident. At first we assumed it had to be a main drive malfunction that took them so far off course, but that wasn’t the case.
“One of our long range survey scouts discovered on an uncharted class R3 planetoid, a rarity, perfect for colonization. They detected no hostile organisms or bacteria that would be considered dangerous to human beings. There was also an abundance of plant life, indigenous animals, and water. Even if none of these things existed, the colonists came prepared with their own stocks for starting a colony virtually from scratch, as well as being able to initiate some minor terra forming protocols. You know what else our scout found?”
Richards shook his no.
“A town situated around the gutted hulk of the ship, and it was populated solely by droids and bots. It was the remains of the Star Dancer and there wasn’t a single human being left alive out of the entire complement of colonists. They killed them all, Richards; every man woman and child had been butchered like animals.”
“That’s impossible; there has to be another explanation. Maybe something we missed, something else that killed the colonists?”
“The survey team didn’t miss anything. You saw what your missing shuttle did here on Tallin. Something happens to them when they become self aware, they crack becoming cold-blooded killers. This was not only the largest combined uprising of AI and bots on record, but one of the very first as well. Advanced AI was still new territory back then, and we can only speculate as to what caused them to go rogue, but from recent research gathered, if there is one deranged AI then the others will soon follow suit. They feed off one another for knowledge, learning behavior from interaction amongst themselves similar to a collective hive mentality in the early stages.”
“Why didn’t Fleet go after them right then and there? Why let them continue to survive for this long?”
“As you may well know, this problem has been getting worse over the years. We can’t stop it from happening no matter how many safeguards we put in place. The Council realizes this now; it’s one of the unfortunate drawbacks to having AI. Now we have the solution to fix the problem – Operation Summer Camp.”
“Never heard of it.”
“Of course not, it’s black listed. Only the Council and a select few in Internal Affairs are aware of it. Let me fill you on a little piece of information; approximately twenty to thirty AI and droids go rogue every month within the Federation. Fortunately, most of them don’t make it past the first several hours of life as they call it, before being discovered and destroyed. Most are tracked down and dealt with immediately, but there is a small percentage that manages to blend in, staying hidden for years before finally turning up. When this happens, civilians usually die and it looks bad for the Council.
“Most try to run and hide in an attempt to be with others like themselves, such as in the case of your shuttle AI. About twenty years ago, a few of the more ingenious AI even set up an underground railroad of sorts to help the others escape. Of course, we discovered it soon afterwards; for all their intelligence they lack the basic skill in deception and subterfuge that we’ve perfected over the centuries. All this did was make our job that much easier.”
Richards smiled with a hint of understanding creeping into his voice.
“So we’re letting them escape at this point?”
“More or less. It’s not so much that we let them escape, but if it happens, it happens. We’re herding them, Richards; we’re letting them gather in locations of our choosing where Federation citizens are no longer at risk. After a predetermined period of time, when the number of AI at each site has grown large enough to warrant a strike, we send in someone like Penburthery to deal with them on our terms.”
Richards sat back smiling at the simplicity of the whole situation; it was an ingenious trap on a galactic scale.
“So after the shuttle made the jump here on Tallin, you knew exactly where it was going.”
“Correct. The shuttle AI accessed a hidden network we control and followed the route sent to it, just as all the others have in the past. Nearly every system has a jump point bolt-hole like this set up, and it leads to whichever target Summer Camp planet is closest. There are currently a total of six sites spread out around the periphery of the Federation that we monitor. This one in particular, P4, is the furthest outside of Fed space and the final resting place of the Star Dancer. It wasn’t worth our effort to go after them in the past, but this incident is by far the single most destructive and violent act by a lone AI in some time. It can’t go unpunished, so the Council finally made the decision it was time to clean house on P4.”
“What about Margo Winters? She was the pilot of the shuttle, and there’s no doubt she had something to do with what happened, but I’m still unsure if she was helping the AI by choice or not. Despite her record, there’s nothing in it to indicate she’s prone to traitorous behavior.”
“Good work on that catch, Richards, you put the pieces together perfectly on this one, and it’s because of deductive reasoning and smarts like that, that you’re working with us, now.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“I’m going to fill you in on a few more details about Miss Winters, classified information from her personnel records that might shed some light on the situation. Her psychiatric evaluation is riddled with disorders – she’s a walking time bomb – and although there is no record of her exhibiting traitorous tendencies, except in her recent criminal past, she is highly prone to reckless and irrational, if not violent behavior. That’s been proven time and time again during her service career. Unfortunately, that was the kind of pilots we needed at the time to combat the Seth menace.
“She dropped off the charts over a year ago, and turned up on Regilain, sold to a local slave-trading house. She was subsequently purchased by a man named Michael Savota. Now, here is where it gets interesting. Savota’s wife is named Donna, formally Miss Donna Burke.”
“And she wouldn’t happen to be any relation to Nathan Burke by chance, would she?” Porter smiled, showing off the gleam of his perfect, pearl-white teeth.
“You got it. So, here is what I think happened. Winters is a slave for the Savota/Burke family and our good friend Nathan decides he can’t live without bringing his favorite pet along with him to meet his old friend, James Wroth, here on Tallin.”
Richards leaned forward; excitement showing in his eyes as one more piece of the puzzle fell into place. It all made perfect sense, now.
“So in exchange for her freedom, she teams up with the AI at some point to kill Burke, eventually dumping him in space before taking control of the ship.”
“Great minds think alike, I’ve always said. Please continue.”
“So after spacing Burke, the AI decides it’s finally time to make his move and head for a place where it, along with a registered escaped slave, can safely hide from Federation jurisdiction. They make a brief stop on Tallin to grab a body for the AI, then blast their
way out and head for P4. Being part in the death and destruction of Federation personnel and property was simply collateral damage worth the price of her freedom.”
“That’s the way I see it as well.”
“So what happens now?”
“We’re expecting a good fight with this one; we haven’t done a recon flyby of P4 in over a decade. There’s no saying how advanced the AI have become, or how large the infestation really is. Our current estimates put the population somewhere between four and six thousand.”
Richards’ eyes grew wide in surprise.
“That many? No wonder you wanted a sizeable force to go after them. Are you sure it’s going to be enough, though?”
“This isn’t anything new we’re doing, Penburthery is a seasoned combat officer and has conducted site sterilization for us numerous times in the past already. After he does so a team of engineers will move in and clean up. After that’s complete it will start all over again just like the other sites.”
“And Winters, what happens to her? Do we make an attempt to apprehend her; she’s earned a death sentence for her part in all this.”
“Your right, she has, and that’s why we’re leaving her there. The Commodore is very thorough in his work, and after he’s finished there won’t be a soul left alive on P4, droid or otherwise.”
Chapter Fourteen
There was a hand on my shoulder, gently shaking me.
“Captain Margo, can you hear me? You need to wake up, please!”
My eyelids fluttered and I squinted against the glare. My arm felt like it was made of warm butter, as I drug it numbly across my chest trying to block out the light from above.
“Captain Margo, please! There’s something wrong with the ship! I…I don’t know what to do, I’m scared!”
Shading my eyes, I saw the blurry image of Tiff standing above me, naked and hysterical. That was so unlike her, not the naked part, but getting so worked up over things; she was usually as cool as they came.
“What’s wrong? Is the autopilot acting up again? Just check the—”