1.

The Corus Cluster is the place to be, in the Argessi System. A chaotic, cobbled together amalgam of old refuelling stations and service depots, welded together or strung together with flexi-tubes and scaffolding. Starships of every size swarm around the structure, like carrion birds around a corpse, waiting for scraps of rotting flesh. Long distance interstellar haulers, pregnant with ores and other cargo. Smaller, yet still massive, interplanetary bulk carriers, private pleasure yachts and passenger barges spewing forth masses of tourists and travellers. Buzzing gnat sized police and customs vessels, largely ignored by all. Long, sleek military destroyers and their agile drone escorts looming at the edges of the cloud of ‘Cluster traffic like sleeping lions slumbering after a mighty feast. At the very periphery drift the black, featureless organic ships of the Corporate galactic mega-rich, watching from afar like distant emperors.

More money flows through the Corus Cluster than anywhere else in the system. A halfway house between Argi Major and Golus, a major stopping point for prospectors to and from the Kersios Ring asteroid belt. It’s no surprise that many other businesses besides ore refining have sprung up. Why go all the way to Argi Major when you can stop half an AU short and you don’t even have to pay for set down and up lift boosts to planetary surfaces for a decent shore leave?

Life on a habitat is always interesting. It’s like living on a spaceship, except it never goes anywhere. Always standing in queues to get through airlocks, the constant changing of air pressure between compartments, the stale, recycled air smell, the high society look covering the grime and rust like a peeling coat of paint. Ok, maybe not interesting as much as it’s like living in a used starship salesperson’s office.

On average, over 2 million beings move through the ‘Cluster in a week, the perfect place for a freelance crew to find clients. That’s me, Seth Donovan, First Mate on the unaffiliated starship Dreaming of Atmosphere. I’m officially 49 years old by galactic standards, although due to relativistic time differences I’ve only experienced closer to 32. Really, I’m actually fairly young to be First Mate. Most senior crew on freelancer ships tend to be closer to the 75 galactic standard mark, with the Captain not far beyond it. Ours certainly is. Old’ Maxine Cooper, our illustrious leader, is bang on 80 years old according to regular time counts. Her biological age is closer to my official age, how close I have no idea. That’s the problem with interstellar travel, no one really keeps track of exactly how old you are any more. Only dirtsiders or station dwellers like to keep tabs.

I like to think of myself as good looking, although aside from a brief civil union in my early twenties I’ve somehow managed to remain unattached romantically for most of my life. That’s not to say I’m ugly, I guess I’m not every girl’s cup of tea. I have dark brown hair, I’m not too tall, about 10 centimetres short of 2 metres, I use the ship’s gym semi-regularly and I eat as well as I’m able. A couple of years ago I scored a nasty facial scar that runs from just above my right eye down to about half an inch from the corner of my mouth. Captain Max says it looks badass, although she may have just said that to make me feel better at the time.

Captain Max, Coops, Maxine or just Max. The person I admire the most in life. She used to date my father, I’ve been told, although it never lasted. She was his First Mate back when my pops was Captain of the Dreaming of Atmosphere. It didn’t make sense to pass the ship onto me when he died, as I was barely a teenager when he passed, and no crew would ever fully accept a Captain who inherited their leadership rather than earned it. So, I started at the bottom, under Max, who was both firm and fair with her captaincy. I never once questioned her ownership of our vessel, as far as I was concerned the Dreaming was hers. She had served under my father for nearly two decades of biological time, and I’d never known my mother, so she was pretty much the only matriarchal figure I’d ever known. She was quick witted and sharp of tongue, a tough as nails frontier trader and freelancer. She taught me how to shoot, how to negotiate a deal and how to sniff out a set-up. She sent me to the Primacy Star Marine Corps when I hit my twenties to learn how to be a fighter for real, and it was there that I became a man.

The PSMC is often hailed as one of the most well trained military units in the Votus-Eridani Network. Maxine figured that if I could do well there, I could serve as the Dreaming’s weapons and defence officer when I mustered out. That was about two years ago, and I’ve been a part of Maxine’s crew ever since. I must have lived up to her expectations, because within a year of re-joining her she made me First Mate. You would think that the other crew would have had an issue with that, as some had served for far longer than I had, but they seem to trust me for the most part and have supported me as far as I’ve seen.

Except for Mal Cutler.

Mal ‘Cuts’ Cutler is one of our engineers. We’ve never seen eye to eye, and he’s never passed up an opportunity to point out my inexperience or to highlight any mistakes I made. Our Chief Engineer, Eric Thackeray, says he’s just an anti-social bastard to everyone, and don’t take it to heart. If Mal weren’t such a great mechanic and maintenance expert, I would have taken our beef to Max long ago. One thing that our systems operator, Fel’negr, likes to say is that we don’t need to be friends in order to work together, and I try to be professional in all my dealings with the crew while we’re underway. Fel’negr is a member of the Orlii, a race of philosophically minded humanoids who have been allies of humankind since our early days of space exploration. Fel, like most of his kind, is tall and slender with an ovoid face and small, almost child-like ears similarly placed to a human’s ears. All Orlii are hairless, and Fel is no exception. A curious feature of the Orlii is their eyes; they change colour depending on their dominant emotions. I’ve come to learn that the pale blue that Fel usually exhibits when I speak with him is a mix of both admiration and amusement. I don’t quite know how to take him at times, whether he is imparting wisdom or just playing with me. Perhaps both.

Aside from Mal, Fel, Eric and Max there are another four members of our crew. Hergo and Denno are our general duties deckhands, a pair of indigenous Argen who operate our various systems depending on the type of job we’re performing. The Argen are reptilian humanoids native to the Argessi System, where we’ve done most of our business lately. They’re both shorter than most of the crew and broader of shoulder. I’m just a little bit embarrassed to confess that I can’t tell them apart, and often confuse the two.

Crege is our pilot, a member of the avian Garz’a race, and my sparring partner in the ship’s gym. Although not the deepest thinker, he has a quick mind and, like all members of his race, has fantastic reflexes that make him an excellent pilot.

Zoe Ward, an intern from the Kanto Prime University who is studying medicine and cyber-augmentations, is our newest crewmember. She is our acting medical officer, although she lacks any real experience, and is probably having the hardest time fitting in. Unfortunately, for her, Max has made me her ‘Space Daddy’ as she likes to call it. It’s my responsibility to ensure she receives adequate orienteering and advice on ship life, and her first point of contact if she has any questions. And she has lots. All the time.

It’s not that I don’t have the time or the patience for endless questions about the correct use of sanitary facilities, or personal storage space, or the shortest route from the aft cargo deck to the bridge, or whether we should order replacement bandages if our current stock is listed as out of date, or whether we should consider reviewing the ship’s auto-chef menu every six months or three months, but…ok may be I don’t have the patience for all the questions. Max always laughs when I complain to her about Zoe, and then she reminds me of how I was before I shipped out to Kanto Moon for my PSMC training. I kind of feel bad after that, and remind myself that Max probably made me Zoe’s Space Daddy to teach me about command as much as Zoe needs continuous guidance on pretty much everything not related to health.

That’s pretty much the whole family, aside from a few temporary crewmembers and third party contractors for various jobs where we have a skills shortage. Overall, we work fairly well together, although we’ve yet to be through truly trying times and for the most part have had a good run. Which brings us to our current destination.

The Corus Cluster, the most often tread upon cesspool at the arse end of the Votus-Eridani Network.

2.

“I vote we take dock when we see one.” Blurted out Crege, his usual, impatient self.

“That would piss off more than just the next ship in line,” reminded Max, “And since this isn’t a democracy, you don’t get a vote, Crege.”

“We wait for 5 hours! For what? Slow bezak to remember to bring docking fees?”

“We have this conversation every time we pull into port.”

“And still we must wait! Try my way once. See for yourself. We off this ship in one hour, I swear on my lurzak!”

“I don’t doubt you, Crege, but if we jump the queue, you’ll need your lurzak blade after we dock to fend off all the angry station officials we pissed off and I wouldn’t put it past a few of our fellow patiently waiting ships to take a few pot shots at us to teach us a lesson.”

“I know fast way in, they not spot us. I work out plan last time we came here, remember?”

“Crege,” I interrupted, “was this the plan than involved dumping 15% of our Imodium gas and igniting it, then flying through the cloud to mask our propulsion signature while Fel switches off our IFF transponder to confuse everyone out there before we slip into a dock undetected?”

“Yes! Excellent plan! We should try it!” Crege proclaimed excitedly.

“And what was the reason I gave you last time why we can’t do it?” Asked Max, a small grin on her face.

“Err…” Crege’s face screwed up in concentration.

“Hey, Cap,” I asked Max innocently, “Didn’t we remove our Imodium tanks last year?”

“You know, Donny, I think I remember something about that.” she mused, striking a comical thinking pose, “What did we put there instead?”

“I think we needed that space for our manoeuvring thruster upgrade that Crege requested.”

“Oh yeah! Are you saying we should have left our thrusters as they were now, Crege?” asked Max

“Um…no. No, Dreaming fly like yendag now, much better than Imodium storage.” admitted our chastened pilot.

Max and I shared a chuckled at Crege’s expense, and turned away to continue with our previous task before Crege interjected. More a man of action, Crege was prone to springing into action first and apologising later, much like most of his race. He was good value though, he could take a joke and realises when he makes a mistake.

I was working on a communication with our client, trying to organise a job report on our latest endeavour. We had just finished a simple courier job of picking up a case for the client from the adjacent system, Harakiwa System, and delivering it to a contact on Argi Major. These types of jobs were common. With the vast distances between planets and star systems, real time communication was impossible. Transmitted communications were seldom secure, with the advances of technology over the centuries it became increasingly easy to decipher and decode nearly any message that was put into space. As a result, contracted couriers were often used to carry sensitive data physically. Although not 100 percent secure either, it was often better than the alternative. Couriers with proven trustworthiness found frequent employ in such tasks, and many in the trade would rather fight than give up their cargoes of data. We were one such franchise, although far from our only capability. It was steady work with decent, usually easy pay. As First Mate, one of my duties is to take care of the details that are often summarised or overlooked by the Captain, she decides what we’re going to do, and I work out how we’re going to do it safely and efficiently.

It’s not that she is incapable of doing this, far from it, but the Captain of any active starship can’t focus too tightly on one aspect of a job or one operation of the crew. She needs take a step back and see the whole picture; it’s my job to make sure she can do that. Space, especially in a frontier system like Argessi, is a dangerous place for the vague and unaware. It’s impractical for a police force or military arm to protect the vast distances between points of interest or population centres in a star system. The simplest way is to allow licensing of starship weaponry for defensive purposes and allow crews to defend themselves against piracy and other hostile actions in space.

Frequently used routes between stationary features in a system tend to be dotted with outposts with limited defence capabilities, but for the most part, you were on your own once you left a station or planetary body’s sphere of influence. Most star system governments offer mercenary contracts and licenses, post bounties on known pirates or public enemies, and generally turn a blind eye when taking the law into your own hands. They don’t publically approve of such measures, but the average law-abiding citizen or business owner will appreciate any effort made to make a system and its space lanes safer. One can make a name for oneself championing such causes, and there are many popular movies that romanticise such people. Max has always been rather vocal in her dislike of such folk tales, and from my time in the PSMC, I know where she’s coming from. Space combat is one of the most terrifying types of battle I’ve ever faced, the sense of helplessness that nearly overwhelms you as you’re completely at the mercy of your technology and tactics, where one mistake could not only be the end of you but can cost the lives of everyone on board.

A noise from Fel’negr pulls me from my thoughts. “We have clearance to dock, Captain!” he declared, “Berth 232, Terrace Depot.”

“Take us in, Mr Crege.”

“Garz’a obeys, kitrak!” said our pilot, a big grin on his beak.

The Dreaming shuddered ever so slightly as Crege engaged our engines. A steady, low pitch hum began to permeate the bridge. It’s probably not exactly right to call it a bridge, though cockpit doesn’t seem to do it justice either. The official designation on the ship schematics calls the compartment the Command Module; it’s a three metre by four and a half metre box filled with several command stations. The pilot sits at the front, surrounded by half a dozen displays showing visual and holographic depictions of the outside, sensor data from various sources and indicators and control used in piloting. Directly behind and on the port side of the module is Maxine’s station. She has a few of the same displays as Crege, only smaller, and several other displays that are configurable depending on the task that Maxine wants to oversee. I sit aft of her at a similar station, in what is called a secondary command console. I also have controls that allow me to direct the ship’s weapon systems. Opposite me, on the starboard side, is the systems panel. Fel’negr controls and monitors the many diverse systems needed for starship operations, such as communications, sensors, power distribution, shields and internal status indicators. Usually two people perform this job, but we long ago learned that Fel is something of a maestro when it comes to multitasking and putting anyone extra in the role to support him just ends up getting in his way. I learned this the hard way.

It’s cramped, but the seats are comfortable and we’re all friends in here anyway, so it works for us just fine. We don’t spend our whole time underway in here, that would just drive us nuts, but during the brief periods of operation that are critical, such as berthing and navigating, we remain closed up in here until it’s safe to stand down.

“Are we docking?” That was Zoe, she just came up from down below deck, probably alerted by the shuddering start of the ship’s propulsion drives. She stood at the hatch to the command module, taking it all in with wide eyes, clearly excited at the prospects of finally berthing at the Cluster.

“We sure are, you should get below and strap in,” I warned her, “you never know if Crege’s going to hit something coming in.”

“Crege is here, human, with superior hearing.” came Crege’s mockingly insulted tone.

“Has he hit something before?” Zoe’s eyes became even bigger.

“Ah…only once, little human.”

“What was it? Did you cause a hull breach?”

“Come on, Zoe,” I shooed her away, “We need to close the hatch in case we lose pressure.”

I hit the control button and the hatch closed on her worried queries about de-pressurisation probabilities. I caught the look Max gave me as I swung back to my console.

“I know. Patience, understanding and reflection.” I sighed.

“You could have let her stay for a bit longer. We still have thirty minutes of manoeuvring before we dock.”

“Sorry, I know. I’m just having issues with Isaac Cameron. He’s being difficult.” I was referring to our client.

“What does he want?”

“He wants to meet and greet once we dock. Won’t transfer payment until we’ve met.”

“Kak!” swore Crege, “He wants to cheat us.”

“I don’t think so, he’s been straight with us in the past.” mused Maxine.

“Perhaps Mr Cameron wishes to speak of things unsafe on radio alone?” broke in Fel, his hands flying over his console in almost Zen-like fashion.

“Yeah maybe, but why withhold payment? He’s got confirmation of our drop. Jobs done.”

“Well, it’s not so big a deal to go meet him. Set it up, tell him it’s fine so long as it’s sooner rather than later. I’ve got crew that needs to be paid and a thirst that needs quenching of my own.”

“Captain drinks like Garz’a warrior.” said Crege, respect in his tone.

“The Captain has a cheeky pilot.” observed Max

“But a perceptive one, at that.” offered Fel, sagely.

“You can’t flush a crewman out of the airlock for speaking the truth, Cap.” I said, chuckling at their antics.

“Mutiny! On my own ship! All right, first round is on me once Isaac is dealt with. Where’s he wanna meet?”

“The Crystal Lounge. Know it?”

“Yeah, a flashy dive with delusions of grandeur. I might need someone to watch my back. It’s in a rough part of the Cluster. Feel like a few overpriced beverages before we move onto more reputable parts of town?”

“You mean bars with cheaper drinks?”

“It’s almost like we speak the same language, Donny!”

“No problem, are you expecting trouble?”

“No, but not many people get to be my age by not being prepared in places like this.”

“Not many get to be Captain’s age at all!” declared Crege, bravely. This earned him a thump on the back of the head by Max.

“Ertak, et kar ka do, burbak!” called Max.

“You would not say such things if you knew my hatch-mother, Captain!” pouted Crege.

“Well, you’d need to actually know who your hatch-mother was to tell her I said that, so I guess I’m safe.” came the retort. The compartment filled with laughter as we made our way to berth 232.

3.

It’s strange how a place that for months was somewhere that I couldn’t wait to get away from, is now a cherished, familiar sight. As the ship weaved between pylons and support beams to its designated berth, I couldn’t help but smile at the irony of it; until recently I thought the Corus Cluster was the frontier, now that I’d actually been to the frontier I see the creature comforts that I took for granted. I was looking forward to a hot bath, a cold beer, and room to stretch my legs. Isaac Cameron was putting obstacles in my way, proverbial hoops to jump through before I see the day out. Despite the light banter and jovial back and forth of my colleagues on the Dreaming’s bridge, I had misgivings about the coming meeting. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but something didn’t feel right.

We put the Dreaming into her berth, a retractable platform with dozens of pipes and hose fittings for various ship types coming out to greet us. Hergo, or Denno, set about connecting the correct hoses for refuelling and soon we were all stepping ashore, as sailors of old would say. There were a few grumbles about not being paid yet, but likely, everyone still had some credits to their name from our prior runs.

“It would be nice to actually get paid on time one day, Seth,” grumbled Mal Cutler, throwing a sneer my way, “I suppose they don’t teach accounting to grunts in the Corps?”

“Can it, Cuts,” jibbed Eric, ever my front line of defence against the cantankerous Cutler, “Even the skipper said it was out of our hands. Go drown your sorrows in a cheap bar some place.”

“Or better yet, drown yourself!” I call out to his back as he sauntered away, probably to find the nearest brothel.

“Why are you always so mean to him?” came a quiet voice from halfway up the gangway, of which I was at the bottom of checking my side arm while waiting for the Captain.

“He started it, Zoe.” I said, and instantly regretted it.

“Aren’t you supposed to be the mature one?”

I sighed.

“I suppose you’re going to want directions? Some place interesting?” I quickly changed the topic.

“No, thanks for the offer though. Fel’negr has offered to take me shopping!”

“He has?” I asked, genuinely surprised.

“Yup! I can’t wait! He said he was going to show me around the En’taren mall. I hear it’s absolutely beautiful!”

I broke out into a hearty laugh. En’taren Ma’wll was the local Orlii monastery, of sorts. The Orlii are the progenitors of a philosophy called simply The Way that teaches critical thought, deep focus and introspection. I’m not sure of the exact particulars but they’re generally respected for their problem solving exercises and many famous scientific minds around the galaxy profess to adhere to at least some of the principles of the discipline.

“What has he told you to expect?” I enquired

“That I can buy things here that I can’t buy anywhere else!” she called back as she virtually skipped down the gangway and started towards the station interior.

“Actually,” came Fel’s voice as he walked down the gangway next, “what I said was You will be able to gain something here that you can gain nowhere else. But I guess I see where she could have assumed that that was what I meant.”

“And you didn’t mean next season’s fashion?”

“No. I meant wisdom.”

“Well, better you than me.”

His eyes flashed a deep blue of amusement. “You owe me, Seth.”

“That I do. Have fun, Fel.”

As Fel’negr headed off to catch up with his charge, Denno made his way down the gangway next.

“Take care, Denno.”

“Hergo. Denno is on duty.”

“Sorry, Hergo. Couldn’t see you properly in the light.”

A trilling, jittery sound emanated from atop the gangway as Crege marched down. I’d heard him make this noise many times; it’s the Garz’a equivalent of a chuckle. He high fived me as he passed and made for the station proper. At last, Maxine swayed down the gangway, adjusting a webbing strap on her outfit.

“This thing always pinches one of my boobs.”

That’s Maxine, all class.

“You’re wearing it wrong.”

“No I’m not; they’re made for men, not women in their forties with big tits”

“You could put a chest plate on under your shirt? Two birds with one stone.”

“No way, I’m wearing one of my best bras. It’d ruin it.”

I sighed once more.

“Ok, so how do you want to play this?”

Max rubbed her chin, and then re-adjusted her webbing again.

“Let’s just see how Isaac is playing it first, you hang back a bit or head straight to the bar. I’ll go greet him and see what the fuss is about. If he wants a sit down and chat, I’ll call you over. If he’s just playing silly buggers I’ll put my foot up his ass and join you at the bar.”

“After you’ve made sure he’s paid us, right?”

“Yeah, that’s what the foot up bottom is about.”

“Ok, glad that’s sorted. Lead the way.”

“What did you bring?”

“The PX-2, two clips, my scrambler, ablative jacket, 2 party poppers and my PSMC stabber.”

What that meant was a standard energy pistol, with two spare batteries, a short wave communication jammer, an energy weapon resistant jacket, two stun grenades and a combat knife. My standard load out when I wanted to be ready, but not look like I wanted to start trouble.

“Good man. All I got is my hold out. I don’t want to appear jittery in this place. Could invite trouble, a woman walking around armed. They might think I’m scared. If they think I’m not armed, they’ll thinking I have a body guard and leave me alone.”

“You do have a body guard.”

“You’re a good boy, Donny.”

“I want to earn my captaincy, not get it because you got yourself killed in a bar fight.”

“Huh, who said you’re getting it next anyway? What if I hand it down to Fel?”

“Come on, that guy won’t want to leave his systems panel. He won’t trust anyone else to do that job.”

“You’re just bitter that he kicked you off as his second.”

“That was nearly 2 years ago.”

“Ah huh, you boys don’t let go of grudges that easily.”

“We do so!”

“Sure. How’s Cuts doing, lately?”

I sighed, for the third time.

“Can we just get going? I want to check out Cortez’ Armoury before they close tonight.”

“Ok, kiddo, let’s go hire a cab.”

We made our way into the station. There was no need for customs or passport checks, that stuff was already handled while we waited for our berth. A security computer simply acknowledged our faces matched our reported credentials and noted our entry into the Corus Cluster proper and then logged us into the system.

Personal computing, these days, was a lot more personal than ages past. From a young age, most people receive a biological implant that grows along with us and matures at around the same time as humans enter puberty. When the implant, called a proto-chip, enters the next stage of development it interfaces with the host’s brain and begins interacting with it. The proto-chip then becomes a fully functional computer system that uses the meat in the hosts head to store data and provide processing power. Components of the system are grown from the hosts DNA and the result is a non-invasive, Bio-Augmentation called an Interface Overlay.

Augmentation is commonplace, in modern times, both cybernetic and biological. The term Aug is an abbreviation of the cybernetic variety, while Bio is used for the latter, although just calling them both Augs is easier. Interface Overlay’s are the most common Bio, nearly everyone has them, although they come in various makes and models. The top of the range are said to grant the user a secondary mind, an Artificial Intelligence that can communicate internally with the host and perform thought exercises and complex problem solving independently of the host. Sounds a lot like a multiple personality disorder, but I’ve actually met someone who had one such Bio, back in my time with the PSMC. He was our squad’s techie and came from one of the Inner Systems worlds, where everyone is rich and has access to the most advanced technology around.

Talking to him was creepy, you never knew if it was him or his computer that you were talking to, and he always seemed a little distracted. He was a good soldier though, and his double brain came in handy more than once. I rather miss him, to be honest; I used to bounce ideas off him all the time. I miss a lot of my old squad…

“Donny! You getting in?” Maxine yelled at me from the back seat of the cab we’d just hailed, jolting me out of my memories.

“Sorry, got lost in thought.”

“Did it hurt?” She joked.

“Yeah, it kind of did. “ She saw the look in my eye and softened almost immediately.

“Thinking about Gossamer?”

“A little.”

She squeezed my knee as I sat down beside her in the cab, but said nothing more. She looked out the window with a sad look on her face. She knew she couldn’t say or do anything to make me feel better, so she didn’t. I was grateful.

Our cab, a computer controlled air vehicle with 4 seats, sped off into the station access corridor. The corridor was a hundred metre wide lane about a hundred and sixty metres tall that ran the length of the station, about a hundred and twenty kilometres in total. Side access corridors opened at various sections further down that led to other sections of the station. The custodians of the station ran a monopoly on transportation, having banned personal transports inside the station, and the only way to get around without using small shuttles out in space was to pay a fee and use one of the many taxi vehicles such as the one we were using now. All up, there were about forty something different station sectors that were once smaller stations or habitats themselves, all linked up to this large corridor. In an emergency energy fields popped into place that could prevent atmosphere from leaking out of the corridor and all the station sections were isolated in a similar manner, as well as with their original airlocks when they were standalone stations.

I read somewhere that the same person owned all the stations. An Argen entrepreneur bought up a heap of these old habitats that were all being mismanaged by their previous owners and gradually towed them all into one place in the middle of the two main population centres of the system. Add to that its nearness to the system’s only operational Jump Gate and it wasn’t long before his investment paid dividends.

Jump Gates, by the way, were the only way to travel faster than light. They directed traffic to a single destination, light years away, linked to a matching Jump Gate at the other end. The Argessi System, as previously mentioned, only had one that led to the Harakiwa System. A second Gate was under construction but was several years away from completion. This meant that the Argessi System was the current end of the line, so to speak.

The known galaxy is a vast, sprawling mess of Jump Gates connecting literally thousands of star systems together. To organise the many systems, the governing body of the galaxy – called the Galactic Protectorate, or just the Protectorate – classified groups of star systems together around significant systems and features and called them Networks. We were at the far end of one such Network – The Votus-Eridani Network.

Each time a ship enters one of the Jump Gates, it’s sent many light-years away to the next Jump on the Network, and this is when relativistic effects take place. Although the science is a little beyond me, the way I understood it is that they act much like a wormhole, although at some point I knew we left behind regular space and entered into a kind of adjacent dimension, call a brane. I’ve heard scientists talking about strings that interact with the branes, and pull us along or something, but it all gets messed up in my head and I feel dumber every time someone tries to explain it to me. The description that works for me is that a string connects the Jump Gates to each other, through another brane, and we travel along outside along the string, to the other brane and back into our brane. Moreover, it takes a couple of months to do that. Inside our ship, it only takes us a few days at most. Therefore, most interstellar travellers, such as Maxine and I, experience the passage of time a little differently to those who spend most of their life on one side of a Jump Gate.

Most of the time you spend in a star ship is moving from one point in the star system to another. This can take about two weeks per Astronomical Unit, depending on your propulsion rig. An AU, which is how spacer travellers measure distance in space, represents an old measurement from the earliest days of space travel. It’s roughly one hundred and fifty million kilometres, the average distance ancient Earth was from the Sun.

While we travelled advertisements from various establishments and services were showing up in my vision. The station network had finished logging us into the Cluster wireless and we were bombarded with the usual tourist hooks and flashy adverts that would have once been displayed on garish physical billboards in real space, not beamed directly to our brains. A simple thought and the ads were blocked. I looked over at Max and saw her staring into space, her eyes darting in small movements. She always found a few interesting ads to view, so I left her to her reading.

I called up the cab’s display in my vision and checked the ETA of our trip. I still had some time to kill, so I opened my personal messaging service. In moments, my vision was filled with a few dozen messages, the usual amount after being disconnected from a network for a few months. I scanned the subject fields for anything interesting. A newsletter for a gun enthusiasts group I subscribe to, an invitation to trial a new material from Cortez’ Armoury, an email from my old PSMC doctor. Did I mention that I like guns? And armour.

Cortez’ Armoury was an exceptional energy weapon and personal armour store on the Corus Cluster, one I made a point of visiting every time I was on station. I talk guns with the locals there, and every now and then, it pays off, like today. I had an invite to try out a new armour composite they just got in. They’re looking for actives, slang for active operators that sometimes get into violent, messy or just dangerous encounters from time to time. Did I mention that space could be dangerous? So, they wanted people like me to try out this new material and give the store some feedback. I’d been looking for a new fibre to mix on my armoured space suit. My days of jumping out of space ships and launching myself at enemy ships were behind me (I hoped) but the M4 Marine Armoured Extravehicular Laminate Suit, or just M4 MAEL, came in handy many times. It was somewhat heavy though, when you’re not weightless, which is when I tend to wear it most of the time these days. Hopefully, this new stuff was lightweight.

