7

I inventoried my gear, weapons, and ammunition before I left the Nightmare for the Jellybird. I wanted to be hands-on for the fuel transfer to the Bold Freedom. It seemed like a straightforward mission, but I knew something would go wrong. That was the way the galaxy worked for a Reaper and his renegade friends.

“What am I missing, X.”

Two seconds passed as X-37 reviewed my work. “You seem to possess everything needed for your assignment.”

“What’s going on, X? I know when you’re cooking something up in that devious little AI brain of yours.”

“Unlikely, Reaper Cain. But since you asked, I may have found a way into the Archangel armory. More importantly, I am putting together a workable plan to deal with Nebs’s elite soldiers.”

“You mean the spec ops shock troopers who think they’re my replacement?” I asked. “You’ve got my attention, but something is off. Your responses to my queries seem distracted and slower than usual.”

All my Reaper nerve-ware gave me was a series of nearly inaudible clicks.

“Are you okay, X? You’re slower than normal. Don’t get fancy and strain yourself.”

“I am defending myself from Necron. The Nightmare’s artificial intelligence is persistent. I’m only fortunate that Nebs kept him stunted because of his own paranoia. My analysis of this ship’s artificial intelligence shows a considerable amount of unused potential.”

Imagining what a state-of-the-art Union stealth carrier could do to me and my people didn’t give me a warm fuzzy feeling inside. I worried about how long it would be before Nebs caught up with us. His personal vendetta toward me would be bad, but there was also Elise, the Union crew who had switched sides, and the people of Wallach I needed to protect.

There was no way I could do this without X.

“I have fended off several new probes from Necron,” X-37 said. “We put a restraint collar on a part of the infrastructure he never thought was vulnerable. There are two additional hubs we need to control if we’re going to force the ship AI to our will. When I locate them, I will request that you deal with them.”

“Anything for you, X,” I said. “How long will it take us to use the Archangel armor?”

“A… precise… estimate… is… difficult,” X-37 said, a slight pause between each word. A casual observer might not notice the difference in the cadence of X-37’s words, but I was finely tuned to every nuance of my limited artificial intelligence’s communication habits.

“We’ll find Necron’s signal relays,” I promised. “I just can’t do it right now. There’s this whole thing that we need to do about the Bold Freedom.”

“Are you insinuating that I forgot about the ship full of refugees?” X-37 asked.

“Would it hurt your feelings if I was?”

“We’ve discussed this at length, Reaper Cain. I do not have emotions,” X-37 said. “However, I find your propensity to reopen old arguments that have already been concluded to be a waste of time. Perhaps you might interpret this as a negative emotional response by me when I call attention to your human nature.”

“Human nature is not all bad,” I argued.

“Interesting,” X-37 said. “I’ve heard you complain about human nature many times. I will continue to work on access to the Archangel armor, but you won’t use them as simple instruments of war.”

“Are you telling me how to use armor and weapons?” I asked.

“I’m working on something, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “My analysis suggests it is the only way you can defeat the Archangels. They are the elite of the elite and outnumber you, in case you forgot.”

“I didn’t forget,” I grumbled. “If you’ve got a plan, I’m all ears.”

“That would be amusing if true, Reaper Cain. Fortunately, I understand the senseless things you say. Let’s just say my plan doesn’t involve a direct fight with the Archangels.”

“At least let me kill a few of them,” I joked.

“I will accommodate your request,” X-37 promised. “Would you like to proceed to the Archangel armory now or disembark for the Jellybird?”

I considered my options for a moment, then stalled. “Let’s find Elise and see if she’s ready.”

By the time I found her, I sensed the urgency of the Bold Freedom down into my cells. X-37 provided frequent updates on my heads up display, that portion of my vision where my cybernetics displayed digital information. The view-field actually projected out from my face to increase its size but was invisible to others—a neurological trick, an illusion I took for granted every time I looked at a message from my LAI.

At first glance, the display looked like we had plenty of time before the comet overtook their ship. What were twelve to eighteen hours in an emergency?

Perhaps I’d been on more desperate missions, but the consequences of making a mistake would cost thousands of lives this time.

“X, did you ever get a count on how many people are aboard the Bold Freedom?”

X-37 paused a second. “An exact measurement is impossible. They are working with a modified ship and a mismatched crew. They didn’t conduct a roll call before everybody fled Dreadmax, nor did they establish a proper ship’s roster.”

“Just give me an estimate, X,” I said.

“If they’ve converted most of their cargo bays into living quarters, there may be a thousand people on board,” X-37 advised. “This would explain why they are short of many types of supplies and tools. People are undoubtedly living in temporary shelters everywhere there is open space, including flight decks and storage bays.”

I stalked the hallway, deciding the Archangel armor had to wait. My combat instincts told me this was a mistake. If I ran into Nebs or some other hostile force, like scavengers, I would need the best weapons possible, or some way to put my enemies at a disadvantage.

The odds of our survival were getting worse and worse. I had more friends and allies than ever, but my enemies seemed to increase at an alarming rate.