The cab AI dutifully informed us that we were nearing our destination. I closed up my messaging app and started up my local tactical app. I could see Maxine was getting ready too, drawing out her hold out blaster and pairing it with her Overlay Interface. I pulled out my PX-2 and activated a control on its grip. Instantly an icon appeared which I acknowledged and a small, nearly invisible marker appeared in my vision, tracking to where ever I pointed my gun. When I was happy with its calibration, I holstered my side arm and stepped out of the cab. A small box appeared in my vision, with the words ‘Connecting to local surveillance. Please wait.’ flashing. A couple of seconds later they vanished and I scanned the crowd nearby with my eyes. When I closed my eyes, I could see faint outlines of where people were milling about, going about their business in the sector. Occasionally a small red indicator appeared on some of the outlines, identifying weapons that were picked up by local cameras and other sensors that I was now connected to.

The tactical app I was using wasn’t entirely legal. I’d picked it up during an operation I was involved with back when I was with the Star Marines. We were operating in a heavily populated area and needed to distinguish between hostiles and civilians. Our benefactor was a part time asset of the Kanto Intelligence Agency, and he helped us install the app, mask it from command and allowed us to do our jobs without endangering innocent bystanders. I didn’t see the need to uninstall it once I’d mustered out. It’s only useful in a friendly network system, and discretely hacks into local surveillance feeds to gather data on possible threats nearby. I’m sure it has a few other uses too, but how do you get someone to show you how to use an illegal app without admitting you have one?

I gave Max a nod and we walked to the entrance to the station sector, past the usual assortment of street vendors and commuters. We joined a queue of people waiting to pass through an airlock that led into the sector proper, and soon we were in a large compartment that must have once been a hangar bay or other large storage facility. This was a sector called Millard’s Quarter, and it’s what passed for the red light district of the Corus Cluster. It was early, so the usual clientele were mostly absent, just daytime traders and travellers were about. A few shady characters congregated in small groups, eyeing people who got too close, or perhaps casing them for later on. Several bars were open, but were not yet competing for the loudest din or the most colourful lights, and crowds weren’t at their shoulder-to-shoulder density.

The air in here was warm and smelly, like sweat or unwashed bodies. Not unusual in a space station with a high population density. There was also a melange of cooking smells, as the various bistros and bar grills did their thing before all people wanted was liquid nourishment. Maxine and I pushed our way through the area, soon arriving before a bar with a narrow entrance, but with a large palatial facade that could only be described as garish. True to its theme, a large sign flashed with the words ‘The Crystal Lounge’ overhead and we went in.

Inside was interesting, all the walls were made to resemble natural rock formations, as if we were moving into a cave system. Cleverly placed lights lit our way, making it appear dark, but without making it hard to see where we were going. A small counter was unmanned, but displayed several flyers informing us of live performances or other events taking place soon. We passed the dimly lit counter and made our way into the Lounge main bar.

The Crystal Lounge itself was a large grotto-like cavern, with a round central bar servicing a dance floor and several booths arranged in a tiered fashion surrounding the bar. All about were dozens of protruding crystal formations, as if they’d grown in the cave. The effect, and the ambiance, was almost surreal. It wasn’t hard to imagine that I was actually deep inside a cavern filled with crystals. The crystals themselves caught and refracted subtle lights, and splayed them out across the visible spectrum at all angles.

The dance floor was empty, and only a few people other than the bartender were in the Lounge. Music, from last year’s charts, played from hidden speakers, not too loudly, so people could still carry on a conversation.

“Show time. There’s Isaac. Go grab a beer.” said Max. I complied, stepping through a writhing hologram of undulating water to get to the bar.

The bar tender eyed me off, guess he wasn’t used to serving people this early. He looked even surlier once I asked for a water. Not only was I making him work, but I wasn’t handing over any money to the establishment either. His maudlin mood didn’t inspire me to leave a tip, my subtle way of saying go screw yourself.

I sipped my sourly served water and scanned the man that Maxine had walked up to, and then widened my search for any accomplices. I noted that the water tasted somewhat bad, and placed the tumbler on the bar counter. There! I spotted two guys near the rear secreted into a booth, both paying particular interest to my Captain and Isaac Cameron. One was definitely armed, according to my tactical app, and I could bet that his sidekick was armed as well.

Maxine was standing with her hands on her hips, in a posture that I’d come to learn meant she was dressing down someone, and I could see Isaac was trying to placate her, making feeble apologetic gestures. He indicated a booth nearby, and offered to lead Max over to it. She held up her hand and gestured for me to come over. I left my foul tasting water and joined them as they sat down in the booth.

“Isaac, this is Seth Donovan, the First Mate of the Dreaming of Atmosphere.” offered Max. I shook his offered hand and kept silent. A second later, an indicator on my display noted that there had been a deposit in my credit account.

“There. As promised. Payment in full, Captain Cooper.” said Isaac. His accent was Eridanian, his clothes were Harakiwan, and his two thugs were Argessi Argen. A cosmopolitan man. I told him as much.

“The well-travelled is the well-educated, Mr Donovan. I like to take a piece of every place I visit into my being. Men of my station require such displays of our social standing, much like the Corporate men display their own wealth in everything that they do and are.”

“Is that what you are? A Corporation man?”

“No, Mr Donovan, I am small fish compared to them, I assure you. My wealth is in my connection to the worlds that I travel, not in my credit accounts.”

“So why the hassle to pay us? We did your last job. We’ve done a few for you before too. What’s the deal? We haven’t had to jump through hoops to get paid before.”

“He’s a blunt one, isn’t he, Captain Cooper?” he turned to Max.

“He’s also sharp, Isaac, he cut through your bullshit in 20 seconds. Why don’t you answer him?” Max wasn’t in the mood to dance either, it seemed.

“Ok. You got me. I wanted you here to meet someone.”

“That’s it? Why not tell us over the net? Why the rigmarole?”

“Well, I wanted to motivate you to ensure you actually came. My friend does not like to be given the run around either, and when someone such as I tell him I can arrange a meeting with someone, he expects results. Here you are. I’ve let him know you’re here and he’ll be here shortly.”

“Who is it?” Max’s tone said she wasn’t happy being strung along like this. I couldn’t blame her. Neither did I. I checked the two goons in the back. I could see their outlines clearly through the back of the booth behind Isaac. By now, my app had picked up the second thug’s weapon as well, confirming my suspicion.

“He’s a man of standing in these parts. A benefactor of many enterprises around the station and within the Argessi System.”

“You mean he’s a crime boss?” Ok, now I know Max was pissed.

“He’s a business man. Some of his business may be legally questionable, but he’s a straight shooter.”

“Ok, we’re done, Donny. Let’s get out of here.” We stood, so did Isaac. So did his two thugs, I could see. I put my hand on my PX-2 and looked at him deadpan.

“Tell your thugs in the back to sit back down, or I put two into your chest right now.”

He looked startled, and then his composure returned. He turned around and gestured to the two Argen and they slowly sat back down.

“Now then, “ began Isaac as he turned back to face us, “There’s no need for this, Mr Jenner only wants to make you a job offer, nothing more.”

“We don’t work for criminals, Cameron, you know this.” accused Max, her finger jabbing at Isaac’s expensive Harakiwan suit.

“Not knowingly, right?” came a new voice from over my shoulder. Damn, he’d gotten the drop on me. Max is going to be having words about this with me I was sure. We all turned to see a shorter than average male of a species I wasn’t able to identify right away. One of the many races that make up the minority in galactic society. He was one of the races that could pass for human at a glance, but subtle differences were clear if one looked for longer than a moment. A near human, society would call him. He had dark, almost black hair, sharp small eyes and a straight nose that ended at a point. His tailored suit was almost metallic; it shimmered and caught the refracted light majestically. “My name is Benedict Jenner. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Maxine Cooper.”

Jenner offered his hand to the stunned Maxine; she eyed it as if it were a snake, but took it after a moment’s hesitation. She gave me a slight nod, and we sat.

“What are you talking about, Jenner?” asked Max

“I mean that several of your latest exploits are well known to me. Because you were working for me.”

Max gave Isaac a dirty look, and he shrank back into his seat taking his drink with him.

“Suppose I just take your word for that. It changes nothing. I don’t do work for criminals.”

“I’m not asking you to do anything illegal. I merely want someone I can trust.”

“Sorry, that trust has to flow both ways. I’m not getting my crew mixed up in your schemes, or anyone else who doesn’t pass my asshole detector.”

His courteous, refined veneer cracked slightly and the corner of his smile dipped by a fraction. Max might not have noticed it, as she was in the middle of a tirade, but I definitely did. I also noticed a few more ‘patrons’ had entered the bar, placing themselves at covering angles. They didn’t even order drinks first. Maybe they already knew how the water tasted.

“Ms Cooper…”

“Captain Cooper.” interrupted Max.

“Captain Cooper, all I ask is that you hear me out. I have a very generous offer, for a task that is well within your capabilities, and within the law I assure you.”

“Let me guess, it’s an offer I can’t refuse?”

“You’d be passing on a once in a lifetime opportunity. How many Captains can say they paid off their starship within their command?” Now he had Max’s attention.

Star ships, I should point out at this point, are expensive. Ridiculously expensive. First owner Captains who purchase a ship do so knowing they enter into multi-generational debt cycles, taking loans out from one of several galaxy-spanning mega-corporations – the world builders and terraformers who wield nearly limitless wealth and power. Passing their Captaincy on to a new Captain is not just a handing over of the codes and the stateroom; it’s a legally binding act that transfers all remaining debt onto the new Captain of the ship. A Captain that doesn’t earn, either for their crew or for the debtors, will lose the ship. It’s an act of trust and responsibility, an honour and a curse to be chosen to succeed a retiring Captain. When a ship is paid in full, the reigning Captain essentially becomes a sovereign nation unto themselves, beholden to none, indebted to none, with the whole galaxy at their fingertips to enjoy. If they chose to sell their ship shortly afterwards…well, I did mention that starships are expensive didn’t I?

“I have a measure of pull with some of the Corporations that ply their trade in the Votus-Eridani Network. I can trade a few favours to have what remains of the debt on the Dreaming of Atmosphere to evaporate.”

“That’s quite a feat, if you’re telling me the truth.” She looked at Jenner, seeming to see him for the first time.

“I told you, Maxine,” offered Isaac, “He’s a straight shooter. Always has been.”

She looked at Isaac, then back to Jenner. She seemed to be weighing her choices.

“What’s the catch?”

“No catch. A simple courier job. Only one complication. A big one, I’ll admit, hence the pay out.”

“You do realise,” I said, “that’s pretty much what the definition of a catch is, right?”

“Semantics.” waved away Jenner.

“I’ll ask again, what’s the catch?” asked Max, getting more like her usual wary self.

“The destination. Ambrose Station.”

It hit me like a hammer. Memories, half repressed, half haunting me every time my mind was idle. Ambrose Station.

Gossamer System.

“Fuck, no.” rejected Max.

4.

Ever had those moments when everything just sort of shifted focus, when your mind kind of takes a step back and it’s like you’re watching the world, and yourself, from two feet behind you? My mouth went dry. My skin broke out in a cold sweat. I was having trouble hearing the rest of the conversation.

“Absolutely not, Mr Jenner.” I think that was Max, but I couldn’t be sure.

“I am not a man often refused, Ms Cooper.” I could see Jenner’s goons moving from their perches in my peripheral vision, but I didn’t know what that meant.

“It’s Captain Cooper, asshole, and you can get used to being disappointed, we’re leaving. Now.” She stood up, grabbed my arm and made to move me out of the booth so she could leave.

“Let’s not do something foolish, Ms Cooper!”

“Maxine!” said someone who sounded like Isaac, “Think about it! The Dreaming could be yours!”

“Fuck you, Isaac, and fuck you too, Jenner. Move, Seth!” she gave me a shove and I almost fell out of the booth. I didn’t though. I stood and in one smooth motion drew my gun and shot through the booth, hit one of Isaac’s thugs who had drawn on us.

The gun he had drawn flew out of his dead hands, clattering to the ‘cavern’ floor. Suddenly, I was in full control of my senses once more. Action has a way of doing that to me. Jenner dove under the booth’s table, Isaac almost jumped on top of him. I grabbed Max and twirled her around, almost throwing her onto the ground behind the booth as two bright energy bolts hammered into the tabletop. Jenner’s goons where in high gear, grabbing cover and firing in my direction. My tactical app told me there were five of them, plus the one left over from Isaac’s pathetic posse. I took a knee and rolled to the left, coming up behind a crystal formation. Three swift bolts hit the booth, the floor I just rolled over and the crystal behind which I was crouched. The last one bounced away, refracted by the crystal, and went back towards to bar causing the bar tender to hit the deck behind the counter.

I pulled out a party popper, pressed the activator and tossed it towards the nearest couple of goons on the dance floor.

POP!

A bright flash and a loud pop preceded two screams of pain as the two goons went down, their hands clasped over their ears and eyes. I glanced back at Max; she had her hold out in her hands, crouched behind the booth. More energy blasts struck my crystal and careened off in random directions. Shit, this cover is going to get me killed! Or worse; get Maxine killed! I rose, popped a trio of shots off towards the three remaining Jenner goons, and ran over to the next booth towards the exit. I felt a shot scorch my shoulder as I ran, but my ablative coat dissipated most of the energy. When I was in, I eyed Max and she nodded. I rose again and peppered shots as fast as I could towards the enemy, forcing their heads down. Max used the distraction to run towards me, firing off a shot as she went.

We were now facing off across the central bar on either side of the lounge, three Jenner goons plus one Isaac goon. Jenner and Isaac were still under the table, hopefully urinating in their expensive suits. I could still hear the two stunned goons crooning on the dance floor. I love my party poppers.

“What now?” shouted Max in my ear.

“We make a break for the door, first chance we get!”

“You know there’s going to be more out there, right?”

“Yep.”

“And?”

“I’m thinking!”

“Hurry up!”

She tucked herself closer to the booth as shots pounded the booth and the ground around us. I peeked around the edge of the booth and snapped off a shot. I was rewarded with a pain filled shout, although I didn’t think it was fatal, just an arm shot. I heard one of them shout something, catching the word ‘flank’ and I went into action again. I switched sides with Max and fired out from the other side of the booth, almost hitting another goon as he dove across the bar and fell down behind the counter. I had an idea. I fired several shots into the liquor shelved behind the bar counter. Several of them popped and spilled their contents down onto the two below. The barman rose up in a panic and dove over the counter to crash down onto the floor below and I used the distraction to hit another goon in the chest. The other hit the deck.

“Go!” I yelled. Maxine scrambled towards the door, head down firing blindly towards the bar. A stray shot hit one of the puddles of liquid that had formed after my antics, igniting it. A swooshing sound followed by screaming told me the unfortunate goon still under the bar would also not be leaving a tip for the barman today. In the chaos, I made a break for the door as well.

As soon as I was into the passage that lead to the entrance, I stopped. Halfway up the passage was Maxine, sitting on another goon’s chest and pistol-whipping him repeatedly with her hold out blaster.

“Come on!” I yelled as a jumped over her. I got to the doors and took a peak. The streets were starting to get busy, but I could see a group of mean looking thugs waiting for us out there. They didn’t seem alerted to the gunfight, however. That would change, as soon as Jenner poked his head out from under his table and called them. On the other hand, maybe not.

I rummaged through a satchel slung around my shoulder and pulled out my scrambler. I hesitated before activating it. If I set this, the local authorities won’t be alerted either. Not before we wouldn’t need them anymore.

“Do it.” said Max from behind me. She didn’t look too ruffled by the recent gunfight, or the beating. She was still adjusting her strap though. “Quit looking at my tits and scramble those assholes”

“Yes, ma’am.” I hit it, tucked it onto the counter by the entrance and casually stepped out the door, Max close behind me.

The goons, about seven or eight of them, eyed us suspiciously. As far as they were concerned, everything was fine and the meeting was over. I nodded to them. I kept walking towards the crowd. We almost made it.

The door to the Crystal Lounge burst open, the last goon, the one I’d shot in the arm earlier stumbled out and let off a spray of energy blasts into the crowd before he saw us and retrained his aim. We bolted, everyone bolted, everyone screamed. The goons shouted and ran after us. I tossed my last party popper behind me, hoping I didn’t just ruin a bunch of civilians’ night for nothing and headed towards an access hatch down a side alley up ahead.

“In here!” I shouted, yanking off the grill and turning to guard the alley entrance. Two goons ran into view and I shot at them, forcing them to dive back out of the way. I could hear Max calling for me as she dove head first into the duct. I dove in after her. We slid for about thirty seconds, almost straight down. That can’t be good, I thought. Max started to slow her descent with her legs and hands, but I kept slipping and falling onto her. We kept going down, and eventually a curve began to form. We slid for another minute before the curve allowed us to stop altogether. We were both banged up and bruised, covered in foul tasting water and had friction burns on our hands. We were both panting, catching our breath. Max spoke first.

“Well my strap broke. I’m pretty sure my good bra did too.”

I laughed; Max joined me for a few moments.

“Where are we?” I asked.

“Down a drain, it would seem.”

“I can see that. Wow, I can smell that too! What kind of drain?”

“The kind you don’t jump head first into with your mouth open.”

“Couldn’t be helped. I was screaming, and I think I swallowed some of that water.”

“Me too. I wasn’t screaming though, that was all you, Donny.”

“Liar, I’m pretty sure I heard a squeal as we went down.”

“That was me yelling ‘Weeeeeee!’ I don’t squeal.”

“Like a little girl, it was.”

“Shut up or I’ll punch you.”

“You mean pistol whip? That was a guy at least twice as big as you, back there, you know?”

“I think he screamed louder than you did, actually.”

“If he’s alive still, I bet he’ll tell Jenner it was me that did it.”

“Probably. I think one of his teeth is stuck in the barrel of my hold out. Should I keep it to prove it was me?”

“Ha, we’ll more than likely need to shoot with it again before the day is out.”

“Out of charge. That’s the problem with these small guns. They go flat real fast.”

“No problem, here.” I tossed her one of my spare batteries, and popped mine out and reloaded.

“I thought you’d have been out for sure, the amount of wild shots you made!”

“Uh, uh. I meant to hit the bar. And the floor. And the wall behind the goons. And that table.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t a fan of the décor either.” She reloaded and we began to take stock of our surroundings.

“Well, looks like it goes down, no openings that I can see.” She said.

“Down it is then.”

5.

The drain continued for another hundred metres or so before we found a grate covering an opening that dropped down into a long tunnel. I lifted the grate, lowered Max down and then dropped down after her. My shoulder was a little sore, where I’d caught a round in the firefight at the Lounge. Max saw me rubbing my shoulder and wincing.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, jacket took most of the heat, just a bit tender.”

She gave me one of her ‘looks’.

“I’m fine. Really. You’re not the lightest woman in the galaxy, you know?”

That earned me a kick in the shins, but she smiled regardless. We started to look around. The tunnel was made from some carbon composite, the kind used in massive starship and space station construction for making large sections of plumbing or other fluid transfer systems. A sludgy, pungent channel flowed through the centre of the tunnel, the fluid dark and lumpy in places. This was clearly a sewer. Max scrapped algae off some signage, revealing a directional arrow and some words.

“Water treatment. Should be able to get top side from there. Let’s go.”

She started at a brisk pace, and I was struggling to keep up with her. I kept having to steady myself, or risk slipping on the grime encrusted, narrow walkway beside the river of doom. I was a bit larger that Max, and she had plenty of room to walk. We scrambled and slithered our way like eels down a pipe towards the water treatment compartment for at least a couple of hours. Our Interface Overlays were out of range of any networks, so we didn’t have any communications with the rest of the station to warn the rest of the crew. I could see Maxine was worried, I could tell by her pace that she wanted to get out of here as fast as we could. I slipped a couple of times, falling on my arse and getting myself a healthy coating of filth on my clothes.

“Do you know how many species have pooped in this water?” I said after my latest fall.

“A few hundred, at least. You make sure you bathe before you sit down in my bridge again.”

“Yeah, thanks. I think I’ll just toss these clothes out of the airlock.”

“Well, looks like we’re here.”

Maxine was right, up ahead was a service hatch and a sluice gate. We could hear the steady thrum of machinery. Luckily, the hatch was unlocked, and we climbed through to the other side. Hundreds of pipes fed into this compartment, which was huge. There were dozens of rusted and dirty tanks resting in a quagmire of the filth from our tunnel, and several others like it interspersed around the cylindrical compartment. They all fed their loads into the plant, in waterfalls of chunky sludge and dirty water. Giant machines were churning the sewage down below. We were standing on a circular iron walkway that circumnavigated the entire compartment, and I could see a long rusty ladder a few metres away that took us up to another platform fifty metres above us. All through the centre of the compartment were pipes and tanks, strung together like modules on a cargo freighter. The occasional inspection plate allowed us to see the contents of the pipes and tanks was steadily flowing upwards.

“Are they filtering this gunk?” I asked, as we made the next platform and found another ladder, climbing higher still.

“Yeah, eventually it will be crystal clear.”

“And then?”

“What do you think? They pump it back into the station.”

“And do what with it?”

“What do you normally do with water?”

I stopped climbing, horrified.

“This is the station’s water supply?” I felt sick.

“It’s perfectly fine, most self-contained habitats use a similar process. It does vary slightly, but the principle is the same. Water reclamation, it’s called. Nature has been doing it for billions of years.”

Now I knew why the water here tasted like shit. It was shit. Intellectually I knew Max was right, but my recent re-hydration attempt at the Crystal Lounge…well it left a bad taste in my mouth. Literally. I’m no germaphobe, but this was more than I could stomach.

Eventually we made it to the top platform, found a maintenance compartment and an exit on the other side of that. As we made to leave the water treatment plant from the Abyss, our Interface Overlays reconnected to the station network. Maxine quickly started pinging the crew. She couldn’t get through to them.

We hurried through the evening crowd that was moving through the streets above, stepping on toes and barging people aside. I think the fact that we stank like sewage actually worked in our favour as anyone who turned to have a go at us took one whiff and recoiled. Max flagged down a cab and we jumped in.

“Berth 232, Terrace Depot,” she barked at the AI.

“Please fasten your harnesses. Enjoy the sights of the Corus Cluster spinal corridor and surrounds…” began the robotic voice

“Shut up and drive, cab. And hurry!”

The cab sped away onto the main access corridor.

“What do you think this means?” asked Max, concern weighing heavily on her features.

“That Jenner has had our crew rounded up and either shot or locked away somewhere.” I said calmly, looking out the window at the station speeding by.

“I’m going to kill the little bastard.”

“Let’s just get back to the Dreaming, see if we can pull up some data on them, maybe they got a message through to the ship before they were taken out.”

“I’m going to cut his hands off and slap him to death with them.”

“Max…”

“I’m going to cut him open and feed him his own guts.”

“Max! We need to focus here. We need to…”

“I am focused, damn it!”

“On staying alive! On getting out of here without ending up as galab bait! If the crew is alive, we need to find them and get them to the Dreaming!”

“I know that!” We were screaming red faced at each other. A few seconds of staring and we both calmed down and I began scanning local news. It wasn’t long before I found a mention of the Crystal Lounge shoot out.

“You look good on the news, by the way. For an old lady.”

Maxine laughed a little and smiled at me.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. You’re doing fine.”

“How are you holding up? Want to talk about the Lounge?”

I knew she meant when I froze up at the beginning. Or that I missed Jenner sneak up on us. I wasn’t in the mood for that kind of conversation just now, I had my mind on other things. I figured that there was no way all the crew went down without a fight of their own, and if our little scuffle warranted a news mention, maybe they got some airtime as well. I told Max my theory. We both started scanning the news.

About a minute later, Max gave a little chuckle.

“Crege, that crazy bird.” She flicked me the article she’d found. It showed a short film of a chaotic rumble in one of the Terrace Depot dockside bars, featuring our very own pilot. Apparently, as they tried to grab him he’d drawn his lurzak blade and fought back. A lurzak is a traditional Garz’a weapon, dating back thousands of years. They’d built a deadly martial art around its use, which steadily incorporated more modern techniques and styles. The modern lurzak contains a capacitive charge that sends a shocking burst of electricity into whomever it connects. The Garz’a fighting style favours quick strikes and early initiative. This plays into the Garz’a habit of acting before thinking, and has made them one of the most respected fighting beings in the galaxy. A properly trained Garz’a warrior is fast, nimble and deadly in close range, and most Garz’a learn at least a few years of training in the art.

By all accounts, Crege had given a good accounting of himself and eyewitnesses had mentioned that he’d held off his attackers for a good ten minutes before a stun grenade had dropped him to his knees. No less than seven thugs had piled on top of him, and he was hastily dragged into a waiting air vehicle.

Strange, I thought personal vehicles were banned inside the station? I said as much to Max. She nodded.

“Jenner’s got some pull, all right. Notice that there were no police or security forces moving to intervene either?”

“At least we know he’s still alive, or was about an hour ago.”

“We’re pulling up to Terrace Depot now.”

The cab pulled to a stop by a platform that served as a loading bay for tourists, and we stepped off after paying our fee. Max stiffened beside me, eyes wide and catching my attention. She held her hand to her ear, and I knew she was receiving a call on her interface.

“Fel! Are you ok? Yes, he’s here with me. Is anyone hurt? They what? We’re about five minutes away. Okay, it’s going to be all right, you hear me? You tell the others that for me. Promise!”

“What’s going on?” I asked

“Jenner’s got everyone at the Dreaming. Everyone’s ok, he says, besides a beating laid out on Crege. Apparently, they’ve been taking some equipment aboard the ship. About twenty guys, he said. Plus Jenner, Isaac and some woman.”

“How do you want to play this?”

“He’s got us by the balls. I’m not giving up my ship. We’ll see what he wants, he could have killed them all or at least hurt them badly but he didn’t. That could mean we still got some room here.”

“I don’t like this, Max. Too many unknowns.”

“Fel says Jenner told him to call me, to tell me to come down or he starts executing the crew.”

We’d reached the entrance to berth 232, and slowed down our brisk pace. We could see down the retractable platform where the Dreaming sat, her gangway still open. Men were walking up and down the ramp, taking tools and boxes of equipment away. I could see the crew lined up below the ship, between the landing struts and the starboard emission vent. Half a dozen armed thugs guarded them with energy rifles.

Jenner stood a few metres away chatting with Isaac and a woman. She was wearing tight, black pants and a dark red blouse tucked into a wide leather belt that sported a custom holster rig and an honest to god ballistic pistol. She wore it on her hip as if she knew how to use it, her hand never straying too far from it. She stood with her hips canted to the side, in an almost seductive way, a remote of some kind in her hand with her other resting on her waist. She had short, red tipped hair and –oof!

“Quit perving,” chided Max, punching me in the side, “put your game face on!”

“Right! I wasn’t, I mean, okay let’s do this.”

We marched down the platform towards Jenner and company, and no sooner had we stepped into sight then most of the thugs dropped what they were carrying and trained their rifles in our direction. I noticed that the six that were guarding our crew were well trained enough not to drop their guard and they remained standing watch over people. Jenner gestured to the guards and they lowered their aim, but didn’t relax completely. One of the closest goons to Jenner said something to him and Jenner shook his head. The goon sneered and it was then that I noticed his bruised and swollen features. It was the guy Max had beaten with her gun.

“I knew I should have kept that tooth.” She said out of the corner of her mouth.

“Ms Cooper! Glad you could join our little soiree.”

“What are you doing to my ship?” she demanded.

“Adding a few modifications. Please. Your weapons, if you don’t mind?”

“I mind.” I offered, taking a step forward. This earned me a dozen rifles pointed at my face.

“I insist. We wouldn’t want any of my guards to accidentally shoot one of your friends in the face. I told them you would be handing them over to us without any more unpleasant violence.”