I told X-37 as much.

“Be patient, Reaper Cain. Your assumptions are correct, but they are not the most important reason you must acquire access to the Archangel armor before your confrontation with Nebs,” X-37 said.

“You don’t know what you’re doing, X. Be honest with me.” The more cryptic he got, the less I liked it.

“When you need to know my plan, I will explain it in detail,” X-37 said.

“Promises, promises.” This wasn’t the time to push X, despite how distracted he seemed and how disjointed his strategies to defeat the vice admiral and his dark ops fleet appeared at the moment.

It was only a matter of time before Nebs and all the other people I had kicked off the Nightmare caught up and wanted payback. Upgraded armor would help me no matter what X-37’s super-secret plan was. I just needed time to steal it, equip it, learn how it worked, and teach my crew to use it.

“Cain for Elise, where are you?” I asked on the public channel.

“I’m waiting for you,” she said with her normal attitude.

“It would be helpful if I knew where that was.” I really wished I had time to smoke a Starbrand and throw back a couple glasses of whiskey.

“We agreed that figuring out the Archangel armor was important,” Elise began.

“Listen, kid,” I started to say.

“X-37 knows I’m right,” she interrupted.

“We all agree that in a perfect world we would be decked out in the Union’s finest killing regalia—but the Archangel armor won’t be like throwing on a tactical vest and test-firing some new guns. Trust me on this one.”

“Reaper Cain is correct. I should mention, however, that the armor is capable of extravehicular activity, while still being true combat armor,” X-37 said. “Adding that feature to your equipment would be beneficial in almost all circumstances. Additionally, once I manage to manipulate certain subroutines of the Nightmare and other stealth carriers, the armor will provide substantial infiltration options.”

“Thanks, X,” I said. “But I’m trying to save a thousand people. They don’t have time for me to wait on stuff that nearly killed me the last time I tried to even look at it.”

“You made this prior attempt without my assistance,” X-37 pointed out.

“X is right,” Elise agreed.

I stopped in the middle of the hallway, wishing I could face either of them directly. “I promise you I want to use the Archangel armor as much as anyone. But right now, we need to get to the Bold Freedom and fuel it up. Twelve to eighteen hours may seem like a long time, but we don’t know how efficient the fuel transport mechanisms are or how long it will take to get their engines up and running.”

“Whatever,” Elise snorted, sounding like she didn’t want to admit I was right.

“Reaper Cain is probably correct,” X-37 said.

“Finally,” I said.

“As unlikely as that seems,” X-37 finished on top of my words.

Elise laughed, reminding me how young she was.

I started walking but heard something on the line that made me brace for another of Elise’s underhanded arguments.

“All right, Reaper,” she said. “But you know I’m standing right outside of the Archangel armory and you have to pass this way to get to the shuttle bay.”

I expelled a series of choice words and swore X-37 was laughing at me. Maybe I was projecting emotions onto my LAI again, but maybe not. Our relationship was complicated.

“Locke, can you take Horvath to the shuttle bay and make sure it’s ready for us?”

“Right away, Reaper Cain,” Locke said. “We’re on it. The transfer shuttle will be ready and waiting when you arrive.”

I stomped toward the entrance to the Archangel armory. I wasn’t excited about trying to force my way in again. The last time, I had done it without X-37’s help and been shocked until I wanted to puke all over myself. When I replayed the memory, I still saw stars.

“You know our gear is the best we’ve ever fought with,” I said to Elise as I approached her. She was at the far end of the hallway and still listening to me through comms rather than face-to-face.

I saw her touch the side of her earpiece to transmit. “Yeah, it’s good stuff. But I want the best.”

I crossed the distance between us and stopped to stare at the door. “We don’t have time for this.”

“Are you scared?” Elise asked with a mischievous smile.

“Terrified,” I said. “X, can you open this?”

“I cannot, Reaper Cain. You must use your override protocols. I will help guide you and hopefully prevent you from the Nightmare’s counter-theft mechanisms.”

“Great,” I said. Feigning confidence, I placed my cybernetic left palm against the frame of the blast door. The micro cables snaked out of my hand, working their way into cracks almost too small to see between the pieces of the doorframe.

“Steady as you go,” X-37 said. “I am analyzing your past effort and the circuitry that we are now weaving our way through.”

“Do you remember when I told you how sensitive these wires are?” I asked Elise.

She nodded. “I hope you don’t get shocked again. That looked like it really hurt.”

I squirmed as I guided the wires through several complex twists and turns of the locking mechanism. “That’s not helpful.”

“Is there anything I could do that would be helpful?” she asked, probably knowing what my response would be.

“You could be quiet for five seconds,” I said.

“Okay, okay—I’ll try.” Elise paced the hallway. It almost seemed like she was worried about me.

“Good news, Reaper Cain,” X-37 announced.

I wrestled with the security measures of the Nightmare that were still active and was unable to see the details I needed. X-37 and I had been through a lot together. I trusted him. I really did, even when I was about to get shocked to hell and back.