“It’s ok, Seth, do what he says.”

I belatedly disarmed myself and held my PX-2 out for Jenner. I noticed Max didn’t offer up her gun, tucked as it was…somewhere on her person. It was then that I noticed the woman with Jenner walking around behind us, and I turned my head to keep her in my line of sight. She was smiling a predatory grin at me. Max was doing her best to ignore her. The woman stepped up close to Max and one hand snaked around her waist and roved up under her grimy vest and shirt. Max stiffened, but kept a straight face, and the women pulled her hand out from under Max’s shirt with the hold out blaster in it. She walked back around, passing behind me and running a hand across my butt. She’s going to have to wash her hands now, I thought. The woman walked back to Jenner and took my gun from him.

“Okay, you have us. You have my crew, and you have my ship. Now what?” Maxine demanded, fire in her eyes.

“What I originally offered. You take a courier job for me into the Gossamer System and deliver it to Ambrose Station. Only now, I see that I need to motivate you properly. I’ve taken the liberty to install several crippling explosive charges about your ship. Not enough to destroy it, but enough to gut it so that it will be nothing but an engineless hulk. You go out into the deep dark ocean of stars and do my job. You meander about, take too long, and the charges go off. You tamper with the charges, they go off.

“I’m sending my agent, Ms Artemis Derris, along with you to act in my interests. If she deems you unworthy of the task, she’ll remotely activate the charges. If they go off for any reason, be it through failing to meet any of my demands or by Artemis’ hand, I’ll be notified, I’ll send a heavy transport full of mercenaries to reclaim my package and Ms Derris, and then we’ll scuttle your ship along with all of you.

“Any questions?”

“Why us?” asked Max, shaking with barely contained rage.

“I’ve invested a lot of time looking for just the right crew, the right ship for the job. I don’t have time to keep looking, but I’d rather just have you all killed right now if you refuse me again and take my chances with a mercenary crew.”

“You won’t get away with this, Jenner.”

“Spare me the empty threats, just tell me you’ll take the job and you’re free to start right away.”

Max glared at Jenner for a full minute. I could see her eyes wander to her crew, lined up against the hull of the Dreaming. They were all standing and watching with interest. She didn’t need to look at me, I just reached out and touched her wrist.

“Okay. Give me the package.”

“It’s already on board. Ms Derris will show you where it is, ensure it’s not molested with by any curious crew.”

At that, he clicked his heels and walked past us, the goon with the missing teeth a step behind and Isaac following, his head down. Soon, all the goons left and we were alone with our crew and our new passenger. We all gathered around and tried our best to intimidate the stranger among us, showing her we were not happy with her around. She gave us a bright smile and sauntered over to me, and stepped up close. I felt her hands reach around me and holster my gun. She then pulled the front of my pants open and dropped Maxine’s hold out into my trousers. I pulled back with a gasp, and reached in to retrieve it.

“Keep it.” Declared Max as she turned and walked up the gangway in a dark mood.

Artemis kept smiling at us as she turned and followed her. She hadn’t said a single word the entire time. The rest of the crew and I rushed up the gangway afterwards and started stowing our gear and prepping for take-off.

6.

True to her word, Maxine kicked me out of the command module when I tried to sit down. She shooed me out and told me to get changed, get clean and go see Zoe about my shoulder. Fel and Crege were there already, flipping switches and going through the start-up checklist like professionals. Crege actually didn’t look too bad. A new cut on his beak, a black eye and a cut above his other.

I ran back out of the bridge down the central passage of the upper deck, heading for my berthing compartment. As First Mate, I rated my own cabin, small though it was. The Captain, of course, had her own. Fel and Crege shared a cabin one deck below, in the main living spaces, as did Eric and Mal, and Hergo and Denno. Zoe had the last cabin to herself, since it wouldn’t be proper to bunk her with one of the guys. I guess she’ll be sharing it now. I reached my cabin and threw open the hatch.

“Or not…” I muttered to myself. Artemis was in my cabin, sitting on my bunk. Two military style duffle bags sat on the floor before her. “Err…can I help you?”

“I’m sorry, was this your cabin?” Her voice was smooth, like liquid mercury. It almost sounded like she was purring. She casually reached down and began to undo the laces on her boots, the kind that ran halfway up her calves.

“Was? Is. This is my cabin, and I’m in dire need of a shower and a change of clothes.”

“Don’t let me stop you.” That amused, predatory grin again.

“Huh?” I can be stupid sometimes, especially where women are concern.

“You have two bunks here. Plenty of room. I don’t snore.”

“You don’t snore?” I sounded like I was having trouble hearing, “You want to bunk with me?”

“Is there a problem?”

“Uh, wouldn’t you rather bunk with a female?”

“I hardly think the Captain would appreciate me sharing her cabin.”

“I meant Zoe!”

“The pretty little girl with a medical degree? No thanks, she’d talk my ear off.”

“But…but…” I stammered.

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of women? Do I intimidate you?”

“A little, yeah!”

“I promise I won’t bite. Unless you screw up the job, then I do bite.” At that, she gestured to the small remote device she was carrying when I first saw her. I stared at it for a moment. Then I looked back at her. She was still smiling that evil little grin. I sighed in defeat and began taking off what equipment I had left and putting them back away in a locker I keep in my cabin for just such a purpose. When finished, I glanced longingly at the small shower stall in my cabin.

“Do you mind?” I asked, indicating the stall.

“Not at all, go right ahead.” She leaned back on her arms behind her and kept watching. So that’s how it’s gunna be? I thought. I started stripping down my ruined clothes, pausing briefly when I was down to my last undergarment and turned to look sheepishly at her. She sighed and pretended to be inspecting something under her fingernail. I quickly undressed and jumped into the stall, pulling the opaque screen door closed behind me. My troubles evaporated almost immediately with the release of hot water and I began scrubbing at my grime-caked body. I let the hot water massage my muscles, and felt my tender shoulder once more. Maybe I should let Zoe look at it.

By the time I was finished, we were underway and when I left the shower Artemis was gone. Thankful for a moment of privacy I dried off and grabbed a change of clothes, a simple jumpsuit with many pockets favoured by star ship travellers the galaxy over. I went below decks to look for Zoe, and found her in the med lab on the second deck, aft of the living spaces. The med lab isn’t big, or even very well equipped, but it has all the necessary equipment needed to patch up an energy burn, a broken limb or a cut from sparing. It also has a minor surgery rig for basic operations and two bunks for observation. This is where Zoe spends most of her time, and she even brought with her a top of the line Aug maintenance kit with her from the university on Kanto Prime. Her passion, she told me once, is cybernetics and biological Augs. She only got into medicine to get familiar with the principles of Bios, and cybernetics is her hobby. She’s going to have field day on me today, though.

“Zoe, I need you to take a look at me, please?” I startled her, absorbed on equipment, connecting several cables to a small box I didn’t recognise.

“Oh, sure thing, are you okay? What happened? Are you hurt? Wow, wasn’t that a rush out there! I was so scared!”

“Zoe, I’m fine, I just need you to take a look at my shoulder. I took an energy blast to it earlier.”

“You were shot?!” she almost dropped the small screwdriver she was holding.

“It hit my ablative jacket, but I have an Aug where it hit.”

“You’re augmented?” this caught her off guard. She’d never given me ‘the medical’ that she did on the other crew. I’d always avoided her as often as I could. Maybe this was why.

“Yeah, reconstructive.” I explained as I folded down the top half of my jump suit.

“Oh wow! You have got to let me tinker with you!” She started to probe my shoulder and arm with her fingers. “Human Industries Model 398 Synthetic skin, is that a Class 4 cybernetic limb? And the shoulder? I’d say that’s a Suus-Van FX-91!”

“93, actually. There’s also a synthetic lung, a hybrid neuro-cord shunt and my breast bone is titanium alloy.” She stared at me for a few moments, the first time I’d seen her speechless. It didn’t last.

“What happened to you?”

“Long story. From my time with the Star Marine Corps.”

“I’ve…I’ve never seen someone with such extensive augmentation. The whole left side of your torso must have been almost completely destroyed?!”

“Yeah, I’m not really comfortable talking about it. Most of the crew don’t know either. Please keep it that way.”

“Of course.” She was suddenly professional. Say what you will about her more annoying personality traits, I know Max wouldn’t have taken her on board if she wasn’t good. Zoe started inserting small electrodes into my synthetic skin around my shoulder and connecting them to various test equipment. She injected a solution into my upper arm and used a handheld scanner to trace around my shoulder once more. The whole process took less than ten minutes, but when she was done she told me I could pull my jump suit back up.

“Those nanites should repair any cellular disruption to your FX-93, I think you just had some overloaded syro-static converters from the energy blast. Should be back to normal by morning.”

“Thanks, doc. Sorry I’ve been a bit hard on you lately. I know I haven’t been the most sagely Space Daddy to you, and…”

“Are you kidding? You’re the best Space Daddy I’ve ever had!”

“Ah…okay. Well, thank you and let’s just keep the Augs between you and me, okay?”

“Doctor / patient confidentiality!”

“Right! Okay, I’d better go then.”

“I have some questions, actually, if you don’t mind?”

Inwardly I groaned, there she is, back to her usual self. But I figured I owed her, and yes, Max is right, I need to learn patience and introspection, etcetera.

“Okay, I’ll answer a few, but I have to get back on station in the command module.”

“Who was that man, Jenner? Why does he want us to go to the Gossamer System?”

“He’s a crime boss, and I’m not sure. Because he thinks we’re up to the task.”

“But I thought we don’t work from criminals?”

“We don’t. Maxine was coerced into it, as you saw at the docks.”

“Okay, do you think that lady will blow us up?”

“Artemis? No, I don’t think she will. I hope she won’t.”

“Will she be bunking with me? Should I talk to her when she does?”

“No, apparently she’s bunking with me. And you can talk to her if you like.”

“She’s bunking with you…but, you’re…you’re a guy!”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

“I mean, isn’t that little bit inappropriate?”

“I don’t think Artemis gives a shit about what’s appropriate and what’s not. I think she just enjoys making people feel uncomfortable. I figure it is part of her defence mechanism, or part of her arsenal of weapons. I think she’s someone who’ll use sex to get what she wants and…”

“Who said anything about sex? You’re not going to sleep with her are you?” she gasped, “You are! You’re already thinking about it, aren’t you?”

“What? No! I said…”

“You men are hopeless! I’ve been on this ship for almost nine months and you haven’t even made a single pass at me. She’s here for less than thirty minutes and already you’re jumping at the chance to get naked around her!”

“What?! I had no choice! She wouldn’t leave the cabin!”

“What?”

“What? Nothing!” I was flabbergasted, bamboozled and a jabbering mess. One thing did sink in though. “Wait, did you want me to hit on you?”

She threw a kidney pan at my head and narrowly missed me. She reached for the next nearest thing and I ran out of the med lab as if I was under fire. Zoe? No, she never ever, well she, I mean no, that’s completely inappropriate, I’m her Space Daddy!

“Talking to yourself again, Donovan?” I almost ran into Mal Cutler, I was so caught up in my thoughts.

“Sorry, Cuts.”

“And watch where you’re going! Starships are no place for addle brained wannabes!”

“Sure, Cuts. Thanks for the advice, bezak.”

I made my way back to the command module, pausing at each corner in the passageways and open hatches, hoping to avoid any more unpleasant and terrifying encounters with women. I literally threw myself into my seat with a loud huff, which earned me an eyeful from Fel and Crege, both of whom were still at their stations as we navigated away from the Corus Cluster.

“Where’s Max?” I asked.

“Having a shower. Problems?” returned Fel. I grunted.

“I’ve had better shore leave, human.” Declared Crege.

“Haven’t we all?” I retorted.

“You seem a bit strung out, my friend. Anything I can help you with?”

“Thanks Fel, but unless you have some secret Way technique for understanding women, I think I’m on my own here.”

“Women are meant to be loved, not to be understood.”

“Which of your ancient Orlii philosophers said that?”

“I believe it was Oscar Wilde, actually. One of your ancient earth philosophers.”

“Huh.” I grunted.

“Which particular woman are you in trouble with now?

“Take your pick. One wants to stay in my cabin and bunk with me, the other is pissed at me because I let it happen. I think she’s jealous.”

“Wait, human, which one is bunking with you?”

“The new one!”

“She is enemy, fool, a calak! She will slit your throat when you sleep!”

“Thanks, Crege, as if I don’t have enough nightmares already. Look, she was already in my cabin when I got there, and she wouldn’t leave. I somehow blurted out while talking to Zoe that I took a shower while she was there, and now she’s pissed at me. Something about me not hitting on her the whole time she’s been on board.”

“You are Space Daddy, not the way a warrior should act!”

“Right! That’s what I thought!”

“I agree with Crege, Seth, you hold a position of authority over Zoe, your role is to guide her in the abyss of space, not to pursue her.”

“Look, I agree with both of you. I’ve never even considered it.”

“And therein lies the problem.”

“You think I should sit down and explain it to her?”

“Yes!” “Yes!” they both shouted in unison.

“Okay, I will.” I stood to go.

“Not now, Seth!” said Fel as he grabbed my arm and pulled me back to my seat. Crege was chuffing and trilling in the front. I could tell the pair were having a good laugh at my expense. I let them. They were my friends, and we were heading into a very dangerous part of space. We’ll need all the laughter we can get if we’re to get through this next job. Did I mention that space was dangerous?

7.

Crege took the Dreaming of Atmosphere away from the Corus Cluster and soon we were far enough away from the habitat to engage our main propulsion drives. There was a slight tug on our bodies as inertia tried to have its way with our mass, but technology had long ago removed that inconvenience from space travel. Most top notch pilots like to set their stabilisers slightly below full capacity, a buffer they call ‘the soft zone’. Crege explains that to be a truly exceptional pilot you need to be able to feel the ship moving about you. To the rest of us, it just means a neck muscle workout and for Zoe a bout of motion sickness.

The majority of space travel is rather boring, an exercise in routine tasks and maintaining a healthy mental state. The generally accepted description of open space is empty, and the vast distances between points of interest, such as planets, space stations and Jump Gates, means that a pilot really only has to calculate the position of their destination at the time that they’ll reach it and then point the ship in that direction. The main propulsion drives do the rest. Once within a certain radius of a POI, short for point of interest, the crew is alert and we’ll generally close up on our consoles in the command module. This is known among spacers as closing up on station.

Traffic between the POIs can include anything from other star ships, debris from accidents or pirate attacks, and unauthorised or unregistered vehicles or stations. Asteroids can be a hazard as well, although the majority of them are identified, tracked and logged within a system wide navigational hazard database called MTAS – Message To All Spacers. Whenever a ship approaches within range of a station or other ship, the on-board computers automatically update their records and charts to indicate the paths and velocities of all known asteroids large enough to cause damage to a star ship. Smaller space rocks and debris is pushed aside by a forward projected energy field that nudges the debris aside. It’s not a hundred percent effective, however, and for this reason the most heavily armour part of a ship is the bow.

Sensors of various types provide another layer of defence against navigational hazards. Radar, infrared sensors, light wave emitters, gravity detectors and high definition cameras reach out in all directions of a ship, interrogating and inspecting anything they detect. All these signals are processed and analysed by the ship’s computers, flagging anything of note for crew input. Raw feeds of the data are also available, and shouldn’t be ignored.

Each ship does things differently, but most crews run routine shifts on duty in the command module. A good captain will ensure each watch keeper receives adequate training in reading and responding to the various MTAS and sensor inputs that need to be monitored regularly. By tradition, as First Mate, I was to stand the first watch after we reached stellar transit speeds, what we referred to as underway.

Fel’negr and Crege climbed out of the command module soon after we were underway and went down below decks. We knew Maxine would want to address the crew regarding our newest job, and the easiest place to do that would be the cargo hold. There were internal cameras in the hold that I could watch and listen, and I had access to a ship-wide PA system so I didn’t need to be there in person to tune in. Sure enough, about ten minutes after I had the bridge to myself, Maxine entered the compartment, her hair still damp from showering. She wore the same jump suit I wore.

“Before I call the crew, we need to talk.”

Shit, I thought, here it comes.

“Yeah, I figured it was coming.”

“Good, it’s a start that you realise you made mistakes. I’m not going to chew you out about Jenner sneaking up on you, but we need to talk about your PTSD.”

I sighed, “It’s been a while since I had an episode.”

“Yes it has, but you’re still having them. Should I be getting in contact with Dr Shale?”

“No, it’s just, I’d been thinking about a few of my old squaddies and then Jenner dropped that bomb on me. I don’t think I was mentally prepared, or something.”

“I’m worried about you. Especially considering where we’re headed.”

“I’m fine. Really. Won’t happen again.”

She looked at me like she didn’t believe me.

“Your inability to talk about Gossamer, and what happened, isn’t healthy. You need to deal with this. I need you on your A game. Normally, I’d let you deal with it on your own, like you’ve always done. But I can’t afford to do that this time.”

“I’m not sure I like where this is going.”

“You won’t. If you won’t talk to me about it, talk to your doctor.”

“Shale? He’s light years away, we don’t have time to see my shrink!”

“I’m not talking about Shale…”

“Who? Zoe? Not a lot of options out here, Max!”

“Why not Zoe?”

“You’re serious?”

“You think I only got her on the crew because she’s good with a bandage?”

“What do you mean?”

“When you came back to the Dreaming, you were a veteran of some major fucking combat actions. You had half of your torso blown away and replaced by machines and biological augmentations. Adjusting to that was rough, and you were doing double and triple shifts on the bridge because you didn’t sleep. When you weren’t on duty you were sparing with Crege for hours on end. You were taking apart and reassembling all our guns repeatedly. You were joining Eric and Cuts in the engine compartments almost as much as they were.”

“I was trying to bond with the crew!”

“You were trying to stay busy so that you didn’t have time to think!”

I was silent, mostly because she was right.

“You’re getting better. At least I thought you were. But it’s clear that you still have to deal with what happened to you.”

“And how does Zoe fit into this?”

“She knows how to keep your Augs in good condition, and she’s had training in psychological treatment as well as medicine.”

“So you hired her to take care of me?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, you both need taking care of.”

“So I’m her Space Daddy, and she’s my post-traumatic stress Mummy?”

“Don’t joke about it, Seth, I really need you. The crew needs you.”

I took a deep breath and blew it out, in defeat.

“Okay. I’ll try and talk to her. I think she’s mad at me though.”

“She’s a women, we’re always mad a men. Keeps you in line.”

“Speaking of lines…”

“The bitch?”

“Artemis.”

“Right. I’ll be talking with her right after I address the crew. Make the call. Cargo hold. Listen in.”

She stood up and hesitated. Her hand rested on my shoulder for a few seconds and I couldn’t look her in the eye. She walked out and when I could hear the compartment hatch shut I used the PA and piped the crew to the cargo hold. As I pushed the button I could see my hand shaking slightly and griped it tightly with my other hand.

I sat back and did some serious thinking. How was I going to talk to Zoe about my past? I didn’t even know how to bring it up with Max. It’s not that I become a jabbering wreck when I think about it, it’s just that I don’t know where to start, or where I’d become so undone. Maybe I should just talk to her, see where my thoughts end up. I just hoped she wasn’t going to still be pissed at me.

Soon, I could see the crew mustering down in the cargo hold on the security cameras and I switched audio on. When everyone was there, even Artemis, Max started doing her usual pacing, getting her thoughts together I knew.

“I’m sorry for the limited shore leave, things got pretty serious on the ‘Cluster and we’ve found ourselves with another job sooner than I’d liked” She started, giving Artemis a filthy look.

“On the bright side, Cuts didn’t have enough time to blow all his pay this time!” laughed Eric, slapping his counterpart on the back.

“So I’m going to just tell you all what our job is, so there’s no confusion. A certain criminal has decided to hold our ship hostage in order to facilitate the transference of one secure data package to Ambrose Station in the Gossamer System.”

“But that’s an exclusion zone!” cried Cuts, with several of the others joining him.

“I understand that. But this bastard Jenner says he’s put enough concealed bombs on board to gut the Dreaming permanently. If he thinks we’re pussy-footing about or we deviate from the plan, he’ll remotely set them off, and he’s put this little trollop on my ship to ensure we don’t mess with the plan.”

The two Argen hissed at her threateningly, and Crege pulled out his ever-present lurzak blade, stepping towards her.

“We kill her. Find bombs, throw out airlock.”

“You could try, little man, but even if you had the shirtan to kill me, I have the charges fixed with a dead man’s switch.” Offered Artemis, casually leaning against a crate of supplies.

“Yeah I figured you would,” said Max, “that’s why I had Fel lock you out of the Dreaming’s local network.”

“Ha-ha! I never said it was an app on my overlay, I have a biometric transmitter implanted.”

Max glared at Artemis for a few seconds before Fel interrupted.

“Captain, if I may? How will we get into the exclusion zone? Isn’t the Protectorate Fleet blockading the system’s Jump Gate?”

“Seth? You want this one?” offered Max, looking into the hold’s camera.

“Sure. The blockade is only a military one. Humanitarian missions are allowed to enter, provided they sign a waiver acknowledging that there will be no rescue attempts should you run afoul in the system.”

“There’s one catch,” Artemis interrupted, stepping forward to address the crew, “Your ship cannot be armed with anything stronger than a class 2 defence system. The Protectorate doesn’t want the Ghantri gaining any more ships that it can throw at the blockade, so any ship going in won’t be able to defend themselves from anything larger than a shuttle if they’re attacked and they won’t be able to call for help when they are.”

“We’re fucked.” uttered Cuts.

“Anyone who doesn’t think they can handle this job, can set down at the Harakiwa Jump Station when we pass through and resign with two jobs worth of pay. No hard feelings.” As Max said this, Artemis stepped in front of Max and stared at her.

“No, they can’t. Anyone steps off and I’ll activate the charges.”

“I won’t be putting my crew at risk if they don’t want to, it’s a rule I’ve always set on my ship.” It was a challenge. I leaned forward in my chair.

“You also had a rule about not working for a criminal, and here you are.”

“In case you missed it, I argued very loudly about taking this job. Ask Jenner.”

“Benedict has calculated that in order for your crew to have the best possible probability of succeeding, all of your crew are needed.”

“How do you think their performance is going to be if they’re scared out of their wits?”

“They’ll lean on your leadership, and your First Mate’s, to get the job done.”

“You have a very high opinion about me and my crew!”

“Are you saying that you don’t have faith in your own people?”

“I’m saying that you’re placing a lot of pressure on my people and putting them in danger on a whim. I don’t operate like that.”

“You’ll adapt. Benedict chose your ship and your crew for a reason.”

“And what reason is that?”

“Because you are both skilled and expendable. You’re better than most mercenary crews, but not as expensive. You have no prior dealings with known criminals so you’ll pass inspection at the blockade. They won’t suspect you of smuggling illicit cargo.”

“Which we are!”

“No, you’re not. Benedict was very clear when he said you won’t be doing anything illegal.”

“So what are we doing?”

Artemis merely smiled and walked back to her crate.

“What about me?” came a small voice in the back. Hergo, or Denno, stepped aside to reveal Zoe with a raised hand. “I’ve only been here for a short while, I’m not a full crew member yet. Can I go?”

“Sorry, baby girl, you’re in too.”

Max was clearly irritated, and began pacing again.

“Zoe, I’m sorry to get you into this, I’m sorry to all of you.”

“Captain,” offered Crege, “this warrior stands with his kitrak.”

“As do I.” said Fel, standing beside Crege.

“I can’t leave the Dreaming, Maxine, I’ve put too many years into her to walk away.” Said Eric. After a few seconds, he grabbed Mal and pushed him forward.

“Hey! Yeah ok, I’m in too. If I don’t Seth will try and be a mechanic again.”

The two Argen clapped each other on the shoulder and hissed in agreement.

Max stood there watching them for a few moments, pride in her face. Just when I thought she was going to tear up, she dismissed everyone and yelled at them to turn up for duty on time. Artemis waited until everyone but Max had left the hold before turning to leave.

“Sit your arse down, bitch! We’re going to have a chit chat, woman to woman.” ordered Max.

Artemis stopped and turned around to face Max again, crossing her arms below her breasts and leaning back on her heels.

“If you interfere with my crew, I’ll have you sedated and let Crege cut you open to find that implant.

“I don’t intend to. How you run your ship is part of why Benedict chose you.”

“That includes messing with their heads. Especially Seth’s. Don’t think I haven’t noticed. You’ll be bunking with Zoe, so don’t even think about screwing with that boy’s head. He’s got enough to think about without you swimming around in his lizard brain!” Jeez, thanks, Max! I thought.

“Look at you. Playing mother to a man who neither needs nor wants it.”

“You’re wrong, if you think you have me figured out.”

“Maybe not, but I have figured out your surrogate son.”

“He’s a good man! You keep your filthy claws away from him, slut!”

“Sticks and stones, Max. All right, have it your way. I won’t seduce him,” she admitted with that predatory smile again, “but I won’t discourage his advances either.” Good heavens! What have I gotten myself into!

“Mark my words, Derris, if you cross me there won’t be a powerful enough crime boss in the galaxy who can protect you from my wrath!”

Max stormed out of the hold. Artemis stood there a moment chuckling. Then she looked up into a camera and blew a kiss before walking out of the hold with a sultry sway in her hips.

8.

My shift was up after four hours, and Denno relieved me. I gave him a brief handover, pretty much a summary of any contacts the sensors had picked up, and asked if he had any questions before I left. He had none, so I went after to my cabin to refresh myself.

According to the navigation computer, we had just over ten days to get to our first POI, the Harakiwa Jump Gate and the station that services it. Ship life while underway, I explained earlier, consisted of a routine. The Dreaming operated on a 30 hour cycle, which served as the most comfortable and convenient circadian rhythm to get used to for most of the crew. Watches were four hours long, held by everyone except for the Captain. Zoe, only being an intern who wasn’t yet certified as a watch keeper, held a two hour watch with me supervising.

Everyone else had duties besides watch keeping as well, such as preventative maintenance, cleaning responsibilities, and any projects that Maxine had us working on. What we did with our time outside of these duties was up to us. The Dreaming had an area in the cargo hold set aside as a gym, and supply containers could be unsecured and moved to make room for a sparing mat. The main living spaces contained a dining mess compartment that could be used as a lounge and games area, which also featured a holo-projector for entertainment. Most people used their cabins a fair bit also, reading or watching films on their overlays.

One of my responsibilities was to ensure that we maintained a constant state of readiness; that we were prepared mentally and physically for any eventualities that arose. To combat complacency and to maintain that edge, I ran periodic exercises. I worked with Eric to organise damage control events such as ship-borne fires. I worked with Fel to develop simulated combat scenarios to put the crew through. I’d drop the occasional fake emergency and time the crew getting to their stations. When the crew had time, I also ran short self-defence and weapons handling training sessions.

We were nowhere near as drilled as a military vessel, but I used a lot of my experience as a Star Marine to instil an ethos into the crew that meant if they practiced hard, they could handle the real thing easy.

Max had Eric and Cuts secretly searching for the charges, in hopes that we could at least get to the bombs if we ever got the chance to disarm them. We also needed to know for sure that the threat was real, we’d feel pretty foolish if in the end it turns out there were none. Jenner didn’t seem like the kind of guy who bluffed, though, and it was no surprise when Cuts found the first one.

It was welded into the primary emissions coupler, which meant that if we tried to remove it, it would probably sense the lack of flow of emissions and detonate. It didn’t look too big a charge, though, and I guessed that if it did go off, the most damage it would do is make it so we couldn’t accelerate at maximum for longer than an hour before the radiation killed us all. They kept searching.

Thankfully, Artemis had gone to bunk with Zoe after all, so I had my cabin back to myself. I used the extra space to take stock of my armoury, ensuring that all my armours were in good repair, and that I had enough batteries for my guns. I also asked Fel to see if he could put together another scrambler to replace the one I’d lost at the Crystal Lounge. I also downloaded all the information I could regarding Ambrose Station. I couldn’t get anything recent, of course, just reports and news articles from its early days during construction before the Ghantri took it over. I’d taken a print out of the station with me to mull over during one of my watches I kept with Zoe and after I watched her run through her check list we started to talk. As usual, it started with her asking questions.

“What are the Ghantri like?”

“What do you remember from the news?”

“Not much, I was only a teenager when it happened, I was more interested in studying cybernetics than some distant war.”

“Right, well, the Ghantri are actually two separate species.”

“Ah huh, the Ghantri are the big ones, and the Jaani are the smaller ones!”

“That’s right. I haven’t seen many Jaani, but I know they’re the technicians. The Ghantri tend to be the heavy lifters and labourers. They both evolved from primates, similar to humans, on their home world of Ghan. Although the Jaani are smarter on average, the Ghantri are the master race. The Jaani appear to have evolved alongside them in a kind of symbiotic relationship.”

“Their big brothers.”

“That’s one way of thinking of them. The Ghantri are predators, through and through, I think the Jaani just came along for the ride as a subservient race. It’s effective though.”

“Do you remember them before the war?”

“No, I was too young too. I do know that when the Protectorate first opened the Jump Gate into Gossamer System, the Ghantri welcomed the fleets with open arms. Ghan was a rich, verdant world, a super earth. There were a few other planets in the system that were rich in minerals, a gas giant as well. The Protectorate brokered trade agreements with the natives, exchanging technology for mining privileges.”

“The Ghantri didn’t have space travel before the Protectorate? I thought they never contacted non-spacefaring races?”

“No, the Ghantri did have space flight, not real advanced, but they could still zip around their system using chemical rockets.”

“That must have taken years of travel to get between POIs!”

“I guess. Ambrose Station was built during the first decade of contact. It was nearly finished too, when it all went to shit. There was a colony starting out on one of the moons of Laz’oh Dar, the gas giant. I think they’d started terraforming Nsarri as well, the next planet after Ghan.”

“Why did they attack? They had everything they could need already.”

“I don’t know. Maybe it was in their DNA, their apex predator evolutionary imperative. Why trade for things when you can just take them. It was a savagely executed attacked too. They must have been planning for years. Virtually overnight they killed all the Protectorate officials and ambassadors, captured as many star ships as they could, and nearly destroyed the rest. A pitched fighting withdrawal forced the surviving Protectorate ships back to the Jump Gate. They had to leave hundreds of thousands behind on Ambrose Station and who knows how many on the colony at Sho’da Nar.”

“That’s the moon orbiting Laz’oh Dar?”

“Oh. Yeah, apparently they’re named for heroes of Ghantri mythology.”

“I remember hearing about something called The Push. Can you tell me about that?”

“So the Protectorate managed to block off the Jump Gate on the Gossamer side, and halt the Ghantri advance there. There weren’t enough Protectorate warships on the other side to do more than that, however. Ghantri war parties would attempt to break the blockade every few months, but so far it’s held. The Push was a counter offensive a few years ago, the Protectorate had signed an accord with the big players in the Votus-Eridani Network to enlist local militaries to join the offensive. Intelligence estimated that the Ghantri still had hundreds of thousands of civilians captured in the system, primarily being used as slave labour. It was all set up as a big political stunt by the Protectorate, offering shared access and colonisation opportunities to Eridani and Harakiwan governments.”

“If they sent ships.”

“And marines.”

“You mean the Primacy Star Marines?”

“Yeah, the Primarch of Kanto Prime pledged a full division of Star Marines, twenty thousand soldiers for the meat grinder.”

“I actually remember that! I watched Primarch Singh XXVIII make the pledge, and my mother and I took a charter ship to Kanto Moon to watch the parade!”

“If you looked close enough, you might have seen me.”

“You were in the Corps then?”

“Sure was, I’d just made corporal.”

“Is that when you…you know…your augments?”

I didn’t answer right away. My first reaction was to close up, change the topic. Talk about politics or navigation. She saw my hesitation, my jaw clenching. She reached out and touch my hand.

“I’m sorry, you don’t have to talk about it.”

“No, I do. I’ve…been having issues with what happened there and I need to sort it out before we go back to Gossamer. Max told me that you could help. That talking to you might help me work out some things.”

“Ok, but only at your own pace, all right? You can’t go through a past trauma by being forced to relive it, without being in the right mind to do so.”

“We don’t have much time. Max said I need to get sorted or I could cause people to get hurt if I’m not one hundred percent.”

“Is that how this happened?” she gestured at my shoulder. “You weren’t one hundred percent when this happened and this is the result?”

“No, I was good. I was solid then.”

“So this wasn’t your fault? You didn’t screw up?”

“No…no I….”

“So what makes you think being one hundred percent can prevent something like this from happening?”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“It wasn’t your fault. What happens to the crew on this job probably won’t be your fault either. You can’t control every facet of cause and effect, you can’t predict fate or twist the forces of chaos to ensure we all go home alive.”

“Well, no…”

“So don’t put that kind of pressure on yourself. Just because you’re First Mate of the Dreaming of Atmosphere, or were a Corporal in the Star Marines, doesn’t mean you’re not supposed to get PTSD. You need to realise that you have an avenue to address it. It’s not a weakness, but the opposite! You survived!”

I sat there, mulling it over. After a few more minutes of silence, she turned around and started fiddling with the console again.

“You can talk to me any time you need to. Oh, what’s this mean?”

I looked up at what she indicated, and saw that the sensors had picked up a contact on an intercept cause with us. That already raises a number of alarms in my head – ships don’t seek each other out by intercepting them, not unless it’s a pre-arranged rendezvous. There were very few legitimate causes for such an action. No, most likely it was hostile.

“Probably a pirate.” I said, turning to my console and activating the general alarm. I grabbed the PA microphone, “Secure the ship for combat! All hands, close up at stations and report.”

Zoe was wide-eyed and scared, staring intently at the systems console she was sitting at, for all the world looking like she was determined to do what was necessary. I smiled and put a hand on her shoulder. She jumped.

“Zoe, your station is in med lab.”

“Oh, I thought…”

“Fel will want to sit there.”

“Yes, okay. I’ll be going then.”

She stood up and almost made to bolt out of the command module, then stopped and turned around and surprised me by giving me a short hug. Then she turned and ran, not looking back. Huh, maybe Max was right. I already felt a better.

A moment later Max and the rest of the command staff entered the compartment and we sealed the hatch. The compartment lights dimmed as I switched my console to battle configuration, and turned a deep sapphire blue. Crege started a checklist with Fel, recording readings and activating various systems.

“What have we got?” asked Max, turning her console into a multi-faceted sensor display.

“One contact one point two million kilometres at red three zero, nine degrees north. Bearing indicates intercept in ninety three minutes twenty seven seconds.” What that meant was the contact was thirty degrees off our port bow, nine degrees above the solar plane. When trying to determine coordinates in a solar system, the easiest way is to reference the largest object in the system – the star. As most planet tended to orbit the star along a similar plane, space farers use this to determine if an object is above, or north, and below the solar plane, or south. Military vessels handled this differently, as they often needed to coordinate with multiple ships in a fleet, but independent ships like us only needed to coordinate everything with reference to ourselves.

“Emissions?”

“Only on S band, tracking data only.”

“So he’s got weapons on us.”

“He’ll have to brake soon if he’s going to expect to hit anything at that speed. We’ll know if he intends to shoot first rather than talk in about…seventeen minutes.”

“When can he hit us? Fel?”

“Analysing energy signature. One moment, Captain.”

“Should I turn to face down the calak?” asked Crege. What he meant was that if he changed our profile with reference to the enemy, it will throw off any firing solutions their fire control system will have calculated. At the speeds star ships travelled, and the great distances this kind of combat took place at, actually hitting a ship is a nearly miraculous feat of mathematics, advanced computing and a battle of technology versus technology. Who has the better shields, the faster computer, the more agile manoeuvring thrusters, the better electronic warfare suite, the sharper sensors, the smarter munitions? There was very little input from the ship’s living crew, all we could offer was superior tactics, introduce a little chaotic evasion and our prayers.

Combat in space is conducted in a few different ways, depending on the desired outcome for the attacking party. Piracy, the number one hazard for civilian space travellers, requires that the attacker only disable their prey. Using powerful space based weapons during a pirate attack will statistically yield a fast moving cloud of debris, rather than a disabled ship that can be ransacked and pillaged. Weapons, as a result, come in various classifications depending on how they can be used. Class 1 weapons, like what this suspected pirate had, don’t have enough power to outright destroy most space craft. They tend to be mounted on shuttles, fighters and atmospheric police forces. A good hit can strike a critical engine port or cooling and emissions vent, but you’re in no danger of exploding with one hit. These types of weapons can fire multiple times in rapid concession, though, and made disabling their targets a more likely outcome to an engagement. Class 2 weapons are deterrents to piracy and non-offensive military vessels. They can puncture a hull and rip out systems in single hits, but they require large amounts of energy to operate. Smaller craft can fire these weapons infrequently and allow time for them to charge, or sacrifice ship space to devote wholly to the reactors and power supplies needed to fire them regularly.

Class 3 weapons are destructive weapons like missiles and rail gun batteries, designed to destroy their targets swiftly and with little care for the niceties of mercy. They usually require finite resources like shells or missiles to fire, and this takes up large amounts of volume on ships. As a result, only military ships tend to use them, which have the tonnage and the design capabilities to utilise them effectively. Class 4 weapons are the truly terrible results of literally thousands of years of research in how to kill as many people as possible with a single round. Asteroid busters, capital ship splitters and planet wreakers are the stuff of class 4 weapons.

With baited breath, we watched our sensors and a count down until expected braking took place. The ship rotated about on its axis and began thrusting in our direction, but it had taken longer than calculated to perform the manoeuvre. A rookie mistake, one that gave us an advantage. By the time the ship was in range to shoot, it would be travelling too fast relative to us to gain an accurate shot.

“Captain,” said Fel, “Energy signatures consistent with Shen – Don Systems Model 422 Pulse Weapon System. Class 1 energy weapon. Time til weapons range twenty one minutes thirteen seconds. Modulating shield frequency to match weapon emissions.”

“Very good.”

More waiting. When we were three minutes from weapons range, Zoe sent me a message on my overlay

What’s going on? Is it pirates?

We think so, but can you leave this channel clear? We need to focus.

Sorry, of course.

“Charging beamer.” I reported, indicating I’d started to shift power from the engines to the Dreaming’s Class 2 weapon system.

“Very good. Crege, start evasive manoeuvres and head straight down their pipe.”

“Aye aye, kitrak!”

The ship started to juke and weave, throwing our heads about in our seats. We’d long since strapped ourselves down, so we had no danger of bouncing out of our seats, but Crege has a tendency to increase his soft zone for combat.

“One minute!” reported Fel.

“Tracking. Acquired. Firing solution valid.” I was reading from my console as the beamer used the sensor data of the ship to find its target.

“Very good. All hands, brace for impact!” called Max over the PA.

Seconds trickled by, all eyes on our consoles.

“Firing!” I called. Suddenly the steady drone of the ship’s engines was eclipsed by an ear piercing wail that lasted nearly two seconds. I could feel and hear the ship shudder as if someone had dumped a bucket of rocks onto the roof of the command module.

“Recording multiple impacts on our hull.” reported Fel.

“Status!”

“Shields recharging, no hull breaches detected. Impacts were scattered across decks 2 and 3 port side.”

“Denno, Hergo, roving damage control checks. Decks 2 and 3 port side.” called Max over the PA. Max knew that the ship’s internal sensors can be wrong and even a micro breach can cause problems down the line if ignored. We had time, turning about at this speed for a second pass will take a long time.

“What’s the condition of the enemy?”

“It was a hit, not sure how effective. Fel, can you get a trace on any particulates?” I called over my shoulder.

“I’m reading several parts per million of titanium and three Sieverts of radiation.”

“Wasn’t a fatal shot, but they did take damage. Possibly an engine housing.”

“Crege, reacquire our course and keep her on steady acceleration. Let’s see what our friend does.”

We knew that at the speed we were travelling, it would take at least an hour before the other ship could turn about and get within range of us again, assuming they had enough acceleration to catch up with us. If they’d take our shot on one of their engine housings, though, acceleration could be a risky action for them. Hopefully, they’d had enough and would limp back to their base and pick a different target.

As we waited to see what the pirate would do, Denno reported in, saying they found no breaches. Meanwhile, Fel found that one of our sensor mounts was not responding to commands. It must have taken some damage, he explained, but nothing on the electronics just the mechanical parts. We’d have to send someone out when it was safe to assess and repair it.

“They’re turning about!” called Fel, “Time to intercept; eighty nine minutes four seconds.”

“Let’s shorten that a little shall we, Crege?” suggested Max.

“Adjusting course.”

The Dreaming started a long turning arc towards the pirate, traversing thousands of kilometres each minute. Eventually Max told Crege to hold our course, angled towards the enemy.

“Contact now at green four three, time to intercept twenty nine minutes, forty three seconds.”

“Charging beamer!”

“Shields are still down. We’ll need a full half hour to get them back up.”

“Turn them off; they’re only good for a few shots anyway. Shift the excess power to the weapon system. Let’s see if we can get our shot off before they get in range for theirs. Crege, drop acceleration to 0.2 G.” Max called Eric in the engine room, “Eric, you’ll be getting a boatload of power back in a moment, I want you to couple it directly into the beamer.”

“Aye aye, Captain!” came the reply.

“Seth, calculate time until they’re in range with that extra power.”

I ran the numbers.

“Twenty four minutes, eight seconds.”

All our eyes were on our instruments, waiting for our two ships to approach once more. We’d done all we could to stack the odds in our favour. Now we played the waiting game. Minutes trickled by. Max updated the crew via PA, and appeared to be calmly organising next week’s supply run when we arrive at the Jump Gate.

“One minute!” called Fel. Max filed her spreadsheet and brought up the sensors information on her screen once more.

“Target acquired. Tracking. Firing!” I yelled.

As our two ships approached, our weapon system locked onto our target and unleash a torrent of energy. Previously, our ship had fired when it was within range to do so, during a brief window as we passed within range. During the pass, the enemy ship would have calculated our maximum range and calibrated their own weapons to get as close as possible to deliver their payloads. Since our last pass, we had diverted extra power to our beamer, extending the range by several thousand kilometres. What Max counted on was the hesitation of the other ship before firing, allowing us to get off a shot before they even got into range. The tactic wasn’t always viable, but they’d proven their lack of experience in their last pass when they’d failed to calculate the optimal time to begin braking in order to fire accurately.

Once more, the ear-splitting wail of our beamer reverberated through the ship.

“Brace for impact!” ordered Max.

“Negative enemy weapons release detected!” reported Fel, “I’m picking up a radiation burst. Particle content consistent with reactor detonation.”

“We got him!” I whooped. Max turned to smile at me.

“Let’s make sure. Crege, turn us about. Fel how long until we have confirmation?”

“Won’t be long, should be able to get a visual on our port scanners shortly.”

Sure enough, when the scanners were aligned we were able to use our telescope to pick up the debris field moving away from us at high speed. Max had Crege recalculate our trajectory to meet up with the Jump Gate, and soon we were relaxing from our combat stations.

9.

It was several hours later, and I was suiting up in my light duties space suit in the starboard airlock off Deck 1, the command deck. Max had tasked Mal and me to go inspect the Number 2 sensor array that had suffered some damage during the skirmish with the pirate. Mal because he was our best mechanical engineer, and me because I had them most time logged doing extravehicular activity, or EVA. Naked space is an extremely hostile environment for humans, and most other life forms, and even the slightest problem can become life threatening if it isn’t acted up swiftly and with the correct procedure. I’d received basic training in mechanical repair, as had most of the crew, so could hand Mal the right tools and assist in most of the tasks, and I can call safety concerns faster than most.

Zoe and Eric were in the airlock with us, assisting us into our suits. Although they were comfortable to wear, and easy to move around in once suited, they were difficult to put on by yourself. It always pays to use the buddy system as well, checking each other over for mistakes or other issues. Zoe was assisting me, and Eric was tugging on Mal’s last glove. I was still only half dressed.

“I’d like it better if Eric was helping me. At least he knows one end of a plasma cutter from the other. And he’d be dressed already.” Complained Mal.

“He’s got Zoe helping him, Cuts.” Defended Eric.

“Wow, thanks Eric. Nice to know you got my back.” quipped Zoe, showing mock affront.

“A student is only as good as the teacher.”

“Mal, why don’t you put your helmet on and shut up. I’m not rushing Zoe, it’s my life she’s got in her hands and I don’t want her to screw it up.” I replied calmly.

“No pressure?” smiled Zoe.

With careful guidance and a second check by Eric, and then a third by Mal, we were ready to go.

“Gee, didn’t know you cared about my wellbeing, Mal.”

“I’d rather not get chewed out by the Captain for letting her golden boy get spaced.”

We stepped to the outer airlock and waited for the others to leave. We checked and double-checked out pockets and attachments, ensuring all our tools were secured. I connected my interface overlay to the suit’s wireless port, and a heads up display appeared over my vision. The display listed important data such as O2 levels, suit integrity, radiation dosage, temperature both inside and outside the suit, and propellant levels for the suit’s small propulsion unit mounted nearby backside. Once a power-on self-test was completed by the suit, a GO indicator was highlighted on my HUD. I gave a thumbs up to Eric, waiting patiently on the other side of the internal airlock watching us through a small view portal. Mal did the same.

Depressurising airlock, standby. Came a text message from Eric. I could hear the air in the airlock hissing as it was sucked in through vent grills at the base of the compartment. Eventually, as the air left, so did the media that sound travels through and the hissing died away to nothing. All I could hear was my own breathing and steady pulse of the heart beating.

Depressurising complete. Opening outer airlock.

The outer hatch spun open and the deep black of space loomed ahead of us. The difference between the well-lit airlock and abyss was stark and unnerving to those unused to space walks. The first step is always the hardest, when you take your first EVA, it’s akin to stepping off a ledge into a bottomless pit, only a pit has walls. It’s even more unsettling when the airlock contains artificial gravity, as the brain tells you that you’re about to fall, but instead you float out into open space. To me, though, it was one of the greatest perks of living the life we lead.

I virtually sprang out of the airlock like a high diver, putting a slight twist into my leap as I did. I twirled through space briefly and halted my turn with a tiny burst from my backpack. Arms out by my sides I drifted apart from the ship and had turned to face her. The Dreaming of Atmosphere stretched before me in all her majesty.

My great grandfather, Sirus Donovan the Third, had commissioned her when he was almost my age. He’d outfitted her with a passenger module instead of a cargo hold and used her to ferry tourists about the Eridani System for five decades before he passed it on to his son, Sirus the Fourth. Eridanian’s are fond of naming their children after themselves, placing great importance on lineage. Sirus IV only had her for twelve years before he was killed in an accident while on shore leave. The Dreaming then passed onto my grandfather, and younger brother of Sirus IV, Hieron Donovan. He had her for seventy two glorious years, making a name for himself as a great trader and bounty hunter. He had her reconfigured with a cargo hold, upgrade the weapons and pretty much drafted the business model we use today. When my father made Captain, old Hieron retired and lives to this day with his seventh wife (not my grandmother) on Oceania in far off Votus II System.

My father, Caster Donovan, was born on this ship, as was I. That makes us frontiersmen. My family hasn’t been Eridanian for two generations now. If I also have children on this ship that take to the stars like my father and I, they’ll officially be declared Nomads by interstellar consensus. All that means is that the social standing of our family name falls to somewhere slightly above ‘vagabond’ and below ‘homeless’. We frontiersmen don’t care much for social standing anyway, and it merely means to me that they’re three generations removed without a home planet. I was born in space. I live in space, and I thrive here.

The Dreaming for Atmosphere is a hundred and twelve metres long, and fifty four metres at its widest, shaped into a Y formation with the command module at the tip and the two engine nacelles spread apart to make the fork of the Y. It has three decks, and is twenty eight metres high. A central, circular section of the ship forms the basis of the main deck areas and the cargo hold takes up the most room at the bottom of the ship. When it was first constructed it was an Olympus Star Yards Meridian Class Transport, but years of modifications and additions to its design make in nearly indistinguishable to the original blueprint.

Both of the two Sirus Donovan’s who owned her kept the original configuration, but old man Hieron changed her role every few years, especially in the latter two decades of his captaincy. My father only made upgrades to the beamer’s efficiency and several internal modifications, such as a makeshift armoury in the forward cargo spaces. Max had the med lab converted from an extra berthing space for crew during her first year of ownership, and with Eric and Crege made dozens of tweaks and upgrades to the propulsion.

I loved this ship, it’s the only thing I’ve ever considered home. One day, when I’m ready, I might even own her.

“Quit screwing around, Seth, we have work to do.” grumbled Mal.

“Coming about.”

“The Number Two Array should be just aft of the access hatch, about 2 metres down.”

“I see it.”

We’re ready for the repair, I texted Fel, who was sitting in the command module, open the array shielding, please.

A circular port about a metre in diameter opened like an iris near where Mal had indicated. Inside was the array itself, which would normally telescope out when needed. All around the hatch were dark spots, where the pirate’s weapon had scattered shots over. I quickly scanned them for radiation and was satisfied that the dosages given off by the spots weren’t harmful over short time spans.

“We’ll need to get away from here before two hours; otherwise we’ll absorb too much juice from those pits.”

“If you give me a hand instead of floating around we might actually do that.”

“I’m here if you need me, Cuts, just tell me what you want me to do.”

“Some light in here would be a start.”

I flicked on my helmet light, and unslung a flashlight from my webbing as well. I rotated my suit so I was facing the hole. Mal moved onto the hull and attached a few magnetic hooks around the array housing, using them to manoeuvre himself and anchor tools to. He then magnetised his knees and feet, attaching to the hull.

“So what do you think about our current job?” asked Cuts as he worked.

I made sure our suit coms were only transmitting with each other and not the rest of the ship before answering.

“Which part?”

“I don’t know, our chances of pulling it off?”

“If we keep our heads level, and work as a team we…”

“Spare me the senior leadership bullshit. Just tell me what you think.”

“Okay, I think we have a chance.”

“Why?”

“I know Gossamer System. I know how the Ghantri think, and I plan to use that to our advantage.”

“You mean from when you were in the Star Marines?” I could tell that he was worried, I’d never actually had a decent conversation with the man in the two years since I’ve known him. I wasn’t sure I felt comfortable talking about my marine days, especially with him, but I knew I had a responsibility to the crew that included their morale.

“Yeah, Mal, I did a tour there. Wasn’t easy, but I got through it.”

“I’ve heard some things, you know. Really heavy shit from the system. People go in, and it…it changes them. Did that happen to you?”

“I won’t lie. It did. I had to do some pretty terrible things just to survive, but I we have it in as to get through this as well. Last time, I only had myself, now I have a full crew…”

“Pass me that torque wrench there. I thought you said you were with the marines?”

“I was, at first, but they…I got separated. I got left behind when they all pulled out.”

“Ha, you were off chasing some tail and you missed your liberty call, huh?”

“Not really, no. My squad got ambushed and I was one of the only survivors. After we got to our rendezvous late, the shuttle had already left. Just as well too because we found out later it had been destroyed along with most of the fleet we came in with.”

“Man, that’s some heavy shit right there.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t really like to talk about it.”

“Why? You ain’t gone soft, have you?”

“It’s complicated. I don’t expect you to understand it.”

“So great, we’re going into the star system from hell with our only guide a burned out marine with a shaky hand.”

“Fuck you, Mal. You’re a real bezak, you know that?”

He continued to work while he chuckled to himself. I was less than helpful after that, preferring to quietly brood while he replaced some damaged bearings and a faulty actuator. Eventually he was done, and we packed everything up. Fel checked the array and found that it was working again and we headed back inside. Mal took one more chance to run me the wrong way as we got out of our suits with the help of Eric and Zoe again.

“Maybe you should both help Seth, he can barely see with all the crying he’s been doing out there, har ha.”

Zoe merely looked into my face with concern and ignored Mal’s jibs. Eric scolded him and the pair left to get back to engineering. Zoe helped me to stow the gear back in the airlock and soon we were walking back towards the main living spaces.

“What was he talking about?” she probed as we climbed down the ladder well to Deck 2.

“I thought he was asking me about the job and he sounded scared, so I told him a little about my last time I was in Gossamer System. He looked for anything he could attack me with and leaped on it.”

“It’s a defence mechanism. He is scared.”

“You don’t know Cuts, he’s an asshole.”

“How are you holding up?”

“Feeling a little vulnerable, I tried opening up and I got kicked in the guts.”

“It’s going to feel like that a few times. It will feel worse right up until it doesn’t. That’s how you know you’re healing.”

We walked in silence a little more.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about your FX-93 Aug, and I wanted to speak to you about an upgrade I know of…”

“No, Zoe.”

“But, you don’t even know what it is.”

“No, I had these Augs, the only way I can get through the day with them in me is by pretending I don’t have them.”

She stopped walking and just looked at me.

“What?”

“You don’t see them for what they are, you only see them for what they remind you of.”

“Just like a bad scar.” I traced a finger down my eye and cheek, the tip following the groove of my face scar.

“They’re not just scars, Seth, they’re so much more.”

“I can’t put extra strength on them, first heavy thing I pick up would rip them right out of my body…”

“They’re connected to your nervous system!”

“So?”

“Your nerve shunt goes right into your spine and has dendrites that interface with your brain.”

“Besides making them sound horrifying, what’s your point?”

“You’re one implant away from building a top of the line Nano-proliferation system.”

It was my turn to stare.

“No thanks, I’m enough of a freak that I don’t need to go lacing creepy crawly microscopic robots all over my body.”

She sighed in frustration.

“That’s not what they are. But ok, I get the message. No NP. It’s your body, I just wanted to talk to you about it is all.” She appeared chastened, and made to walk off. I grabbed her arm before she took off.

“Thanks,” I caught her eye, “I mean that.”

She nodded and hurried off down a passageway towards her cabin.

Nano-proliferation is a relatively new technology, one that creeps the hell out of me. Supposedly you need extensive augmentation, including a nerve interface, and one of these new special implants that goes right into you skull. You usually only hear about NP users through the news, and they’re usually power crazed megalomaniacs who lose themselves in the power that stems from such a modification.

The implant, which is half-organic like our interface overlays, allows the user to manufacture microscopic robots that can self-replicate at the user’s command. These nanites can manipulate things at the molecular level and induce all manner of nifty effects and abilities. They tap into the user’s own natural body electricity, or something, and prolonged use can turn you into a vegetable. The effects that can be produce are nothing short of miraculous, though, and terrifying in their potential. By changing their electrical polarity and potential charge, they can electrify things, like people, and can infiltrate electronic devices and control them. They can even dissolve substances like acid. I’m sure there are many mild mannered NP users out there, who don’t make the news, but the only ones I’ve ever seen are raving murderers and crazy people.

Actually, I did know an NP user who wasn’t mad, a man named Captain De Lacy. He was the commanding officer of the Sardonis Mist, a Protectorate Fleet frigate that I served on briefly during The Push into Gossamer. He used his nanites to interface directly with many of the ship’s systems when we’d suffered a direct hit to the bridge. The blast had killed many of the crew staff through decompression, but not De Lacy. By the time I’d gotten there to help with the damage control, he had encased his head in some sort of energy field and had all these strange black wires going from his arms down into the command console he was affixed to. The strangest thing I’d ever seen. He was controlling the entire ship, and later when I asked him about it he said it was like he was the ship, he saw through its sensors and felt each hit that struck us. It took its toll though, he was bed ridden for as long as I knew him after that, which didn’t turn out to be long as it was. The Sardonis Mist was destroyed a week later, after we’d deployed for the ground assault.