“If you will hold still,” X-37 advised, “I can deactivate the door locks.”

I went as motionless as a sniper until X-37 told me it was safe. When I stepped back, the wires rolled into my cybernetic hand. I breathed a sigh of relief.

Elise giggled. “Were you worried?”

“Maybe just a little,” I answered, realizing that I was sweating from the intense concentration and anticipation of another round of shock therapy.

We entered the armory, and I reaffirmed my belief that we didn’t have time for this. There were rows of Archangel armor, most of it gleamed with a golden sheen. It didn’t look stealthy. The appearance of these units was a hint of how Vice Admiral Nebs viewed his private army.

“X, let’s make sure we get control of this area, and then we seriously need to head for the BF and do what we came to this fucked up system for.”

“Agreed, Reaper Cain. I am reprogramming all security systems for this area as we speak,” X-37 said. “Which will be part of my plan to partition the Archangels from your eventual showdown with Nebs.”

“Sounds badass, X. You’re the man,” I said, not really giving a shit right now. “Less talk and more action. We’ve got innocent lives to save.”

“And new gear.” Elise clapped her hands, bouncing on her toes as she looked over all the high-tech gear. “I can’t wait to try the stuff out. Let’s stick it to these Union assholes.”

“I’m glad you like it. Your enthusiasm is infectious,” I said. “Now let’s go save some Dreadmax refugees.”

“If you touch the suits, you die,” Necron boomed from the intercom.

“What the fuck?” Elise snarled, twisting in surprise.

I flinched, then drew my HDK Dominator around to the front of my armor. 

Elise and I turned back to the shimmering gear—ready for a fight, even though we realized who we were dealing with now—and hoped the AI couldn’t make the suits dance like metal and ceramic death zombies.

“Are you talking to me, Necron?” I demanded. “Because we already kicked your ass once. How long will it be before we find the rest of your weak spots and shut them down?”

Necron didn’t respond.

“What’s the matter, Necron?” Elise said, sauntering forward, her uniquely confrontational attitude on full display. “Reaper got your tongue?”

“You are in violation of ship law,” Necron said. “I will expel you and the rest of the non-Union personnel from the ship.”

“Why, so you can go back to being pushed around by Nebs?” Elise countered.

“If you are attempting to anger me further, I must remind you I was not programmed with the capacity for emotion,” Necron said. “You will immediately conform to ship law or you will be quarantined from all ship facilities and resources including access to food, water, and air.”

I crossed my arms and stared into the camera next to the speaker box Necron was using to threaten us.

“You have been warned,” Necron said.

“If you could kill us that way, you would’ve done it days ago,” I said.

X-37 spoke a private warning in my ear. “Necron has attempted to carry out this threat several times. I have barely been able to stop him. Please proceed with caution.”

“Why don’t we declare a truce?” I asked the Nightmare’s AI.

“You want to leave the ship to attend to the refueling of the Bold Freedom, an outlaw vessel wanted by the Union for immediate destruction,” Necron said. “When you leave, I will regain control of the Nightmare.”

“He has a point,” X-37 said. “I should also note that abandoning control of the ship to Necron will interfere with efforts I am making to stack the odds in your favor for your inevitable showdown with Nebs and his golden goons.”

“Golden goons, I like that,” I said.

“That designation does not fit with Union unit designations,” Necron complained.

“Give us some privacy, X,” I said.

“Necron has been blocked and will not be able to listen for several minutes,” X-37 informed.

“Get ahold of Henshaw and see if he can do something about this pain in the ass AI,” I ordered.

Several seconds passed. “I have contacted the Lady Faith,” X-37 said. “She is en route. Once she lands, she will be able to work with Henshaw to engage Necron and other nasty surprises waiting throughout the ship.”

“We might as well unpack the Archangel armor while we’re waiting,” I decided.

“I agree,” Elise said. “Let’s get some new gear!”

“I was being sarcastic, kid,” I grumbled. I should’ve known better than to give the girl an inch.

“This is premature,” X-37 said. “I advise you to wait patiently and stick to my plan—which I admit hasn’t been fully formed or even partially revealed to you.”

“You want us—of all the people on this ship—to wait patiently,” I said, waving one hand toward Elise. We exchanged a look of concern over my LAI’s disjointed strategy. I gave her a little shake of my head, indicating I was on top of the problem and would deal with my LAI as soon as I could.

“It is a bit of a stretch, I admit. If you disregard my advice, there will be severe consequences,” X-37 said.

“How long before the Bold Freedom is destroyed?” I asked.

“Ten to sixteen hours, plus or minus five,” X-37 said. “Captain Slipdriver and his crew are continuously working to increase the time they can stay ahead of the comet, but their engines are losing efficiency. If they attempt to move out of its course prematurely, they will be caught in its wake.”

“Great,” I said. “I guess I’ll just stand here smoking a cigar. You want one, kid?”

Elise made a face. “Gross. That is a disgusting habit.”

“You’re not wrong,” I said as I fired up a Gronic Fats with my last heat tab.

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