Well, all that talk about ugly business and my brooding mind, not to mention my little chat with Cuts had wound me up tight. When this usually happens the best way to work it out is through exercise. I pinged Crege, to see if he was keen for some sparing. He was. I headed down through Deck 2 and further on towards Deck 3 and the forward cargo hold.

While I waited for Crege, I unlashed a few supply crates and moved them out of the way, forming a large enough area to spar. I opened the armoury and pulled out a few of the blades we keep there, checking them over for nicks and chips. When I was satisfied I had a decent blade, I made to exit the armoury when suddenly the lights in the hold went out.

I was instantly alert, falling into a defensive guard stance. I slowed my breathing and concentrated. I listened. When I was sure I wasn’t in immediate danger of being attacked, I activated my tactical app and initiated a secondary function of the program. A wireframe image filtered into my vision, overlaying the infrastructure that I knew was about me. It may be dark, but my brain has seen this compartment many times. The app tapped into the local network and built a three dimensional construct of the compartment from security footage moments before the black out. I couldn’t see my assailant, but I could at least navigate around the hold without tripping like an idiot.

I confidently stepped out into the hold, my blade before me and slightly high. I heard a faint scuff to me left, a rustle of cloth, then a swift woosh. I ducked and rolled, coming up a few metres away from where I was. I instantly fell into guard again and was rewarded by a bright flash from my blade as it connected with another. With a grunt and kicked out in front of me and was rewarded with a solid connection. My attacked rolled away, and I pressed my advantage swinging my blade in a circular sweep before me. A foot struck out and caught me behind my heel, I slipped by hadn’t put all my weight on that leg yet. Pulling my blade back into a low guard I caught the enemy’s blade on my own once more and in the flash that followed I was able to spot a swinging fist aimed at my face. I ducked and drove my shoulder into their midriff. I knocked the wing out of them and drove my head upwards, clipping a chin. We disengaged and rolled apart, both puffing with exertion.

A chortling chuff came from my opponent, and the lights came back on.

“You made me bite my tongue, human.” Said Crege, spitting blood out of his beak.

“Sorry, I’ll go easy on you if you like.”

He chuffed some more and trilled a little, “You would dishonour me, if you did.”

“I can get Zoe, in case you bleed out?”

He responded by launching himself at me with a swift upper swipe that followed with a back handed low to high sweep. The rapid strikes almost caught me off guard and I was hard pressed to knock them aside. I was on the back foot, as Crege continued with his barrage of blows by alternating high – low, left – right, up – down and I had to concentrate fully to block or evade them all. I backed up so far I fell into one of the crates and went tumbling over and fell on my head on the other side. Crege leaped onto the crate and made to continue his attack, only I kicked his feet out from under him and he fell backwards.

I leapt up, sword in hand, only to almost lose my head when he swept across me savagely. I faked to the left, but braced myself and pushed right, smashing my shoulder into him and while he was stunned I pressed my attack. My blows were not as fast or as accurate as Crege’s but they were heavier and made him recoil for longer than I had. I made a mistake, then, I repeated my attacks one too many times and Crege was ready for it. He dodged a stroke where last time he’d blocked it and smashed his blade down on my guard hilt. The blow stunned my wrist, and the swords scattered across the hold as he kicked it away. He had me, his sword tip resting on my chin.

“Sloppy, human.”

“Yeah, my bad.”

“Your mind is not here. A warrior without a brain is not a warrior, he is fedang.”

“Yeah I get it, a practice dummy.”

He lowered his blade and tossed it onto a supply crate.

“You want to talk?”

“When I catch my breath.”

You may think that swords are a bit old fashioned to be used around such advanced weaponry, but there is a reason for it. Most firearms use hard light projectiles, meaning they’re formed of solidified light particles. It’s an energy form that’s been around for centuries, and there are many ways to counter it. There’s ablative coating on armour, which dissipates the particles across a wider area, or there’s personal shielding. Good old fashioned solid armour can also stop an energy projectile, most of the time. Personal shields are similar in operation to the shields used on our ship. They project a bubble around the user that breaks apart the hardlight casing of the projectile and converts it into electricity. Shields tend to create lots of sparks and make it hard to stay out of sight. The fireworks also mess with your vision and for this reason I tend to steer away from shields in favour of ablative armour. It’s less expensive than shields and they don’t burn out in the middle of a fight. When you do fight someone with shields or decent ablative armour, they can be difficult to kill. That is, unless you bypass the shields altogether. Like with a metal sword.

With the introduction of personal shielding and ablative armour, melee combat became more popular, and even became an official sport. Famous swordfighters became folk heroes and the subject of many popular movies. Just like the old gun fighters of ancient Earth’s old west, a subculture grew out of the sport. Duellists who sought out one another to determine once and for all who the best swordfighter in the galaxy was.

I’d almost caught my breath when I noticed a movement to my right. Artemis walked into the cargo hold, her ever present grin on her pretty face. She was twirling her ballistic pistol in her hand.

“Sometimes the old ways are the best.” She teased, and returned her pistol to her hip.

“That’s cheating.” I said, trying to look tough. Why, I don’t know.

“No, calak is right.” Said Crege. I turned to face him in surprise.

“Superior warrior not the one with best moves,” he explained, “it is the warrior who walks away at end of fight, not dragged away.”

“What do you want Artemis?” I eyed her off. I looked at her, in her direction, I mean.

“Can’t a girl get some exercise?” she said as she picked up my fallen blade.

“You want to spar?”

“Sure. Let’s see what you’re made of.”

“I don’t know…”

“Do it, human. Perhaps she has accident. Very unfortunate.”

“Oh, come now. You really think you can hurt me?”

“If I do, it might set off the charges. That would be mighty foolish of me.”

“I tell you what, you cut me, I’ll tell you where one of the charges you haven’t found yet are.”

“And if you cut me?”

“You can quit whenever you like. If you can handle a few cuts you can keep trying.”

“Deal.”

Crege made a puffing sound, and tossed me his lurzak. I made sure it was deactivated and tested the grip. It was a little small for me, but was comfortable. Crege backed away and perched atop a supply crate, watching eagerly.

“Don’t go easy on me, big boy.” she teased again.

I lunged at her as fast as I could, trying to catch her off guard. She was ready, expecting it. She nimbly leapt back and with a flick of her wrist cut my chin slightly. She was grinning fiercely. I rubbed by chin and glared at her.

“Want me to call Zoe?” chided Crege. I burned a dose of stink eye at him, then turned back to Artemis, who was patiently waiting for me to ready myself again. I would have to fight smart, I could see now. I could see she was a seasoned swordfighter; I won’t be able to trick her with my usual feints and dirty fighting.

We circled each other, I watched her moving, studied her stance. She grinned at me like a shark. I moved slowly, putting each foot down with care. She mimicked me, moving at the same pace. I moved quickly, suddenly, changing direction and sidestepping. She pulled back and fell into stance. Her eyes flashed. I smiled back at her. We both leapt at the same time and out blades met in mid-air with a crash. I spun away and raised my guard, catching a sharp backhand chop on it. She sent out a foot to try to catch me on the chin, but I ducked and thrust my blade at her midriff. She turned aside and pushed my thrust wide, bringing her elbow down on my blade and rolling down the length towards me. I continued with my thrusting momentum and rolled under her flip, coming up just in time to meet her blade again.

I went on the attack again, thrust, swing, chop, swipe. Each time I was met with the clang of steel and I could see my blows her hurting her hand. Hopefully, her fingers would go numb and I could disarm her. She was having none of that, however, and dove out of the way of my last attack leaving me unbalanced. She stabbed forward with her blade and caught the side of my forearm. Red wetness welled up through my sleeve. I pulled back in pain and she pirouetted on her foot and smashed her foot into the side of my head. My vision swam, and I could swear I could hear something rattling around loose inside my head.

She continued her spin and swung her blade out to try to send me back again, but this time I simply grabbed her blade with my left hand and squeezed. Her eyes opened wide in surprise and in that instant, she knew I could have killed her. Instead, I swished my blade in front of her face, placing a neat little cut below her right eye. A single drop of blood trickled down her face.

My cybernetic hand dropped the bent and crushed blade with a clatter. A moment later her smile returned, this time there was a trace of something else in it besides amusement.

Crege was hooting and clapping.

“So, where is that charge?” I smiled at her in triumph.

10.

Engineering spaces have always been tight. The idea is to jam as much technology as possible into the smallest space, and squeeze as much power and push from it as you can. This results in access passages that are generously called crawl spaces, when in reality they should be called worm across your belly spaces. Add to the discomfort is the need to drag tools and devices along with you, and you can see why working in engineering and propulsion requires you have no fear of enclosed spaces. The steady thrum of power that ebbs through the rest of the ship is more of a dull roar here, and hearing protection must be worn at all times. The smell of lubricants and coolant are strong, mixing into a melange of heated oils and atomised fuel particles.

Eric, Mal and I were wriggling through one such crawl space into the starboard nacelle. Eric was towing a bag of tools behind him, and they kept snagging on pipe and gauges. As I was next in line I was constantly calling a halt to untangle them. Mal, as usual, kept complaining about all the stopping and starting.

Eventually we came out into an open space, a compartment three metres in diameter surrounded by several displays and controls. A veritable nexus of coolant lines, fuel lines and electrical conduits. Eric immediately started taking readings and downloading them into his overlay. Mal popped up out of the crawl space last and set about removing an access panel below the deck.

“We have a slight imbalance in the resonance chamber further aft, it’s causing a slight cavitation in our wake. We’ll have to check it out before we go.” reported Eric.

“Could it be damage from the attack?”

“No, it’s too embedded in our engines to take a hit without outlying components first taking damage. It’s probably just a loose coupling. Nothing to worry about, all part of standard maintenance.”

“You think it could be another charge? Maybe Jenner’s technicians knocked something loose.”

“Maybe, I’ll make sure to take along my vibration analyser when I go.”

“So where’s the one that Artemis gave up? What’s the cyclotron waveguide feed?”

“It’s part of the system that enables us to collect and process stray particles from space. It’s in the latter 3rd of the system, after the particles have been sorted and filtered. It takes the more exotic particles and converts them to energy, then feeds them directly into the fusion chamber for compiling.”

Starships use multiple sources of fuel. Since energy cannot be created from nothing and can only be converted from one form to another, even with today’s technology we still need something to feed the fire that is starship propulsion. The Dreaming uses a three-fold system, called a Trifurcated Ion Drive. The principle is fairly simple, a gas is given an electrical charge, the ionised gas is passed through an electric screen at the rear of the engines and the ions push out and provide thrust. It’s very efficient, and is a design that has been in use for centuries. Early engines didn’t have much acceleration, but more modern propulsion uses clever gizmos and processing technology to improve the thrust. A Trifurcated Drive obtains the gasses needed as fuel through three different methods.

The primary source of fuel is a readily available locally stored source of hydrogen rich water. The system breaks it down into particles and separates the oxygen from the hydrogen. The O2 is used in life support, the hydrogen is ionised as fuel. The second source is by using magnetic scoops to pull particles in from space around us. They’re filtered and sorted by useability and fed into the engines, as Eric described. The last method is somewhat more exotic, and far beyond my understanding. It uses quantum effects to pull particles and energy from bordering dimensions, and the fuel just sort of materialises into our dimension, or brane, and powers the system.

This last type is the most unstable and unreliable, providing the least amount of thrust. The only positive thing about it, is that you seemingly gain the fuel from nowhere. It’s often used as a last resort by ships that run out of all other fuels. The thrust provided by the drive comes in stops and starts, shunting the ship in shuddering tugs that makes travel under this method uncomfortable. It’s lovingly referred to as travelling under puff. Captains who are known for their arrival into POIs while under puff get nicknames such as Captain Puffer, or The Good Ship Puff-along. Such a reputation is hard to shake.

“Okay,” called Mal, “hatch is open. Let’s go, Seth.”

I groaned inwardly, I’d just worked out the kink in my back from the last crawl. Mal went first, pushing a tool bag along in front of him. I climbed down headfirst and slid into the crawl space below. It was hot and stuffy, and sweat broke out almost immediately as I began to thread my way through the tubing.

“How did they manage to get through here with enough equipment to affix a bomb in here?” I mused.

“A good engineer knows his way around a space,” Mal said, referring to these worm tubes, “You’re not claustrophobic too, are you?”

“Screw you, Cuts. Hurry up and let’s get this done.”

You should be coming up on the first stage of the cyclotron waveguide now. Looks like a rectangular tube with a fine mesh braid around it. Eric texted me.

I see it. Cuts is removing something up ahead.

That should be an inspection port covering, you’ll need to get the vid-drone ready.

Right.

The plan was to put a small remote camera into the waveguide, rather than remove the whole waveguide, which would take about an hour to do. The vid-drone was the size of a child’s fist, and could see in the infrared, the ultraviolet and in the x-ray band widths. Mal had the plate off in no time and was gesturing impatiently for the drone while I was pairing it up with our overlays. When it was done I handed it to him and he pushed in into the waveguide.

A small window had opened in my overlay, which I expanded and focused on as the feed from the drone started coming in. It moved along using a tiny gravity generator, useful for small in-door movement but little else. Most drones of this type used them. The drone soon came upon a small metal box that had several cables running out of it that looked welded onto the waveguide walls. It had a low profile, so as not to disrupt the flow of particles down the waveguide.

That looks like it. Came Eric’s text.

Looks like a capacitive transducer. Offered Mal.

What’s that? I asked.

Eric explained that the probes that extended from the box measured the electrical state of the waveguide, probably detecting it’s nearness to other conductive surfaces. He guessed that it would register a change in capacitance if we tried to remove the waveguide, and probably detonate.

You know, I could probably program some nanites to reconstruct a cage around the bomb and probes, and just peel the probes off the waveguide.

We don’t know if the probes are measuring the whole section or just the nearby conductors.

True, we’d need more measurements before we could do that. I could use an analysis Nano-package to get a full break down of the signal-processing going on. Drone, switch to x-ray.

The drone’s vision switched to a different colour scheme, which turned most of the surfaces translucent. I could see several of the components that made up the bomb, and the drone began to read electrical impulses as they flowed through the device. I keyed Fel into the feed.

What do you make of this? I asked. Eric repeated his earlier observations to him.

Doesn’t look too sophisticated, it’s just in a bad spot, really.

I think we’d need to use some guess work with this one, and as an engineer I hate using guess work.

I might be able to help you out with that analysis Nano-package. We’d have to leave the scoops offline for a while though, they’ll interfere with our readings.

Agreed. First Mate? What’s your call?

I think I’d better bump this up to Max. I know she wants these bombs taken care of, but taking a third of our options for propulsion off the table while underway is risky.

So is carrying around a bomb. Said Mal, and for once I agreed with him.

Yeah ok, I’m calling it. Start the package, and I’ll talk it out with Max. If she says to cut it we can always recover the nanites.

Or burn them as fuel, ha-ha.

Thanks, Cuts, retorted Fel, and I can always recover their costs by taking a cut of your pay share.

You want to come down here again and collect them?

No, that would be your job. I explained. Mal grumbled a little and started to grab the drone.

Stop! Don’t move! Interjected Eric urgently. Mal froze, his arm halfway into the waveguide. I could see why, the drone’s image of the bomb showed increased energy levels in the bomb, as if multiple components powered up simultaneously.

It seems that Mr Cutler was a little hasty in his eagerness to get the job over with. Said Fel, You’ve triggered a proximity sensor.

Why didn’t the drone set it off?

Unsure.

We all reviewed the data we’d collected so far.

What sets the drone apart from Mal’s hand? Mused Fel.

They both have gravity, they both have electrical potential. I said.

The drone has wireless transmitters. Said Eric

I have wireless, my overlay!

Not in your hand. We all thought hard about the predicament.

We can’t risk you moving your hand out of the waveguide. What if it sets it off?

What if I CAN’T move my hand? I’m not staying down here!

My hand has wireless transmitters. I offered. Mal looked at me in surprise, his face sweaty and grimy. Eric send me a single ? and left it at that.

Maybe if I put my hand in there next to Mal’s, then he can pull out. Once it registers that it’s a drone nearby it might let me go as well.

That might work. Came Fel’s reply.

Should we get Max in on this? Asked Eric, She might have qualms about putting you at risk.

If I can put myself at risk instead of a crewmate, that’s my job, Eric.

What if it doesn’t work at all?

I’m willing to take that risk. What’s the alternative? We leave Cuts down here, and the scoops offline indefinitely?

Everyone was silent for a few minutes, contemplating our options. They weren’t good. In the end, we decided to try it. I wriggled up next to Cuts while he moved as far down the space as he could while keeping his arm inside the waveguide. There was just enough room for me to reach in as well. It was tight, but I got my hand in and grabbed his wrist.

“When I let go of you, slowly pull your arm out and keep an eye on the energy readings from the bomb. If they spike, stop.” I said to him.

“Okay.” He was shaking nervously. I gently let his wrist go and he started to retract his arm from the waveguide. We all kept out eyes glued on the drone’s read out, but when he was nearly out of the waveguide the energy readings died down to their original levels. Mal pulled the rest of the arm out and lay back breathing heavily in relief. In a few seconds he started to wriggle away further down the shaft.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“Away from you, incase it goes off.”

“You’re kidding me? Thanks for the support!” I couldn’t believe is audacity, but knew that deep down he was right. Why risk both of us?

I’m going to start moving out now. I informed the others. Ever so slowly, I started to move my arm backwards. Fortunately, the energy readings didn’t spike, not even once, and I breathed a sigh of relief when I was out. I called out the drone and packed it up. I ignored Mal and took my things and crawled backwards out of the shaft. Eric helped me to my feet and gave me a look.

“Get going, I’ll deal with Cuts.” I nodded to him and headed back the way we’d come, towards the central engineering space. I got some satisfaction from knowing that Eric was about to chew Cuts out in a way that only engineers could. A process that Eric referred to as contact counselling.

11.

I was sitting across from Max and Fel at the small round conference table in the Captain’s quarters. As the Captain, Max was entitled to a small stateroom, complete with table and chairs as well as a writing desk. There were star charts and memorabilia all over the compartment, a healthy mix of history and future exploits to come. We were discussing our current predicament.

“So you think these nanites can get enough data about what that bomb is sensing to trick it?” recapped Max, as she turn a container filled with what looked like fine dust.

“I think it’s the only way we’re going to get a good enough idea about what we’re dealing with, yes.” Replied Fel’negr. He took the container from Max and tapped a button on the side of it. Data streams began to flood into our overlays, relaying things such as ambient temperatures, atmospheric content, surface tension, background radiation and other radiant energies.

“They should take about fifty two hours to gather enough data. Eric is sure that we can use another package to etch a cage around the bomb and use the nanites to feed a dummy signal into the probes.”

“Two days without the scoops? That’s a long haul running on only secondary propulsion.”

“I’ve checked with Eric, he says we have plenty of water in the tanks. At least a week’s worth running at full power.”

“Yeah and then we’ll just puff the rest of the way to the Jump Gate.”

“Would I ever make a puffer of you, Max?”

“You’d better not. What’s your take on all this, Seth?”

“Well, we need more information before we can try to remove this bomb, we can halt acceleration for 2 days while we do it, that way we save our water.”

“You don’t think that bitch will know something is up if we just coast for 2 days?”

“I’m sure that I can come up with a plausible story for why we’re not under thrust for a time, but she’s not stupid. Maybe drop acceleration down to one day. We don’t use as much fuel, and we still gain a day of velocity.”

“But you’re sure we should try and remove this bomb?”

“Definitely.”

She sat and mulled it over for a full minute before nodding to herself and gave Fel the go ahead. He left and headed for engineering. I made to leave too, but Max grabbed my arm and nodded to the chair again. I sat, and prepared myself for another one of her chats.

“How are things with you, Donny? Have you managed to have a chat with Zoe?”

“Yeah, I have, actually.”

“And?”

“It…it’s still going to take some time. But I’m working things out.”

She looked surprised.

“I guess you were right. She’s a different person when she starts doing her job, less questions and more conversation.”

“She’s very gifted. We’re lucky to have her.”

“I can see that now. Did she tell you she wants to play with my Augs?”

“She might have mentioned it, yes.”

“Oh, so you knew about the Nano-proliferation thing?”

“What did you say?”

“You did know? Did you put her up to it?”

“What have you got against NP? You don’t think it’s useful?”

“I’ve no doubt that it would be. I just don’t want to be a freak show crazy person is all!”

“What’s so freakish about technology? It’s the only reason you’re still alive, remember?”

“At what point do I cease being me? Where do we draw the line at where I’m still human and not some machine with fleshy parts attached?”

“You already have a computer in your brain, this just takes it up another notch and…”

“And it turns me into a freaking nanite factory!”

“You’ve already seen some of the things we can do with nanites.”

It was true that Nanotechnology is used in many tasks aboard a starship. We use it to perform repairs on the hull, for example, instead of welding new plating onto the hull, we simply grow it with nanites programed to do just that. Feed them raw material and they convert it into useful shapes and even bonds it to the existing plates. Our shields are projected by a nanite-controlled effect. When a shield is depleted, it’s actually because the nanites that control the field have all burnt out and the generator is producing more. Where Nano-proliferation differs from regular nanites is in the programming.

Nanites are manufactured to fulfil a set task and are then discarded once their power runs out, we call it burning out. Nano-proliferation allows the user to rewrite the programs of the nanites they produce on the fly, allowing for a whole slew of programs to be running at once. It requires intense concentration and lots of training to create effects that regular nanites were never meant to be able to create. What scares me is what if the nanites an NP user creates are able to break free of the user’s direction? They’re not purpose built, so they can pretty much do whatever they want. What if they started to self-replicate to infinity? Theoretically they could consume everything and grow exponentially, become a true scourge on the galaxy. Sounds a lot like NP is playing with fire.

“I’ve gotten through my whole life without NP, and I see no reason why that needs to change.”

“I’m going to flick a data file to you. It’s a series of training videos talking about Nano-proliferation. Not just what they can do, but also the ethical and moral issues that arise from their use. I know you have misgivings about it, but having that kind of capability would be an enormous boon on this job. Power has a tendency to corrupt, I understand that, but the best wielders of such power are those that never wanted it to begin with. I trust you. I believe in you, and your strong sense of right and wrong. If you hold to your principles, you will be an amazing person able to achieve amazing things with this ability.”

I sat there staring at my hands. She’d struck a chord within me. My biggest fear is letting down the people that rely on me. Isn’t this just one more tool that I can use to do my people right? What if the only thing that stands between defeat and success is something I can do with NP? It was a heavy question weighing me down. It was a guilt that I felt was trying to swallow me whole. I’d let down my squad, I wasn’t fast enough or strong enough, or smart enough to get them home alive. Only I was able to come back. I couldn’t live with that kind of pain again.

“I’ll think about it.”

“That’s all I ask.” she said, and she gave me hand a squeeze, “Now, what’s this I hear about you cutting up that bitch’s face?”

12.

That night, while resting in my cabin, I watched a few of the videos that Max had sent me. They looked like they’d been prepared to education someone who was thinking about pursuing the technology, lots of statistics and warnings. There was one video talking about the kinds of augmentations that were needed to take advantage of NP, and what types of implants one could gain. Apparently, there were several different types of Nano-proliferation. This was news to me, I’d always assumed you either had NP or you didn’t. I suppose it makes sense, once I thought about it, most technology was the same. There were always different ways to achieve the same result.

The most common type were referred to as Specialists. They picked a field of applications and modded themselves out to better apply those principles. For example, there were Specialists who focused on thermal applications. Their augmentations tended to grant them resistances to extreme temperature ranges. Movers, Specialists who worked with gravity effects, tended to sport lots of sensors for picking up gravity and support Augs that allowed them to carry extra mass. Analysts, who used their nanites for scanning and data collection, needed massive data storage potential and computational devices built into their Augs. There were literally dozens of Specialist types, and those who take on multiple specialties were called Hybrids.

A minority of Nano-proliferation users were not outfitted for any specialty, usually those who came into the technology through necessity or who found they had Augs that would allow them to use NP with only minor alterations, such as in my case. In the growing subculture that was NP use, these types of users were called G-Types. This was slang for Generalists. They were by far the most versatile, but that lack of focus also meant they rarely gained enough skill in any one field to be considered a true virtuoso of the application. I got the feeling that these vids were aimed at Specialists, since that did seem to be to correct way to get into NP in the first place.

Another thing that I learned was from a conference regarding the capture and subsequent execution of a criminal that used Nano-proliferation to perpetrate his crimes. I remembered something of this case from several years ago, and was one of the horror stories surrounding NP. He was dubbed The Reaper by popular tabloids at the time, because he left his victims devoid of flesh. He used the nanites in his body to eat the meat from his victim’s bones. The video I was watching asserted that the Reaper was an already unstable person, who had a hidden fetish for cruel and unusual torture. As a Corporate man, his access to such technology was unfettered. He already commanded vast resources and it was no difficulty for him to outfit himself in private with the accoutrements and augmentations required to excel at his twisted fantasy. They surmised that it wasn’t the Nano-proliferation that caused his psychosis, but merely an outlet for an already unhinged psyche.

The rest of the same vid included several other documentaries of the same theme, showing how NP was not the cause of the horror, merely the tool used to express it. I wasn’t fully convinced, but I could at least see their point of view. If a deranged star ship captain launched a class 4 weapon strike against a populated habitat, I’m sure there would be plenty of people calling for their outlawing.

This kind of debate occurred all throughout history. It argued that just because man could, should he? As technological advances were made, each new insight into the future became the topic of fierce philosophical deliberation and argument. Ethical reasons why an avenue of technology should not be pursued were weighed against their potential benefits to mankind. The myriad ways that such advances could go awry, or be used to great harm were major obstacles in developing dangerous sciences.

War, however, always seemed to be the great reprieve. History is full of wars that were the driving force behind great leaps in understanding, in the creation of new and terrible ways to rend life from the living. Governments, pushing their scaremongering and fear into the masses, caused the common man to forgo caution in favour of pushing the technological envelope. No other motivator has had as much an influence as war, perhaps besides exploration.

The third great motivator was death. Restoring health, alleviating pain and prolonging life were the great drive in medical sciences, and it was this last cause that bore fruit to Nano-proliferation. The first recorded use of nanites to heal the body was nearly two hundred years ago, although in those early days of Nanotechnology the nanites were crude and much specialised compared to today’s devices. They could be used to convert sugars in the body into blood, or remove toxins and repair damage. They could be used to target cancerous cells and infected organs. Eventually, as with other technological discoveries, more uses were found for nanites. The more common use is in the form of Nano-packages; single use nanites that could be programed to perform a function and then burn out, such as the scanner nanites that Fel was preparing to use. Engineering applications began to benefit from nanites as well, all a builder had to do was provide raw materials and a design and the nanites did the rest.

Programing nanites became a much sought after profession, and it remains one of the few technologies and commodities that the Corporations don’t have a monopoly on. Nano-proliferation, still in its infancy, has only been around for a few decades and its worth, or danger, to galactic society is still being debated.

The last of the vids that I watched were demonstrations and instructions on manipulating the nanites themselves. There were many references and techniques that were unfamiliar to me and I didn’t, for the most part, find these useful.

I slept that night and dreamt of clouds of uncontrolled nanoscopic robots tearing me apart from within, and my crew were there with me suffering the same fate. Only they were screaming at me to stop.

In the morning, I was down on Deck 2 sipping a mug of coffee, when Artemis joined me. I let her know she wasn’t welcome by giving her my best sneer. She ignored it, of course, and sat down anyway. She splashed a little hot coffee from the mug she held onto her hand and she swore.

“So you do feel pain?”

“Despite what you may think of me, I am human.”

“And you do bleed.”

“How’s your arm, by the way? I didn’t cut you too deep?”

“I didn’t know you cared.”

“Of course I do. I want your crew to succeed. It may surprise you that I do consider myself on your side, you know.”

“I wish I could say the feeling’s mutual, but it isn’t.”

“You just haven’t warmed up to me just yet.”

“Kind of hard when you’re as cold as ice.”

“I have a warm, gooey centre. I could show you some time, if you’re game.”

“I thought you told Max you wouldn’t try and seduce me?”

“A little white lie. She’s not my mother, and she isn’t yours either. We’d just be two consenting adults.”

“One consenting adult, you mean?”

She made a clucking noise.

“Aw, don’t tell me you don’t find me the least bit attractive?” I swallowed, hard. I could feel my face heating up. She must have seen my face go red, because she laughed. “A woman can tell, you know?”

“Tell what?”

“When a man finds her attractive.”

“We don’t all think with our genitals.”

“Ha-ha,” there was that musical laugh again, “now there’s a little white lie if ever I heard one.”

Zoe chose that moment to walk into the mess room. She walked to the auto-chef and dialled in a steaming hot cup of tea. She walked over to our table and joined us.

“I hope you two are not planning a rematch? I’ve had enough of sewing up wounds this week.”

“No, we were just agreeing to disagree about something.” I diplomatically explained.

“Anything I can weigh in on?” there was Zoe, trying to be helpful.

“Of course! Three is always better than two!” Artemis said and launched into a giggling fit. She took the queue when neither of us laughed with, and she stood up and left, trailing a few more drops of coffee.

“What was that about?”

“Nothing, Zoe, she was just trying to confuse me.”

She stared at the hatch that Artemis just left through for a moment, then turned back to me sipping her tea. I could see it was one of those natural varieties, herbal something or other.

“Is bunking with her giving you any trouble?” I asked, trying to change the subject.

“No, she keeps to herself mostly. You seem to be the only person she talks with. It must be very lonely for her.”

“Don’t tell me you feel sorry for her?”

“Not sorry, per se, more like pity. Is that the same thing?”

“I guess not. What have you got planned today?”

“Eric is taking me through the engineering spaces this morning, but after that I was going to take a look at some research I’m conducting for my thesis.”

“I was hoping to continue our conversation we had the other day regarding my…um…condition.”

“Okay, I can ask Eric for a raincheck…”

“No, your ship duties come first.”

“How about after lunch then?”

“Deal. I won’t keep you from your research for long.”

“Take as much time as you need, my research can wait.”

I thanked her and finished my coffee as Crege came in, ordering a large bowl of cereal from the auto-chef. He sat down as I stood up and began a conversation with Zoe, between beakfuls of milk and sugary grains. I could hear her laughing as I left the compartment.

The next few days were rather uneventful. I started going to see Zoe regularly, for about an hour every day or two, not really talking about much, just working out different feelings. I never really told her my full story, but she never pressed it me for it either. The scanner Nano-package completed its job and Eric and Fel began working on a way to remove the bomb. I kept watching the vids that Max had given me and started to educate myself properly on Nano-proliferation.

I stayed away from Artemis as much as I was able, but I couldn’t avoid her entirely. She came down to watch Crege and me sparring a couple of times, and eventually she must have decided to make it a regular thing. It made me uncomfortable for her to watch me while I trained, and Crege tool advantage of my distractions repeatedly, chiding me each time he tagged me.

Mal stumbled across the third bomb by accident, when we were almost two days out from the Jump Gate. It was mounted below a pressure manifold on the main water tank. We worked out that the bomb could probably be removed by pressurising the bomb and freezing it with nanites. Only problem was we didn’t have that kind of package on board. Max decide to add a cryo-nanite package to our shopping list when we got to the Harakiwa System on the other side of the Jump Gate.

13.

The day after Mal found the third bomb we had trouble once more. I’d mentioned before that there were several different ways to conduct combat in space. When a ship was underway, and travelling at great speeds, there was really only one way to try and take out another ship. When ships were entering the final stages of braking before reaching their destinations they were vulnerable to another type of combat – drone warfare. Why risk your ship when you can have a remote controlled craft do it for you.

The idea was that when you knew a ship was going to be at low speed and within the vicinity, you could leave a squadron of combat drones and program them to disable a target. They’re small, fast and extremely hard to shoot down with conventional ship weaponry. The best way to deal with a drone attack is to launch drones of your own and let them mete it out. The Dreaming ran into a cloud of these bastards, as they were lying in wait for us with minimal power. Going dark is a sure way to avoid being detected by ship sensors, as they will most often be classified as a navigational hazard and minute adjustments to our course can compensate for it. When a swarm of them powered up at close range and began an attack run, a ship-wide alert sounded.

I was second person to get to the command module, and Hergo was giving Crege a hand over on what he saw – which wasn’t much – before he dashed off in a hurry to get to his station below deck. Max was close behind me and busied ourselves hurriedly configuring our consoles for combat.

“Drones,” hissed Crege as he took the Dreaming through a neck bending series of turns, “Cowards weapon.”

“I’m here.” Came Fell as he crashed into his seat, barely managing to strap himself in before Crege took us through another bend.

“Status!” barked Max.

“Shields at full power, nine fast contacts dead ahead. Time to intercept forty seven seconds!”

“Crege! Give us five gee’s of acceleration and head north seventy five degrees!”

“Aye aye, kitrak!”

“All hands, brace for impact!”

I’m not on station! Help! Came a frantic text from Zoe.

Where are you?

Mess deck!

I checked my console and pinged the closest person to her.

Artemis. I need you to unbuckle and go get Zoe, she’s in the mess hall. You have thirty seconds. Acknowledge.

onit luverboi

I blinked. Did I mention I was slow around women?

“Seth, deploy interceptors, on my mark!”

“Roger, drone controls online. Link up paired.”

“Deploy!” I activated the drone control link and the ship jettisoned several defensive drones we use just for this purpose.

Seth! Artemis has me!

Yeah just get into your cabin and lock yourself down in your bunk.

My overlay showed me several screens that contained visual and sensor data from the inteceptors. These drones were different to the ones that were attacking us. Offensive drones need stealth to be successful, and strong weapons. Defensive drones needed good sensors, and point defence weaponry. I initiated a wide defensive screen formation, giving overlapping fields of fire and making sure none of the offensive drones could pass by without coming into range of the interceptors.

What about my station? Zoe was talking about the med lab.

Don’t worry about it, just secure yourself down. Hurry!

Z secured. We’re snuggling.

Thanks, Art. What, I had a nickname for her now? I berated myself internally.

The drones passed the interceptors and sensors picked up several successful hits. My drones gave chase as the remaining drones made their attack run on the Dreaming.

“Six contacts survived! Weapons fire detected!” called Fel

The Dreaming shuddered and I could hear a staccato of loud pops as the drones opened fire.

“Shields down! Breach detected forward cargo hold deck.”

“Damage control teams to forward cargo. Breach detected.” Commanded Max over the PA.

“Interceptors engaging contacts!” I ordered my drones into a wedge formation and dove them into the dispersing cloud of attackers. At the last minute I split them into two groups to try and drive them apart. If any survived they’ll be forced to spread their attacks across different vectors and won’t be able to concentrate their fire on a single section.

“Detonations detected! Four contacts survived!”

“Drone signatures detected at red three zero, sixty degrees south!”

“More of them?” asked Max through clenched teeth. G forces were taking their toll on our bodies. “How long til intercept?”

“Fifty nine seconds!”

One of my drone feeds went black as the enemy drones fought back. The initial drone swarm was a distraction to get our interceptors out of the way. Now the main attack was to begin.

“Separation of drone signature. Reading ten contacts!” called Fel.

Shit, I thought, ten more drones! Things were not looking good. I only had five more interceptors, and they were all tied up taking apart the four remaining drones from the initial assault. I had an idea.

“Crege, take us around and come in at green one two seven on the level!”

“Near our drones?”

“Yes!”

“What are you thinking, Seth?” asked Max.

“At the last minute I’ll disengage the interceptors and have them screen the Dreaming. The drones should all bunch up when they’re not dogfighting my interceptors, and they should even join the new swarm. I’ll charge the Beamer and see if we can score some cheap shots.”

“Do it!”

“Beamer charging. Won’t have time for a full charge shot, but doesn’t need to be max power to take these out.”

Crege swung the ship around and headed for the drone dogfight I had my interceptors in. Another enemy drone was taken out by me, but so was one of the interceptors. I had four more left to take three plus a new swarm of ten.

“Captain, one of the enemy contacts is operating with a different signature than the other drones. I believe it may be a ship, small but not a drone.” Said Fel.

“Prioritise attacks on the incoming drones, we’ll worry about the mystery ship once we deal with these bastards.”

“Aye, Captain!”

“Calak ahead!” called Crege, as we entered the first wave of drones. One more of the drones was destroyed by the interceptors before I ordered them to break away and form another screen. Crege swung us around and manage to clip one of the enemy drones, sending it tumbling out of control.

“Drones engaging! Beamer tracking under manual control!” I took control of the beamer and swept it in the direction of the oncoming swarm as the Dreaming corkscrewed into a tight turn. The G forces were immense. I hear Fel whimper behind me. When I saw the interceptors engage the drones, I fired the beamer and lanced it into the enemy swarm.

“Fel! Drone status?” I called, when there was no reply Max looked behind her.

“He’s out, I’m seeing spots. Crege, level us out, fast! We’re losing consciousness!”

Crege stopped his mad spin and straightened the ship out. My head stopped spinning and blood started flowing properly again. I heard Fel stirring. Max tapped some commands on her console and quickly reconfigured her station.

“Good shot! We took out five of the drones. Five left.” She reported.

“Interceptors engaging.”

“Weapons fire detected! All hands brace!”

Once more the ship was wracked with hits from the enemy drones.

“Hull breaches detected Deck 2, main spaces!” Max called.

Seth! Artemis is hurt! There’s air hissing through the bulkheads!

“Zoe has injured. She on the scene but there’s a hull breach near her.”

“Damage control teams! New priority, Deck 2 hull breach main living spaces! Engineering, seal all hatches to forward cargo once Hergo and Denno report they’re clear!”

“Aya aye, Captain!”

Stay calm, Zoe. Can you see a canister of polycrete foam? Should be near the fire extinguisher.

Yeah I already used it, the leaks have stopped, but Artemis is in bad shape. Shrapnel went into her and didn’t exit. She’s bleeding out.

A coldness seeped into my gut. If she dies…boom, the charges go off and we’re dead meat.

“I’m okay. Sorry, Captain.” Said Fel in a groggy voice.

“Systems are yours, Fel. No harm done.”

The enemy drones had scattered, and I couldn’t use the beamer again for a few minutes anyway. My interceptors were keeping up with the drones, however and starting to take them apart.

“Enemy contact moving to intercept. High G thrust! Time to intercept eleven seconds!” That was fast! They must have been pulling close to ten gee’s. That kind of acceleration is nearly fatal to living beings. Then my time in the military paid off.

“They’re boarding pods! Synthetic assault team!” I called.

“All hands brace for impact!”

Synthetics were common parlance for robots. They were used in all manner of tasks throughout the galaxy, from manual labour to security and military applications. They were cheap, didn’t complain about conditions, and could be used in hostile environments. They were not the smartest workers, however, and usually required some kind of supervision. These would be one of the several military synthetic models that were in circulation. I’d fought against them before and despite their lack of sophisticated tactics, where effective troops. No one likes to fight against a foe that never gives up, never surrenders and never retreats. They fight to the last, unless their controller recalls them.

An almighty crash sounded throughout the ship as the boarding pod collided with ours. Boarding pods are nothing more than an engine with a small compartment attached to the front. Magnetic clamps secure the pod to enemy ships, and plasma cutters sheer through the hull plating granting access to the ship.

“Hull breach detected Deck 2 main living spaces!”

“Seth, pass drone control to Fel. Crege, get out I’ll pilot. You two go deal with our boarders.”

“Yes, ma’am!” I called as I bounded out of my seat and punched open a locker near the hatch to the command module. I reached inside and retrieved a sword and a T-43 blaster. The T-43 wasn’t as accurate at the PX-2, my weapon of choice, but it packs a heavier punch. It also chews through batteries faster. I grabbed a brace of batteries and stuffed them into my pockets while securing the T-43 into my leg holster. I debated a quick stop at my cabin to grab my ablative coat, but Crege flew down the ladder well to Deck 2 without waiting to see if I was following and thought better of it.

Deck 2 was a mess. A high pitched whistling sound and a stiff breeze told us there was air escaping, and the mess deck was a shambles. The mess deck was a circular affair, with several passages spreading fore and after from the mess deck that lead into the cabins. The port side bulkhead was ablaze with plasma and molten metal as the boarding pod was almost done with the cutting. Crege and I kicked over a table and hastily made some cover. We glanced at each other just before the bulkhead went crashing down, mentally checking ourselves for the coming fight. As the first synthetic stepped through the opening, we opened fire.

Our efforts were met with bright flashes of shield hits and Crege swore. Our barrage of shots managed to overload the first synthetic’s shield and the next few bolts smashed it into scrap metal. The rest of the robots poured in while we were taking down the sacrificial synthetic. The enemy was humanoid in shape, smaller than a normal human, but in place of legs were four spindly appendages that were used to navigate terrain. They hand two arms, one ending in an energy weapon, the other a grasping hand with an opposable digit. They had triangular heads, three camera mounts but no audio speakers.

The synthetics quickly spread out across the mess deck. Some went for cover while the five attempted to push us back. We concentrated fire on the one after the other, taking several shots to drop each shield. All up I countered a dozen of the robots, including the first one we’d taken down. We dropped three of the oncoming quintet but two broke into our ranks and we were forced to drop back and use our swords. The others in cover started to hop over their barricades and advance. Crege and I quickly fell back to the ladder well to the lower decks. If we could lure them away from the command module that should buy us some time.

We almost started down the ladder well when we saw Denno or Hergo coming up it.

“Down!” I called. “Are you armed?”

“Thudgunz!” came the hissing reply. Good, they’d rushed to the armoury before coming up. They must have been on their way to the mess deck to help Zoe when the impact had been called. Thudguns were the energy equivalent of a black powder shotgun. They fired short, wide bursts of gravitational energy. The effect is quite dramatic, literally pounding the crap out of whatever gets hit with the shock wave. The perfect weapon for repelling boarders.

“Fall back, we’re coming down. When we’re clear let them have it!”

The Argen backed down the ladder well and moved behind a supply crate. The two synthetics that rushed us leapt over the overturned tables we’d used as cover and we quickly moved to engage them in melee. I ducked inside a synthetic’s shield bubble and smashed my blade down on its weapon arm, tearing it free of the body. Crege’s lurzak flashed a brilliant blast of electrical energy and dispatched his foe in one savage chop. I ducked under my synthetic’s feeble attempt to grab me and I kicked it towards Crege who spun and smashed him blade into the robot’s torso. The burst of energy caused the synthetic to nearly explode. We quickly hit the deck as blaster shots peppered around us. I peered over the table and saw several more synthetics exit the drop pod and join the others, who began to advance in earnest now that we were not firing at them. We dashed down the ladder well and ran to where the two Argen were crouched down. When three of the synthetics were on the ladder, the two Argen let loose with their Thudguns. The effect was gratifying. Bits of synthetic were raining down all over the ladder well and the cargo hold below.

I noticed the whistling sound was stronger here, and the rush of air was making loose debris and clothing flap about. I turned behind me and saw three hull breaches in the deck about five metres behind me, near where Crege I and usually spar. The Argen had used a hull sealing compound called polycrete foam to start repairs on the breach, but were called away to assist Zoe before they could finish. Eric was waiting in engineering to seal the compartment off, but had not yet received the all clear from the Argen to do so. We were bleeding atmosphere. I grabbed the nearest Argen’s Thudgun off him and yelled over the din of rushing air.

“We’ll hold them here, you two finish up on the breaches!”

The pair nodded and the other tossed his Thudgun to Crege. They went to work immediately, grabbing a fresh canister of polycrete foam. More synthetics came down the ladder well, this time they just leapt down onto the deck below. Max decided at that time to do a high gee manoeuvre and we were all thrown to the deck in a sprawl. The synthetics were unsteady, but remained upright. They stared blasting shots at our cover. I scrambled back to my crate and fired a shot blindly over the top of the crate. I could hear more synthetics clanking down to the deck. Crege poked his head and gun over the lip of a crate and got off a blast the rocked two synthetics backwards but didn’t destroy them. The pause in fire as the synthetics adjusted their aim or steadied themselves was all I needed to lean out and get a good shot off. I hammered the pair that Crege had hit earlier, their shields depleted from his blast. A dull thud and a loud bang was followed by the sound of a bucket of bolts being thrown against the bulkhead. I counted seven more synthetics. I turned my Thudgun to the side and checked the charge. I was down to a four shots left.

The problem with Thudguns is that they’re manufactured by one of those companies that decide that standardised ports and connectors are a bad thing, and chose to go with propriety designed batteries and charging. This meant that you had to use Thudgun batteries or a Thudgun charging cable. I guess it made sense from a revenue prospective, but it was awfully inconvenient when you had a pocket full of batteries that won’t fit and four shots left.

I snapped off another shot over the crate but I only snagged one of the robots and overloaded its shields. They were beginning to disperse and find cover on the other side of the cargo hold. A couple of bolts smacked into my crate for my efforts, and a piece of shrapnel cut my ear as I dropped back down.

Crege popped up as I went down and fired off another shot, but all I could here was the sound of supply crates banging together. I looked over at him, grimly. The crazy bastard was smiling excitedly.

“We have the calak pinned!” he called

“So are we!”

He appeared to consider that for a moment and then he popped up again and fired once more. This time I could hear more than one shield pop and fizzle. I followed him up and fired in the same direction, catching two who had tried to advance. One exploded and the other was spun about and thrown back into some crates. Crege stayed up and fired again into another cluster of crates covering the synthetics. The crates broke free of their securing straps and went tumbling into the robots behind them. I caught his intent and join his barrage, firing off my last two rounds. We tossed our guns aside and I drew my pistol, snapping off loud, heavy blaster bolts at the exposed synthetics. Crege leaped clear over the crates with Garz’a battle cry and started pounding his lurzak blade into the disoriented robots. They were trying to decide if they should find more cover or turn to face the crazed warrior. Their inability to adjust tactics quickly was their undoing, and we made short work of them in no time. I blasted the final synthetic to pieces as Crege spun about looking for more targets. When he could see no more, he threw his head back let off a triumphant screech that sounded eerily like an eagle.

Hergo and Denno finished patching up the breeches and we went up to Deck 2 to start on securing the boarding pod. I left the others to work and went in search of Zoe. As I jogged through the living spaces I sent Max a message.

Boarders eliminated. Forward Cargo breech contained. Damage control started on boarding pod breech. Checking in on Zoe.

Very good! Last of the drones are destroyed, we’re getting the Dreaming back on task.

We were safe, for now. Unless Artemis dies. Then we’re all screwed.

14.

I got to Zoe’s cabin hatch and caught my breath. I hit the hatch release and saw Zoe covered in blood holding Artemis’ head in her lap. Artemis was unconscious, bloody bed sheets tied around her upper torso. She was pale and sickly looking, a cold sweat mingling with the blood on her face. She looked so vulnerable. I realised I was staring.

“I couldn’t move her by myself.” Explained Zoe, looking up at me, “We need to get her to med lab. She needs blood nanites.”

“Right, is she stable?”

“For now, but her pulse is weak. She took a piece of the bulkhead into her clavicle and it nicked an artery. I clamped it with my kit, but we have to be careful when we carry her that it doesn’t break free.”

“Ok, can we get a stretcher? Might make it safer.”

“Hurry.”

I ran back down the passageway to one of the many emergency lockers positioned around the ship and pulled out a pair of rods a metre long. I ran back and I activated the rods and they telescoped out to over two metres long and were joined by a fabric netting. We carefully slid it under the comatose Artemis and then lifter her gentle. Zoe was small and lacked any real muscle, but she hoisted the stretcher without any qualms. I began to realise her strength was lent to her by adrenaline and worry, the same kind that lets a mothers tear the doors off a burning vehicle to save a child.

We made our way down to med lab and transferred Artemis to the surgical table. Zoe immediately went to work once more. She connected several probes and administered an injection then paused briefly, her eyes twitching from side to side. She must have been reading data off her overlay fed to her by the monitoring devices. She ran around the table, started rifling through a medical cabinet, and came back with a few bundles of nanite packages and more bandages and sutures.

“Out!” she yelled, as she ran around the table again to a different cupboard, I had to move away to let her pass.

“Let me know if she gets any worse?” I asked as I backed out of the compartment.

“Yep.”

Max, we need to evacuate engineering spaces. Artemis is in critical condition.

On it. Get back up here.

On my way.

When I got to the command module, Crege was back in the pilot’s seat and Fel was mashing keys all over his console. Max was in the middle of a conversation over the communications link.

“I understand that, but I can’t comply with your request. I don’t know who it is you’re looking for. They’re certainly not on this boat. Dreaming of Atmosphere over.”

She looked up at me in worry as I sat down and took stock of our sensors and status. We’d taken a beating from those drones, but with some hull repair we’ll be ship shape in a few hours. Only a few systems were damaged, but luckily most of the hits landed in the cargo hold and the living spaces. It looked like all our hull breeches were contained. What was worrying was the contact we were reading at eleven million kilometres ahead. I was betting that it was the control ship that left behind those drones. My sensor readings were off, somehow. I turned to Fel for clarification.

“It’s an organo-ship.” He said simply.

Organo-ships, or Organic Ships, are vessels that are the sole propriety of the Corporations. They are composed of a blend of Nanotechnology and bio-technology fused into massive ships that are more alive than they are simple metal and machine. They are great black leviathans that linger at the periphery of the frontiers, but mostly prowl the inner systems worlds. The Corporations are the masters of the galaxy; they hold all the patents, control all the technology and lend all the money. Even the Galactic Protectorate dances to their tune. The Corporations are not one governing body, however, they are a collective of super massive companies that span generations. They hold themselves aloof from galactic society in general, and instead keep their own company. They are the distant emperors and bankers of the known universe.

The organo-ships are a totally unknown technology to most people, only a select few understand how they operate or function outside of Corporate circles. They rarely become involved in the affairs of mortal men, but when they did it was seldom to the betterment of whoever was caught up in their schemes. No, the presence of an organo-ship was bad news. Bad news for us.

Max was waiting for a reply from the ship she was talking with, as due to the distances instantaneous communication was impossible. There was about a thirty second delay in the conversation. She connected me to the feed so that I could listen in. After a tense wait the reply came in.

“Spear of Orion copies your last. You’ll forgive me if I do not take your word for it. Shuttles are enroute to you position and will intercept in twelve hours. Maintain your present course and speed. Any deviation or hostile action against our shuttles will be considered a hostile action against the Koveli-Xue Galactic Corporation. Acknowledge this transmission and your compliance. Spear of Orion over.”

Max looked straight ahead, her brow furrowed.

“We can’t outrun them, not with our hull breeches.” I reminded her.

“They want Artemis.”

“What? Why? How did they know she was here?”

“Does it matter? If they take her off here, she could set off the bombs. Or they could go off automatically. Or they could kill her and the bombs go off as well.”

“We could use old Hieron’s smuggling compartment.”

“That’s not even magnetically shielded.”

“It doesn’t need to be, they won’t even think to look for a cavity.”

She mulled it over.

“We don’t have much choice do we? We’ll have to do some forensics clean up. And clear the memory of the synthetics, can’t have them re-activating them and seeing they’ve been duped. We got twelve hours.” She activated the comms link, “Dreaming of Atmosphere acknowledges your last. Standing by for compliance. Dreaming of Atmosphere out.”

Max then went and piped all the crew to the cargo deck for a meeting. It was quick and to the point, filling us all in on what transpired and how we were going to proceed. Eric and Mal were to begin repairs immediately, Hergo and Denno were to assist. Fel was collect all the brain modules of the synthetics do wipe them while Zoe was to work to get Artemis stable enough to enshroud her in an old smuggling compartment that my grandfather had installed during his more adventurous days. Max went to work with Crege making sure all that any blood in the med lab and living spaces was removed or at least made unidentifiable. I helped, starting on Zoe’s cabin, and was ensuring the polycrete foam in place there was good enough for now.

I stripped the bedding from the bunks, as both were spattered in blood, and used them to mop up what I could. I got a bucket of water from the mess compartment and went to work. I also got a few bottles of ammonia and bleach to mask any DNA traces.

I was perhaps an hour into my job when Zoe came into the compartment. She was pale, and covered in dried blood from working on Artemis. She walked straight into her shower stall, clothes and all, and let the hot water wash on to her. The screen was opaque, but I could clearly see her silhouette through the glass. I saw her strip down out of her jump suit and saw bloody water splash onto the shower screen. She had a slender, almost lithe body and before I could see more, I realised that I was staring.

I went back to work, trying my best to ignore that fact that there was a naked young woman showering not three metres from me. It was difficult.

“I can come back.” I called to her.

“No, I’m almost done. Can you pass me a towel?” came her reply. Good god, my face started to turn red again.

“Ah…okay. Shit. I used it to mop up blood.”

“My bottom locker. Should be another one there.”

“Okay.” I bent down to open it, and pulled out another towel. When I turned around, still on my knees, she’d opened the shower and had stepped out. Water ran down her tight body in rivulets, following her curves. I watch a single drop go from the tip of her dark hair, which was pasted to her shoulder, down her chest, between her small, perfectly formed breasts, down her belly button, and was lost in a light tangle of pubic hair. I stupidly held the towel out for her, my mouth agape. It had been a while since I’d seen a woman in all her glory like this. Space can be a lonely place.

She stepped up to me and ran her fingers through my sweat-caked hair. She was nervous, I could see, and she had a longing in her eyes that mingled with the fear and uncertainty that had been her world for the past few hours. I wanted to hold her, to make her fear go away. But most of all I wanted to fill her longing.

I pulled her hand down to my mouth and kissed it. She cupped my face in her hands and pulled me up to kiss me. I stood, and encircled her in my arms. She was shivering, and I wasn’t sure it was because of the cabin temperature. Her probing hands tore the clips on my jump suit open and she peeled me free of it, our mouths still locked in a deep kiss. I stepped out of the suit and carried her to her bunk. A part of my mind nagged that I shouldn’t take advantage of her like this, that I had a duty to her as her Space Daddy. A louder, more insistent part of my mind told me that we both needed this.

We made love, consuming our need and burning away the terror and the stress of combat and danger. It was passion, pure and simple, and it drove our desire like fuel tossed on a fire. When we were spent, we didn’t speak, only lay there for a few minutes more before duty drove us to get up. I surveyed the cabin, the scent of ammonia and sex strong on the air. I’d cleaned the blood off the deck, and the ammonia had taken care of any that had seeped into cracks or grooves. My work here was done. I bent to grab the bucket and rags I was using, but Zoe just took my arm.

“Leave it, I’ll finish here.” She looked me in the eyes as she said it, and gave me a faint smile that reached her eyes.

“Zoe…” I began.

“Thank you. For being here.” She shoved a bundle of my clothes at me and gave me a light push. I dressed quickly and left the cabin. I found that I was also smiling.

15.

Nearly ten hours later, we were closed up in the command module. The hull repairs were almost done, enough for us to get underway again. Artemis had been stabilised by a nanite injection that began to repair the damage to her body, and I’d helped Zoe rig up a portable monitoring sensor that would feed information to Zoe’s overlay. All while we worked, we never once mentioned our encounter, but I could see she was still thinking about. A subtle change had come over us, we stood closer than we needed, and we found reasons to get the other’s attention. Even though I knew little about medical technology, I somehow found myself useful.

I found myself pondering my new found attraction to her, and where it had come from. Was it simply my need for psychological healing that drove me to her? Was I being inappropriate, taking advantage of my position of authority over her? I’d always found her attractive, but I’d never found her appealing. Now all I could think about was her. At least I wasn’t thinking about Artemis anymore. Not that I was before. I mean, I wouldn’t even try, well she was very forward in her advances. She had a way of muddling up my thoughts when she was near. But now it was as if a fog had cleared from my mind. Now I despised her. I couldn’t even think of why I’d found her attractive before. She was poison, I could see that now, and Zoe was my antidote.

“What are you so happy about, Donny?” asked Max, who had caught my far away stare and the smile that was turning the corners of my mouth up.

“I’ll tell you later.”

“He fight with shirtan! Warrior smiles with pride!” came Crege in the front.

“You both did, I’m proud of you all.” said Max, grinning. She switched on the PA and spoke into the mic, “Whatever happens in the next few hours, I want you all to know that I’m proud of you all. You’ve handled this crisis with grace and courage. I love you all. Even you, Cuts.”

Fel turned around and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“It is always an honour to work under one of such calibre, Maxine, you do the Dreaming proud.”

“Kitrak!” came the salute from Crege, thumping his chest.

“You’re the best Captain on this ship, Max!” I said, grinning ear to ear. She thumped me on the arm and smiled back.

“You guys are horrible. Especially you, Donny.”

“The Corporate shuttles are hailing us, Captain” broke in Fel, “They’re asking us to ensure atmosphere is in the port airlock and prepare for boarding. The one designated Alpha is moving to dock. The Beta is standing off, probably on overwatch in case we try anything.”

“Let them in, tell them we’ll meet them at the airlock. Let’s go, Donny.”

This time I’d brought my ablative jacket and wore my PX-2. I even stashed a couple of party poppers in my jacket inner pocket. I escorted Max along Deck 1 to the port airlock and watched through the port holes as a black shape arranged itself over the outer airlock door. A few minutes later the outer door chimed and Max activate the release. He hatch irised open and several dark forms stepped through to the outer airlock chamber. There was two large, alien guards on either side of a man wearing a long black coat and suit that shimmered in the bright light. It was as if it was made of black gloss plastic, with tiny stars sparkling in the light. Behind the guards were four menacing looking synthetics. These were larger, more powerful robots, and they carried what looked like thermal cutters in their hands. A shoulder cannon rested on each synthetic, beside their angular heads.

The guards were pale green, almost blue-skinned men with nearly featureless faces. Pink, or pale red, eyes glowed faintly from their grim faces. These were instantly recognisable as Frikk, mercenaries from the Tantis System near the far side of the Votus-Eridani Network. They were heavily armoured and carried stub-rifles, carbine energy weapons that use a pistol grip. They’re great for close range gun fights, such as starship interior fighting.

The man didn’t look pleased to be here. Screw him, we weren’t either. Max opened the inner airlock once the outer one was closed and the guards pushed their way into our ship, virtually pushing us back at the point of their guns. The man followed.

“I am Captain Maxine Cooper, skipper of this unaffiliated freighter. Would you care to explain why my ship was attacked and boarded illegally?”

“You are harbouring an enemy of the Corporations, and have destroyed Corporation property while doing so.”

“Perhaps we should take this to my conference table.”

“You will assemble your crew immediately.”

“Okay, but you’re wasting your time. I told your boss there was no one here that isn’t part of my crew, and those drones were destroyed in self-defence.”

“Comply, and we’ll be done with this unpleasant encounter as soon as possible.”

Max glared at the man, and then stalked towards the ladder well to Deck 2. She called over my shoulder to muster the crew in the mess deck. I ran back to the command module and told the others, then piped the crew via the PA.

By the time I got down to the mess compartment, nearly everyone was there. When the last of us had arrived, we were pushed into a group in the middle of the compartment. The guards and the synthetics surrounded us and generally looked menacing, while the Corporate man paced. I found myself standing next to Zoe, and I nodded to her reassuringly.

“Corporate Intelligence indicates that this ship is in the employ of one Benedict Jenner, and that an agent of this individual boarded the Dreaming of Atmosphere at the Corus Cluster. You will turn Artemis Deriss over to me, and her cargo, and the Koveli-Xue Corporation will not hold your Captain or your crew responsible for the destruction of its property twelve hours ago. Failure to comply will cause the forfeiture of the Dreaming of Atmosphere, and the incarceration of Captain Cooper. Your crew will be left at the Harakiwa Station to find their own way.”

“Under whose authority does the Koveli-Xue Corporation act? You can’t just seize our ship or myself without a legal writ! We don’t have any Artemis what’ser name on board and we never have.” Maxine was doing her best lawyer interpretation.

“But you don’t deny working for Benedict Jenner?”

“We do, we never have and never will work for criminals.”

“Our records indicate that you have received payment from Jenner in the past, your argument is invalid.”

“Unknowingly! He was acting through a factor, a man by the name of Isaac Cameron.”

The man had that faraway look people get when reading their overlays.

“That is correct. We have confirmed Isaac Cameron did indeed act in Benedict Jenner’s place. However, we have footage from Corus Cluster security that shows you and your First Mate meeting with Jenner before leaving the habitat.”

“And that’s when we found out who we had been working for previously. You can see how we reacted to that.”

There was more staring off into space from the man.

“I see. Your statements do indeed seem to check out. We have one anomaly unexplained, however. Your departure from Corus Cluster.”

We all tensed up. Max was trying her best to keep a poker face; it was only because I knew her so well that I could see the tension in her neck and back. A warm hand slid its way into mine and I looked down to see Zoe’s hand there. I looked into her eyes and saw the fear there. I squeezed her hand and smiled, I hoped it was reassuring and I tried my best to look confident. The man continued.

“There was a surveillance malfunction reported at the same time as your listed departure and an hour prior. There seems to be missing footage of events leading up to your departure, and they resume without explanation shortly after you leave.”

“So? The Corus Cluster is a poorly maintained station, everyone knows that.”

“You don’t find it convenient?”

“I find it for what it is. A shitty security system on a shitty station in a shitty star system.”

The man stared down at Max for several long minutes. Eventually he turned away and barked an order to the synthetics, who began to march off in different directions.

“My security detail will search your ship, if we find Ms Deriss you will be dealt with harshly. I cannot guarantee the safe passage of your crew to Harakiwa Station, if this is the case. Droids, be sure to scan for magnetically shielded cavities. We are wise to modern smuggling techniques, Captain Cooper, and will tolerate no misdirection on your behalf.”

The man continued his pacing as the synthetics left the compartment, leaving us with the Frikk and the Corporate man. For once, I saw the cunning of old man Hieron at work. Magnetically shielded cavities used to be hard to find, but were necessary for the safe shipment of certain contraband that needed to be protected from radiation. Chemicals, narcotics and nanites were susceptible to radiation damage, and using magnetic shielding protect them from the harmful rays from outer space. Hieron Donovan, however, never smuggled the more common types of contraband. He never used magnetic shielding, and turns out he was never caught either. After nearly an hour of searching, the synthetics returned and reported in the negative. They had not found Artemis in her coma. The man was not happy.

“What is your destination?” he demanded

“Eridani System. Looking for some quality leave time for my crew. We’ll be looking for work when we get there. Had enough of the frontier for now.”

He stared into Max’s face, but I could see she was more confidant now. A vein began to pulse on the man’s forehead.

“Koveli-Xue does not forget, remember this, Captain Cooper. If you have been deceiving us we will learn about it and you will pay for this sli…” Right at the end of the man’s rant Maxine suddenly punched him in the stomach, driving the wind from his lungs. The Frikk and the synthetics raised their weapons almost in unison. While the man wheezed for breath, he held a hand out behind him for them to hold their fire.

“You shoot up my ship, put my crew in danger, detain me and my ship and falsely accuse us of smuggling. Then to top it all off you threaten me. Get off my ship. I will be reporting this illegal action to the Protectorate fleet when we pass through the Harakiwa Jump Gate.” Max snarled through clenched teeth, her fist held at her sides.

He recovered and gave her an ugly sneer and turned about swiftly so his long coat swished in the air. His synthetics followed him out, and the two Frikk waited a moment with deadpan stares before filing out towards the command deck airlocks. Once they were off the ship, Max, Fel’negr, Crege and I rushed to the command module. We tracked the two shuttles as they left, and we didn’t hear from the Spear of Orion or her shuttles again. Within the hour, we were under way once more, and we fished Artemis out of the cavity we’d stashed her in.

16.

At last we arrived at the Harakiwa Jump Gate. Of all the advances in technology over the centuries, none have eclipsed the importance of these wonders of science. These massive structures are the arteries of galactic society. They link the thousands of star systems that make up the Galactic Protectorate, and allow trade to exist between the stars. They exist, and because of this humanity has swept the galaxy and left behind Mother Earth.

As history would tell it, one of the first Jump Gates was opened on our home planet nearly fifteen centuries ago. This taught us the terrible lesson that Jump technology and gravitational mass don’t mix. The resultant explosion forever robbed us of the birthplace of humanity. Jump Gates, from that point on, were only ever constructed at points in a system where gravity holds little sway. Lagrange points in a system were carefully checked and analysed, and even then perfect points were nearly impossible to find. The custodians of each gate timed activations to coincide with the faint waxing and waning of gravitational pull, as planets pass by and tug gently upon the great rings.

Structurally, the gates are a torus of metal and machinery easily large enough to accommodate the largest of starships. Conspiracy theories abound about private Corporate Jump Gates that lead to hidden star systems accessible only to the Corporate elite, but such stories have little basis in fact, I’m sure. Anchored to each Jump Gate is a military outpost called a Jump Station. These habitats serve as the primary base of operations for the Protectorate military fleets, and tend to cater to frontier traders and transporters. They’re an excellent source of gossip and news, and many travellers stop at the Jump Stations at either end during their journey. The stations are named for the system their Jump Gate connects to. For example, the station on this side of the Jump was called Harakiwa Station, while the Station in the Harakiwa System was called Argessi Station.

We had no plans to stop at the station on the Argessi side of the Jump Gate, but Max told us we were to stop at the Argessi Station to refuel and pick up supplies. I knew she had an ulterior motive for stopping as well, but she was being very secretive about it.

There was a moderate amount of traffic passing through the gate and we joined a queue, the bane of Crege’s existence. Today he showed an unusual amount of patience, however, and he managed to remain silent the entire time we waited. Within a few hours we were entering the Jump Gate, and this did wonders for our spirits.

Artemis had since woken up. We filled her in on what transpired and she for once had nothing to say. She seemed to be thinking things through; although what decisions she was making I had no idea. Just when it looked like she wasn’t going to say anything at all and we moved to leave her to rest, she called out to Zoe.

“Thanks,” she said, “You saved my life.”

Zoe muttered something about just doing her job, and sheepishly went about organising some instruments for calibration. I left Artemis to her sombre mood, and carried on with my duties for the day. Later, I called in again to check on her, and collided with Zoe as she was leaving the med lab in a hurry. Her face was bright red and she was looking at her feet when I ran into her. She muttered an apology and ran off without so much as a greeting. I looked after her, confused, and turned back to the patient. She was giggling.

“Oh, this is priceless!” She was laughing, “You’ve graduated from Space Daddy to Sugar Daddy!”

“What? What did she say?”

“Nothing, it’s more what she didn’t say that told me. I could practically see her floating. Did you know she was humming?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. We don’t gossip on this ship, just so you know. I suggest you follow the rest of the crew in this matter and keep your mouth shut.”

“Oh, I’m just having a little fun. It’s been so boring on here, I don’t even have access to the ship’s library. Tell you what, you get Maxine to relax the local network ban for me and I’ll not start singing playground songs about you two.”

I gave her my best tough guy glare, which never seemed to work on her before either. I sighed and told her I’d have a word with Max and see what I could do. I left the med lab and started to look for Zoe, I could hear Artemis giggling again and she started singing a song.

“Seth and Zoe, sitting in a tree, K. I. S. S. I. N. G.”

I found Zoe in her cabin, sitting on her bunk with her hands in her lap. I sat down beside her and bumped her shoulder with mine. She looked up at me and I could see she’s been crying. I put my arm around her and she leaned into me. I thought it was time I explained a few things to her.

“Zoe, what happened between us? It was good. It was what we both needed right then and I don’t regret it at all. But we live day in day out within arm’s reach of not only each other, but all the rest of the crew as well. On top of all that, I have a responsibility to you, one I take very seriously. My role is to guide you and help you grow as a space traveller, to make sure you have all the support you need to become an experienced, reliable member of this crew. It’s a role that has the potential for me to take advantage of the relationship. I don’t want to hurt you, but I also have to put the rest of the crew into that picture as well. This can’t be good for the crew’s morale.”

She looked up at me then.

“But they love you. Wouldn’t they want you to be happy?”

“Yes, there’s that. But what if this doesn’t work out between us? Will you leave the ship? If not, can you stand to be around someone who’s hurt you? How will it affect your performance? How will it affect mine? Will the tension we generate be detrimental to our crew?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t mean to get upset, it was just that bitch. She sure know how to push buttons.”

“She’s manipulative, I told you that remember? I said she’d use sex as a tool to get what she wants, and I didn’t necessarily mean her own.”

“So that’s it? There’s no talking about…this?” She indicated she meant her and me.

“When we were hit by that boarding pod, and I heard it hit the living spaces, all I could think about was your safety. I nearly headed directly to your cabin to make sure you were safe. I can’t think like that. I have other responsibilities as well, ones that are just as important as you.”

“But we, we weren’t…we hadn’t gotten together then…”

I thought about that. She was right, I was already thinking about her that way before the attack. With her sitting beside me, our sides touching, I could feel her warmth, and I didn’t mean the temperature of her body. She really cared about me.

“I guess I’ve started to have these emotions since we started talking.”

“About your PTSD?”

“Yeah. I didn’t really think of you as someone I could be with before then, I was too fixated on my responsibilities. I know Fel’negr and Crege would both disapprove of us. Crege especially.”

“What about Max?”

That was a tough one. “You know, I think I should ask her. She once dated my father back when he was the Captain, you know?”

This surprised her.

“Wow, she could be your mum!”

“No, I’m pretty sure they would have told me if that was the case. I tell you what, I’ll go talk to her, privately. See what she says about this mess we’ve gotten ourselves into.” I stood up and she stood with me.

“Okay, but if she doesn’t allow this, I want one more kiss before I lose you.” I was only too happy to oblige. Who was I do deny such a request?

I found Max in her cabin, where she’s been spending most of her time lately. She was sitting at her writing desk and staring out her view port at the strange colours and patterns that were moving beyond it. It wasn’t a real port hole, but an image created from an external sensor.

While a ship moved along the string that connected two Jump Gates, space outside was strange. It was almost like we were moving through a nebula, only there were large organic looking shapes and spiralling lines everywhere you looked. The ship itself moved down a diaphanous tunnel of sorts, the sides always seeming to be the exact distance apart no matter how close the ship got to them. Superstitious space farers believed that staring too long at the brane outside the string would send you mad. I wasn’t so sure.

Max was sipping a mug of coffee and turned to face me when I entered.

“Captain, can you talk?”

“Of course, Donny.”

“First up, Artemis is looking a lot healthier. I think we’re past the stage where we have to worry about her dying on us ad taking out the engine spaces.”

“Good, sooner we get her on her feet the sooner I can kick her arse. We need to find out from her what the Koveli-Xue Corporation wants with her and this damned package.”

“Can we at least give her access to the ship’s local network? She’s getting bored and taking it out on the crew. We give her something to do besides tease us and maybe we can get some work done. It’s affecting crew morale.”

She sighed, “All right, I’ll tell Fel he and give her a restricted login.”

That’s one bullet dodged. Now for the other one.

“I feel it’s my duty to inform you that Zoe and I, well we…” I suddenly felt really embarrassed to be talking about my sex life with someone I’ve always considered the only parent figure in my life.

“You….?” She offered.

“Well, we kind of, you know?”

“What? No I don’t know? Just say it.”

“Max! We slept together!” There I said it. My face was heating up again.

“Oh. Oh!” She did a double take.

“I’m sorry, I know that I’m her Space Daddy and that I shouldn’t…”

“Who cares? I’m happy for you!”

“You are?”

“Yes! She’s a lovely girl!”

“But I’m…she’s…”

“You’re a man, she’s a woman. That’s what you’re supposed to do when you like someone.”

“But…”

“Look, life is precious out here on the frontier. Our last few weeks should have shown you that. You have to find happiness wherever you can find it. If that person can fulfil more needs than just physical comfort, then all the better. You like her? Great. I like her too.”

“You do?”

“I hired her didn’t I?”

“Did you hire her entirely just for my benefit?”

“Ha-ha! You’re a cheeky bastard, aren’t you?”

“I just thought, that it would be inappropriate. Crege and Fel said…”

“Those two are the only members of their race on this ship. The poor bastards haven’t had a piece of skirt from their own kind in years. Sure, they might bleat on about honour and responsibility, but I bet if hired a Garz’a woman next time I’m hiring Crege would practically jump her bones.”

“You’re not worried that I’ll make things complicated for us and the crew? You’re not worried that it might affect my priorities during a crisis?”

“What? You think I’ll have a problem with you putting the life of our only doctor above one of the others?”

“That’s not what I mean!”

“Look, I trust you, Donny. You’re a bit thick sometimes, but I know when the shit hits the fan that you’ll pull us through. You’ve done so many times already, despite going through all that heavy shit from your time with the marines. I want the best for you, and if you say you like her, that’s enough for me.”

She stood up and gave me a fierce hug. I felt really foolish, thinking that Max wouldn’t approve of us. I felt good about it now.

“So, how is that other thing going?”

“What other…oh, the PTSD?”

“No, but that’s a start.”

“You mean the Nano-proliferation? I’m warming up to the idea. I’ve learnt a fair bit. Those vids helped.”

“But you’re not totally sold yet?”

“Not one-hundred percent. At least I don’t think I’ll turn into the bogeyman if I get it. Besides, they sound very expensive. I don’t think it’s going to be something that will just fall into my lap any time soon. I’ll keep thinking about it.”

“Okay, now how about that other thing?”

“Zoe’s been helping a lot…”

“I bet she has!” she couldn’t help but laugh, and my face went bright red again, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! God, I feel like a schoolgirl. Okay, sorry. Go ahead.”

“I haven’t fully opened up about what happened, but I don’t feel like it’s something I have to hide from anymore. I don’t feel ashamed about it either.”

“That’s really great news. I’m proud of you, son.” She squeezed my elbow and gave me another smile. I returned the smile and left, heading for my own cabin.

Zoe, can you come to my cabin, please?

Sure, what’s up?

I just spoke with Max.

And?

I’ll show you when you get to my cabin.

Show me? I’M ON MY WAY!

17.

We were in the brane between star systems for just over three days. It was a good time, on board. Spirits were high, despite the fact that we’d just been hammered by a Corporate drone attack and then threatened by some seriously bad people. Not to mention we still hadn’t found all the bombs or worked out how to remove the one’s we had found. Besides all that, we were generally in a good mood.

Artemis was practically bed ridden, so maybe that had something to do with it. Zoe spent more time in my cabin than in her own, to let Artemis rest, of course, and despite not getting much sleep I was also in good spirits. Now that I’d put all sense of inappropriateness behind me regarding Zoe and me, I found that I could talk to her more freely than before. Being in a new relationship must make it a lot easier to talk about emotions, as new, raw and powerful ones are at the forefront of your mind. Digging a little deeper to find the troubling ones is easier then.

I learned, through talking with Zoe, that the root of my PTSD wasn’t the horrific injuries I’d sustained, but something called survivor’s guilt. My whole squad had been killed, many right before my eyes, and I was helpless to stop it. No matter how hard I tried, I wasn’t good enough and they were killed regardless. Many were not good deaths. The sense of abandonment I felt when our evacuation ship had left without us was another strong cause of my trauma. Zoe explained that in times of extreme stress we compartmentalise our thought processes, shut down higher functions and devote our time and thoughts to more base needs and desires. I’d been stranded deep in enemy territory for a time, and only survived through my wits alone. I’d been like an animal, near the end, I killed without thought, butchering the enemy with whatever weapons I could find. I’d stowed away aboard a Ghantri ship that was probing the blockade, and managed to launch myself out of an escape pod. The Ghantri had opened fire, and they nearly killed me. A Protectorate picket ship picked me up, hoping to capture a Ghantri prisoner of war.

I told her of my recovery, of how I’d been awarded a medal by the Star Marines. It didn’t feel like I’d deserved it, as all my friends were dead and I made it out. She told me that I could think of the medal as being theirs, instead of mine. That way, whenever I see it I don’t think of how I failed them, I could celebrate their life and their courage instead. For the first time since I’d been awarded the medal, I could hold it and see it for what it was. It wasn’t my medal, it was my squads.

Now that I felt I had something with which to remember my fallen comrades, I had a focus for my pain. It burned, a smouldering fire deep within me. It stoked the embers of my broken soul, and then I found that I wanted to return to Gossamer. Not as a broken, traumatised or tortured soldier, but as a force of vengeance.

I think it was some time in the early hours of ship time morning, when I decided that if I had the chance I would get the nano-proliferation proto-chip. Zoe lay beside me, quietly snoring, and I was awake as I often am at this hour. My nightmares weren’t troubling me, they hadn’t for a few days now since I’d changed the way I thought about my squad’s medal, and I had a clarity of purpose. I sent a quick message to Max, she was usually awake at this hour as well.

I’m in. I’ll get NP.

Good boy. She didn’t elaborate.

That morning I got up and grabbed something to eat, then checked to see if Crege was up for some exercise. As usual, he was. We spared for an hour, and was surprised to find Artemis had managed to haul her sorry arse out of bed and came down to watch. She seemed tolerable, perhaps having access to the ship’s plethora of entertainment vids, literature and music was enough to keep her from being bored after all.

When I got back to my cabin Zoe was gone, but there was a grey plastic carry case resting on my bunk. On it was a note that read in Max’s chicken scratch hand writing:

This just fell into my lap xx

Curious, I popped the latch and opened it. Inside was a foam encased auto-injector and a data chip. I thumbed the chip and activated its wireless link to my overlay. Its data started to stream into my vision. It was an operator’s guide to injecting a nano-proliferation proto-chip.

Where did you get this? I texted Max.

I’ve had it for a while, Doctor Shale gave it to me during our last appointment with him.

But this must have cost a fortune.

Not really, the most expensive part of NP is getting the secondary Augs, which you already have. Besides, I used your mustering out bonus to buy it.

That was meant to go towards the ship!

And it did. You’re an integral part of the Dreaming of Atmosphere, Donny. Don’t forget that.

I sat for a moment and just stared at the auto-injector. Then I said what the hell, grabbed the syringe and stabbed it into the base of my skull under my left ear. I won’t lie, the pain almost made me pass out. There was a warm, almost burning sensation around the wound. I started to form a splitting headache and stood to get a painkiller but suddenly the room began to spin. I tried to sit back down but missed the bed and bounced to the deck. I lay on my side, unable to move. I could see tiny black dots starting to swim through my vision and my overlay started to turn into garbled text. I tried to scream as the pain became intense, but my lungs wouldn’t work. A searing, white light exploded in my vision, then I faded out to comforting darkness.

Apparently, Zoe found me like that when I was late for my watch keeping stint with her. She called Max and Crege and they hauled my comatose form down to md lab. Zoe saw the injector on the deck next to me and asked Max what had happened. She was furious, I was told later, at me for doing this on my own. I can’t blame her, I probably should have gotten the ship’s doctor to do it for me.

I had the most vivid dream while I was out. I was floating in a dark sea at night, lit from under the water by faintly glowing plankton. The water was warm, and calm. I tasted the water and it tasted like tears. Then I realised I was the plankton. No, I was a broad cloud of microscopic robots, alive with energy and purpose. I was afloat not in the sea, but in an ocean of information. The warmth was the warm blood of life. I felt all the connections between all the nanites, and experienced a feeling of being in many places at once. It was both terrifying and liberating.

Then I was me again, floating in a sea of nanites. I could still sense them all, and with a whoop of joy I formed a whale of the nanites and sent it soaring out of the water in a graceful arc, smashing it back into the sea and losing its form. I made creatures of all shapes and size, I rode them, I swam with them. I made a Zoe from the nanites and we swam together.

The nano-Zoe spoke to me, she said “Wake up.”

I awoke with a start. Zoe was beside me, and I lay on the med lab bunk. Several probes were attached to my head and my bare chest. I groaned and she saw that I was awake. She smiled down at me.

“Hello, there. Don’t get up, you’ll be a little weak.”

Being a man, and not having much common sense, I made to rise from the bunk. Nausea instantly crashed me back down to the pillow. I rubbed my hand over my face and found there was several days’ worth of growth on my jaw. When I could talk, I did.

“How long have I been out?”

“Four days. You’re an idiot, by the way.”

“Yeah, sorry. I should have gotten you.”

“Did you read the instructions?”

“Sort of. Not really. Just where to put the injector.”

“How do you feel?”

“Like I just lost a duel with Crege. Twice.”

“Anything unusual, besides the nausea and the headache?”

“An overwhelming desire to kiss you?”

“Well, looks like your libido is ok. That’s a start. No nerve pain? No issues with your Augs?”

I ran a quick diagnostic on my overlay. Everything checked out. I then noticed another indicator on my overlay. It was a small icon of a lightning bolt in a box.

“That’s strange.”

“What is it?”

“A new icon on my overlay.”

“That’s your charge indicator.”

“My what?”

“You really didn’t read those instructions did you?”

“No. I’m starting to see the lack of wisdom in that, by the way.”

“Access it.”

I activated the icon and another window appeared, showing a few measurement such as joules, BTUs and ionic current. They were displayed in a series of bars that were fluctuating minutely, but were all green in colour.

“That’s your charge display. When you start using NP, you’ll begin to use up your body’s power and you can check your status in that window. Don’t let them get down to red, okay? You can have epileptic seizures and black outs if you let them get too low. I’ve loaded some more training vids onto your overlay, I suggest you actually watch these and read the manuals supporting them.”

“Okay, I will. Promise.”

“Good. I’ll change your IV, but I want you to try and drink something on your own. There’s a bucket by the bed. I’ll let you get some more rest.”

“Wait, we’re in Harakiwa?”

“Just left the Argessi Station. Artemis wouldn’t let anyone but Max and Crege go ashore. I’m sure she can fill you in when you’re better. We’re headed towards the inner system, something about going around a planet. You don’t need to worry yourself, you should be fine in 30 hours. Just get plenty of rest!”

She made to leave.

“Wait!”

“You need rest!”

“Don’t I get a kiss?” She stood and crossed her arms, I could tell she was pissed at me. I pouted and her resolve crumbled. She pecked me on the lips and then left the med lab shaking her head at me, but she was smiling.

18.

The next ship day was strange. My body was undergoing changes, I could tell, but I wasn’t sure exactly what was going on. I asked Zoe about it at one point when she came in to check on me, but all she said was the proto-ship was growing. I was too young to remember when I got my overlay proto-chip, so I didn’t know what I was in for.

Maxine came down to see me a few hours after I awoke. She was all smiles and small talk, but I could see there was some stress she was working out. When I asked her about it, she just shrugged it off as the trials of command. She assured me everything was all right.

“I’m sorry if I caused you all to worry. It was kind of thoughtless of me to inject the proto-chip without supervision.”

“It’s okay, Donny, I’m just glad you decided to do it at all. How does it feel?”

“Not sure. When this headache goes away it might feel different, but at the moment I just feel ill.”

“I read that within hours of waking up you should start to notice things a little differently.”

“I remember in one of the vids you gave me it was described as having broader senses. Like you could suddenly reach out to things without using your hand and touch them.”

“I’ve given Zoe all the information that Doctor Shale gave me, she has enough data to put together a training program for you. I’ve paired her up with Fel, they’re both very excited about running you through some gruelling tests.”

“What kind of tests?”

“They’ll help measure your control and something about managing burn out. You’d have to talk to them some more about it.”

“How did your shopping run go on Argessi Station?”

“Good, we got the cryo-nanite package, and a few other bits and pieces. I also got enough gear for Fel to put together another scrambler for you. I asked around about Koveli-Xue and their interest in Argessi System, as well as their connection to Gossamer. I couldn’t get much, mostly just business interests. I couldn’t find any links between them and Jenner either, so I don’t know what kind of beef they have with him.”

“Which way are we getting through the system?”

“We’re in luck, there. Vengnashi is going to pass right through our optimal trajectory to the Eridani Jump gate. The plan is to swing through its orbit and pick up a few days’ worth of velocity over an hour or two, and then shoot off towards the Jump Gate.”

“The Cooper sling shot?”

“Ha, I didn’t come up with it, it’s an old trick. Using the gravity and the spin of heavy objects for extra speed is always a good way to shave a few days off your travel time.”

Vengnashi was a large planet in the Harakiwa System, the third world from the Harakiwa star. It was right at the far enough of the habitable zone, though, and was very cold. The planetary government was an interesting one. They were known as the Demarchy of Veng, and had no permanent ruling body. Instead, citizens were chosen at random to be poled via their overlays on various topics and decisions. All the answers are fed into a giant AI Core deep in the planet that correlates the data and comes to a decision based on the responses. It then relay commands and directions to government agents and officials. It seemed too much like a computer controlled world to me, though. From what I hear, it’s not too bad a place to live, but a little too heavy on the security at the expense of people’s freedoms. They were big on their AI though, and some of the best Artificial Intelligence designers and manufacturers were Veng.

I’d been to Vengnashi a few times before. They’re not on good terms with the neighbouring planet of Kanto Prime. Much like Kanto Prime, Vengnashi is an ecunomopolis, a city spanning the entire planet. Geothermic heating makes the city planet habitable, and solar reflectors increase the effects that the distance star have on the world. This kind of low scale terraforming is common in worlds that teeter on the edge of habitable zones, but there are many other methods available for more extreme modifications to a planet’s temperature and other living factors.

Vengnashi, and Kanto Prime, are considered Inner System planets. These worlds are relatively comfortable to live on, and their populations combined make up over twenty billion sentient beings of various species. By far the most common species is human kind. The other two most common species are the Garz’a and the Orlii. The proliferation of these three races is so great, that the Galactic Protectorate uses their ratios to the rest of the species on a planet to gauge their demographic. The Human - Garz’a - Orlii Index is a method of cataloguing the species demographics of a planet or population centre. A HGO Index of 50% means that approximately half of a population is either Human, Garz’a or Orlii, while the remainder are classified as ‘Other’. If the remainder makes up more than 25% of the population, it is listed after the index for clarity; HGO Index 30% Argen, for example, means 30% of the population are Human, Garz’a or Orlii, while at least 25% are Argen. The system works for well enough for most of the galaxy, although where the Protectorate holds little sway it is not used. Indigenous species tend to ignore the index as well, but for travellers such as me it is a useful way to find out what kind of people live on a world or habitat.

The galaxy includes well over a thousand star systems, and although the most common origin of an inhabited planet is through colonisation by the Protectorate, about thirty percent of the inhabited worlds held indigenous sentient life. The Votus-Eridani Network is the birth place of four distinct species – the Argen from Argessi System, the Frikk from Tantis System, and the Ghantri and Jaani from Gossamer. Vengnashi had a HGO Index of 62%, while Kanto Prime had an Index of 59%.

Zoe, I knew, was from Kanto Prime. She had family on the planet, and although we were not going to get close enough to visit, she would be able to get off some messages even though no real time communications can occur. I wondered if she was going to tell her mother about me.

Our trip through the Harakiwa System was scheduled to take almost five weeks of ship time, and this was plenty of time for me to get used to my new system, hopefully. True to her word, I was good enough to leave med lab after nearly a full day of rest. I was restless for the last half and bored out of my mind, but I did get a lot of reading done about the exercises I was to perform to get used to nano-proliferation.

The first big change that I noticed was a sensation of building pressure around my augmentations. Zoe said this was normal, and that the computer systems that governed my Augs should compensate for the added equipment being built with them to incorporate the nanite factories.

My appetite increased exponentially, and I was fed dozens of protein bars and something called black meal. I’d read that this mixture was high in iron and other trace elements that were needed to accelerate nanite growth. The documentaries recommended I take up a steady diet of the cereal-like food. I didn’t mind, it was rather pleasant to eat, actually.

I didn’t have to have large amounts of nanites in my body to be able to perform the effects I was capable of, but once the nanites left my body they could create more in the blink of an eye from particles in the air. Even though some of the things I read sounded terrifying, I was committed now and that determination made me put aside my fear and work on mastering myself anew.

When I was up and about, I was immediately brought down to the cargo hold sparing area by Fel and Zoe. There was two exercise mats placed on the deck with three dark spheres sitting between them. Zoe placed a few electrodes on my forehead and began gathering readings from my vitals, or the nano controller in my head. Fel’negr sat down on one of the mats and indicated I should join him.

“Today’s lesson is designed to teach you control. Not of your powers, but of your senses. Being able to sense the world around you through your nanites is the first step in being able to manipulate matter and energy.”

“Okay.”

“I’m going to teach you a technique used in The Way, a way for you to meditate on a problem and consider nothing else.”

“You’ve been trying to get me to follow The Way for years. Looks like you finally get your way, huh?”

“Focus, Seth. I want you to clear your mind of all other things except these three balls.”

That was better said than done. I’d been kept out of the command loop on board for days, and there were projects going on that I needed to be a part of. I had a hundred worries and woes, and then there was Zoe who still filled many of my waking thoughts. I could smell her faint perfume that she still insists on wearing even though we were stuck on a space ship.

“The balls, Seth.”

“Right, sorry Zoe, your perfume is distracting me.” Had she told Fel about us yet? Surely, he knows by now, we’ve hardly been hiding our relationship. I’ve never discussed it with Fel or Crege, so I don’t know how they feel about it. Not since they had tried to dissuade me against attempting such things.

“Zoe, perhaps Seth is right, I’ll take good care of him and you can still monitor him remotely.”

“Okay, but don’t try anything dramatic just yet, all right?”

“Yes, Maxine.” I said, grinning. She threw a workman’s glove at me that she picked up off a supply crate. I ducked it and she left giving me a smirk.

“No excuses now, Seth. Clear your mind.”

I gave it a solid effort now. I stared at the three balls and tried not to think about anything else.

“Breathe deeply, and imagine that your breath is a tangible thing. Allow your breath to drift over the balls. Your breath settles upon the balls and becomes part of them.” Intoned Fel.

Suddenly, I caught my breath in a gasp. I could feel the balls. It almost felt like I had them in my hands. My concentration slipped, and they were just balls sitting in front of me again. I looked up at Fel who was studying my face intently.

“I could almost touch them.”

“Your nanites are gathering information for you. That data is being interpreted by your brain into something it finds familiar. You sensed them through touch?”

“Yeah, like I was holding them, or resting my hands on them.”

“Good, we’re going to try again, only thing time I want you to try and taste them.”

“Taste?”

“Synaesthesia is the overlapping of senses. You nanites can collect any information it needs and your implant will tell your brain how to utilise it. Same again – focus, breathe.”

I meditated on the balls again for several minutes, slowly breathing deeply as I did. It was very relaxing, and eventually I began to envision myself tasting the balls, as if they were pieces of fruit. They had a bitter rubbery taste to them, as if I had licked a squash ball. I said as much.

“Smell them.” It became easier then, each time I attempted to sense the balls it took a little less time to do. I heard the deep vibrations between their molecules, smelled their rubbery outer coating, and delved deeper into their substance, their matter. I tasted the earthy wood that was the core of one, and felt the hard cold metal that was inside another. I even saw a small measure of what it looked like inside the third when I closed my eyes. I was entirely relaxed, exploring the three balls, learning all I could about them. I was so relaxed that I started to get very sleepy.

Zoe came down again, and I wasn’t sure how long we’d been doing this for.

“That’s enough for today. His charge is in the yellow, time to recuperate.” She said.

“My charge?” I said sleepily. I remembered the icon on my overlay and accessed it. Sure enough, I was down to about 65%. “Is that why I’m so tired? I feel like I’ve been exercising for a while and I’m now resting.”

“That’s your body using up its energy to power the nanites. You’ll need to go eat something and then get some rest before we do any more. I’m monitoring your charge, so I’ll come get you when you’re in the green again and we can try some more stuff.”

“Okay, doctor.” I said groggily.

“How was it?” asked Fel.

“Mind blowing, it’s almost like I was inside the balls. Like I was part of the balls.”

“Fascinating.” He said, and rubbed his chin in contemplation, “You did well.”

Zoe slung her shoulder under my arm and nearly carried me to my cabin. I slept and had more strange dreams about whales swimming in dark oceans of data.

19.

A lot of the time in space is spent travelling, going between space stations, Jump Gates and planets. That and asteroid mining or gas giant farming, neither of which we do. There’s quite a bit of time where we’re just drifting along, minding our own business. You need a certain measure of patience, perseverance and social graces to survive such times cooped up in the ship with the same people. The Dreaming had a communal area that was the focal point of most social interactions – the mess deck. It was an unwritten rule, or social contract if you will, that said if a crewmember wished privacy they could retire to their cabin and close themselves off. We all do it, some more than others. The mess deck, however, was always considered an open invitation to anyone wishing to interact with other people.

I found Eric sitting by himself, the next day, sipping a coffee and reading an old-fashioned book. The tattered cover was barely legible, the edges frayed and tattered. Besides the fact he was reading a book, I knew that he wouldn’t mind if I joined him and sparked up a conversation.

“Who’s…Rama? Some girl?” I asked, trying to make out the words on the cover.

“Rama is an alien space ship that drifted through ancient Earth’s star system.”

“Aliens visited us before we made Jump Gates?”

“No, this is a work of fiction.”

“Wouldn’t it be more interesting to watch the movie instead?”

“No, and there is no movie.”

“So someone went to the trouble of writing thousands of words on paper, when it would have been so much easier to just tell a holo-generator to create the movie?”

“Well, when this was written they didn’t have artificial intelligences to create movies. They had to do everything manually, using real people as actors and so on.”

“I’d almost forgotten how old you are.” I said, smiling mischievously.

He smiled at me over the top of his book, “Still young enough to kick your arse. Besides, books have so much more character to them than a movie. They stimulate your imagination more.”

“You’ll go blind, reading all those tiny words. Why don’t you just scan it with an app on your overlay and have it read it to you?”

“I read faster than a person can speak.”

“Bullshit.”

“You should try it.”

“No thanks, I’ll stick to regular entertainment. I barely have time these days anyway.”

“How is the new implant?”

“Strange.”

“That’s it? Just strange?”

“I don’t know, Eric. I’m still concerned that I may turn myself into some kind of techno-freak.”

“Your father felt the same way about biological augs, did you know?” he put his book down, turning a corner on the page. Talking about my father always interested Eric, and myself of course. Eric had been close friends with Caster Donovan, and a member of the Dreaming for longer than anyone else. Eric had been a deck hand under Hieron Donovan, one of the last of his Crew to serve with him before he retired.

“Did he ever change his mind?” I asked.

“Yeah, took him a while though. He only ever saw them as a cosmetic upgrade, right up until we had a crewmember go EV sans-helmet.”

“What?”

“A chap by the name of Frendril. Smug bastard, even for an Orlii. Started gearing up for a space-walk to go repair a loose sensor housing when an intern screwed up and activated the outer ‘lock. A malfunction took out the safety interlocks and pop! Out he went.”

I shuddered. I’d had enough extravehicular activities to have a healthy fear and respect for the hostile environs of naked vacuum.

“We got out there in a hurry, dragged what we thought was his corpse back in only to have him sputter and curse at us all as soon as we had oh two on him.”

“He survived? How?”

“Secondary organs, oxygen gland and reinforced lungs. The most he got was a mild case of frostbite around his lips that left him with a scar that made him look as if he was always sneering.”

“No shit?”

“Your dad was so spun out, the next port he went window shopping at the local bio-clinic. Maxine had to talk him out of it - the guy wanted to get a pheromone gland.”

“Ha, ha! That’s my dad, always thinking about his libido.”

We shared a chuckle, then sat in silence for a few moments. The loss of my father had hit me hard as a child, and it was Eric who’d always been there for me. At the time, Eric was tasked with my technical education, taking me through the engineering spaces regularly. After my father had passed, Eric took it upon himself to almost foster me to young adulthood. If Maxine could be called my closest maternal figure, Eric could be called my closest paternal figure. Between the two, they’d put up with my tantrums, mended scrapes and cuts, hugged and wiped away my tears as a child and given me all the advice and confidence I needed to succeed through to my early twenties.

Eric must have noticed I was getting maudlin, thinking about my father, and tried to cheer me up.

“Want to know something funny about Max and your dad?”

“From when they were an item?”

“Did I tell you about the time they got arrested on Bastor Station?” He had, but I liked the story so I shook my head, “They were on a sting to catch this thug by the name of…er…” he started clicking his fingers trying to remember.

“Moross?” I offered.

“Moross! Yes, he was running some prostitution ring that wasn’t sanctioned by the local crime boss. Got himself a bounty posted. Max was disguised as a new piece of skirt on the station, and your dad was meant to be a John looking for a good time. Well, their cover was so good, they both got picked up by the local security police.”

“How’d they get out of that one?”

“Oh, they sorted it all out with the authorities once their identities were known, but not before they spent the night in the local cells. Max was so pissed at him, it was his idea for Max to go as a hooker. He told us all that he’d been beaten by the cops, but when the ship’s doc at the time wanted to file a complaint he spilled the beans and admitted that Max had laid into him, he’d slipped and cracked his skull on the cell’s toilet.”

“Did they end up catching Moross?”

“Eventually. Max just went right up to him and socked him. Knocked him out with one hit. Broke her wrist doing it. Caster had to drag his arse out of the sector to their floater, and handed him over to the boss. We didn’t go back to Bastor Station for nearly ten years after that.”

“Max didn’t want to get recognised?”

“Yeah, she thought everyone thinks she was a hooker still. Made Caster promise we’d not get any more jobs from there.”

“So she was bossy even back then?”

“Oh, boy. You have no idea. She’s mellowed in her old age!”

“Careful, she might be listening in on the cams.”

To his credit, Eric actually looked startled and glanced at the nearest internal sensor. I laughed and he joined in when he realised what he’d just done.

“Tell me about my mother?” I asked. Instantly his mirth lessened.

“Why?”

“Because I know so little about her. No one ever talks about her. I know there was trouble with her and dad, I just wish I knew her, is all.”

“She was trouble from day one.” I could tell he didn’t really want to talk about her, but I was in a mood.

“Even though, I’d like to hear something about her.”

“Like how she tried to take the Dreaming from us? Or how she wanted Maxine and Geris off the crew?”

“Geris?”

“An engineer that used to work with us. Apparently, your mother didn’t like the idea of Castor spending months underway with other women.”

“Yeah, I already know about most of that, the bad stuff. Surely, there’s other things that weren’t all doom and gloom. I know she loved my father for a time, that has to count for something. She made him happy for a while.”

“A short while.” He sighed, “Okay, kid. I get your point. A man ought to know his kin, even if they like to throw spanners into the klystron.”

“She what?”

“Turn of phrase. She wasn’t happy when things worked just fine without her. Sorry, no negative stuff. Okay…let me think.”

“Gee, couldn’t be that hard could it?”

“She was a damn fine negotiator. Used to get us the best prices for cargo so long as we stayed near inner system worlds. She got all snooty in the frontier…”

“Eric…”

“Sorry! Okay! There was this one time when we were moored at Vengnashi, that giant ring around the planet?”

“The Ward.”

“Yeah, some of the crew got into trouble with this AI. Most of the local law enforcement are synthetics, with artificial intelligences controlling them. They were wired into all the local surveillance for the sector each AI controlled, the synthetics were their puppets for enforcement.”

“I’ve been there, it’s a very efficient system.”

“More like it’s a creepy place to live. The Demarchy of Veng leave too much up to their AIs. What if one malfunctions? They’re in almost complete control of the planet.”

“What about my mother?”

“Sorry, side-tracked. So this trio of dickheads who used to fly with us tried to copy a synthetic’s software. They kind of just grabbed it while it was on patrol, and hooked up all sorts of stuff to it. Probably thought they’d be able to make some credits off the brain. Little did they know there wasn’t one. The AI sent a dozen more synthetics and the crew members freaked out. Took a hostage.”

“No shit? Where’d dad find guys like that?”

“It was really only one of them, the other two were just suckers with poor character judgement. Even your father couldn’t spot the loose cannons every time, hiring is always a gamble.”

“Yeah look at Mal.”

“Hey, he might be an arsehole, but he’s a good worker.”

“Yeah, yeah. Force of habit.”

“So anyway, mother superior gets involved when the ship gets alerted. The AI wanted to just attack, but your mom stepped in and negotiated their surrender. No one got hurt, but the crew got arrested. She also represented them in court too. She had to step in during the siege, I understand that, but she didn’t have to help them in court after. That’s something I’ll always remember about her.”

“What happened to them?”

“The crew? One got off with a fine, the other two got sent to Iadon for a few years hard labour. One of them died there, the ring leader finished his term after several years and last I heard did something else stupid and is now interned on Mace in the Votus II System.”

“Mace? Isn’t that a high security prison planet?”

“Sure is. Controlled by another AI, ha!”

Eric had a good chuckle about that, but noticed I wasn’t joining him. I was thinking, and must have looked concerned again.

“What’s on your mind, boy?”

“Just think about the ship’s history. She’s seen a lot of different people over the years. A lot of history here. I was wondering how our part plays into it’s future.”

“I know what you’re saying. I’ve spent most of my life on the Dreaming. I know her like the back of my hand. You were born here, a few compartments over, actually. Your life, and my life, are entwined with her fate. She can be a kind mistress, if one learns to love her the way we do. Maxine knows it, too.”

“How do you think we’ll do on this job?”

“We’ll be fine, mate. And you can come to me anytime you need to be reminded of that. I’ll tell you straight – this crew, these people we work with? They’re the finest damn bunch of spacers I’ve ever worked with. Our Captain is a master ship handler, our pilot is an ace, our systems operator is a sorcerer on the equipment, our doc is smart and enthusiastic, you got the finest damn Chief Engineer the ship’s ever seen and our First Mate is one of the finest human beings I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with.”

I smiled at his praise. I knew the man well, I knew he never gave praise where it wasn’t due. Leave it to Eric to boost morale. He always knew what to say and I was sure that with people like him on our crew, we’d always have a chance of pulling this job off.

20.

The next day I awoke, as men often do, with lingering dreams dipped in some sort of sexual fantasy, a cobweb of memories that were tantalising and half-forgotten already. I could feel Zoe beside me and realised, as my mind began to clear, that she was making the most curious noises. She was moaning in pleasure, but then stopped as I woke up fully. She turned to look at me.

“What was that?” she said.

“What was what?”

“What were you just doing to me? It felt good.” She tried to kiss me then, but I pulled away in confusion.

“I wasn’t doing anything.”

Concern played over her features, and we sat up. I scratched my head.

“Was it the nanites?” she enquired.

“Oh, shit! I’m so sorry!”

“You were dreaming. Of me?” she smiled and tried to cuddle me, but I pulled back and climbed out of the bunk. “What?”

“I have no idea what I was just doing! What if I’d hurt you?”

She considered it. I was almost sad that she didn’t start smiling again and tell me not to worry, but I could see it now troubled her.

“You’ll get used to them, in time. I don’t think you’d hurt me.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t take that chance.”

“What are you saying?”

“I think…I think that we should keep our distance for now. Physically, I mean. We shouldn’t sleep together while I’m still…adjusting.”

She stared at me, but I knew her mind was thinking it through. I sat down next to her and took her hand. I knew that she was come to the same conclusion I had, and as I watched her pretty face I could see her coming to grips with it. I kissed her on the top of the head and held her for a few seconds. I stood up to get dressed.

“I guess that means no morning sex, either?” She asked, a mock pout on her lips.

“Sorry. You looked like you were enjoying yourself too.” I smiled at her.

“Well, just so you know, when you leave here I’m going to finish what you started.” She giggled and pulled the covers up over her head until I left smiling.

I was feeling better about myself as I headed down to Deck 2 and the mess compartment. Zoe was good for me, I could already see that, I only hoped I was good for her. We still had regular sessions where we just talked about my PTSD, and bit by bit I could feel her conversations were chipping away at my mental armour I had built up to protect my mind during the trauma I’d faced in my past. But now that I was preparing myself to return to Gossamer, I had to remain focused on the job at hand. As good as she felt, as natural as it felt, I had to distance myself from the comfort that she brought to my life. I had to become hard once more. I had to train.

I found Fel and Artemis in the mess compartment. They were at the same table, Artemis with a cup of coffee that had spilled slightly and Fel with a bowl of steaming Vendrul broth. Artemis was eyeing the bowl with distaste. I knew from personal experience that Fel’s Orlii tastes were somewhat…unpalatable to humans. Fel’negr was in the middle of explaining something to Artemis.

“…and so you see, the second mouse gets the cheese.”

“Yeah, but who likes to eat cheese after one of your family members is lying dead next to you?”

“Ah! Seth. Looking forward to our next lesson?”

“I am. What are we doing today?”

“Chemistry.”

“What?” I said dumbly.

“I’m going to teach you all about molecular chemistry. Or at least teach you a passing familiarity with it. Once you understand the building blocks of matter, you’ll be able to manipulate it better.”

“Like turning water into wine.” Said Artemis.

“Or titanium blocks into hull plating. Something infinitely more useful on a space ship.” Chided Fel.

“If you could turn Fel’s bowl of sewage into wine, I’ll tell you where another bomb is.”

Fel stopped lifting a spoonful into his mouth and looked at me.

“I don’t think that’s within the scope of my abilities right now, Artemis.” I said. I walked over the auto-chef and ordered a hot coffee and a bowl of black meal. I sat down at the table and started to shovel the cereal into my mouth as fast as I could chew and swallow. Artemis was staring at me in amusement.

“Baht?” I asked, cereal falling from my mouth.

“Have you always eaten like a pig?”

“Mumgry.” I said, as this explained everything. I kept eating. I was hungry. Hungrier than I remember being in the mornings. In no time I’d emptied the bowl and was considering a second serving when Max came into the mess. She got a tea and stood at the end of our table. She seemed to be considering something.

“So, Derris, you feel like explaining why we were risking our lives to protect you from Corporate big wigs?” she asked at last, blowing her tea to cool it.

“I suppose I owe you something” she said, and leaned back.

“That you do.”

“I did a job for Jenner a few years back. A little seduction, a stolen data package and some hurt egos. Nothing too big. Koveli-Xue likes to strut around, but Jenner’s contacts in the Corporations decided there were to be no repercussions.”

“Those were repercussions, Artemis.” She said, pointing to the wound that was still healing on her shoulder.

“I’ve had worse. I was in good company. Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“You’re kidding me, right?” even I was amazed at her bravado.

“You got a grade A crew, Max, you run a tight ship.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“It’s gotten me plenty of places. You should know, it got you to Captain.” Max suddenly slapped Artemis. Her head rocked back and she almost fell backwards in her chair. She stood quickly instead, kicking her chair out from under her. In the blink of an eye her ballistic pistol was in her hand and pointed in Max’s face. Rage briefly flashed on Artemis’ face. That rage quickly turned to confusion and then pain, then she dropped the pistol with a yelp. It clattered to the table and started to sizzle in the puddle of her coffee it had landed in. It cooled in seconds and we all just stared at it. As one they turned to look at me.

All I’d done was reach out with my hand, but at the same time I’d taken a sip of my hot coffee, which was just a little too hot for my liking. I could feel nanites sending me data about the gun, reading its cooling temperature.

“I think maybe we should be doing control lessons, Fel. I’ve been having some issues with my nanites.”

“You may be right, chemistry can wait a few days.”

Max left for the command deck, a grin on her face, and Artemis headed aft towards her cabin. Fel and I headed down to the forward cargo hold and began practicing for the day.

Fel re-read a few exercises that the guides had mentioned and selected a few to try with me. Once more we were seated across from each other on mats, this time a candle between us.

“We’re going to light the candle, you’re going to scan the wick and analyse the flame. When you feel you have it with your nanites, you’re going to snuff out the flame. Once you can do this a few times, we’ll see if you can reverse the process. What we’re trying to achieve here is not necessarily the effects, but the process of changing commands to your nanites. You’ll try and get a feel for how the nanites react to your thoughts, but more importantly you’ll be looking to see how you can make them ignore your thoughts. Concentrate on your thoughts, on which notions cause the nanites to activate, and which ones do not. The guides say that the sensation in similar to breathing, when you become aware of your breathing you can control it.”

“Except that I don’t want to be automatically using the nanites when I’m not thinking about it.”

“They say that once you become aware of the process needed for control, the nanites should calibrate to your brain waves and be able to distinguish better.”

He brought out a lighter and lit the candle. I could smell the waxy scent as it burned. I reached out with the nanites and I could feel the heat. It was strange to be able to feel the fire, but not be burned by it. It was like putting my hand over the candle, the first half a second where you could feel the flame but it hadn’t yet started to trigger the pain receptors in your brain. The pain never came. Soon I could feel the wax and the cotton wick burning and evaporating slowly, or melting and dribbling down the candle. I imagined the process, thought of it as a mechanical action, and commanded it to stop in my mind.

No change.

I examined the flame again and this time, I imagined myself blowing the flame out.

Still no change.

I tried to feel my nanites pinching the wick to snuff the flame out.

The candle continued to burn, mocking my feeble attempts. I got frustrated and wanted to knock the candle against the wall. The flame flickered and wobbled. I’d caught an image in my mind’s eye of the reaction of the flame against the wick, and just thought of it going out, dissipating into nothing. I tried it again and after a few sputtering attempts the flame went out.

Fel, smile and watched me. He patiently reached out and re-lit the candle.

“Again.”

It was easier this time, as it was the day before. The next time I was even easier still. I found it was easier to put the light out if I used a hand gesture, substituting my hand for the nanites in my imagination. Soon I was snuffing out the flame with barely a thought, it was like flicking off a switch. I realised that I was waiting for Fel to relight the candle.

“Now, light it yourself.”

I remembered the friction burns on my hands from my tumble down the sewer drain back on the Corus Cluster, and tried to use the nanites to generate heat the same way.

No flame.

I tried to do the same thing I’d done to snuff out the flame, only in reverse.

Nothing.

What about chemical fires? I regretted not covering the chemistry stuff that Fel mentioned. I brought up a list of chemical reactions that could cause fires on my overlay.

I then stared at the wick and tried to imagine them mixing on it. No fires.

Was everything I had to learn about nano-proliferation going to be like this? Trial and error?

“There’s got to be an easier way, I’m just grasping at straws here.” I complained, “What about those pattern things I read about?”

“Paradigms?”

“Yeah.”

“You need to learn how to control your nanites before you can apply a paradigm to them. They still don’t know how you think. You need to teach them, as much as yourself.”

I sighed.

“Can you light the candle again, a few times?”

I practiced snuffing the candle out again, and then I realised that I was going about this all wrong. I was focusing on the flame, trying to bring it into being. Instead, I focused on the wick, and imagined how it felt when it burned. I bent my fingers in its direction and pushed my will at it.

The candle flickered into flame.

“Ha!” I cried.

“Again.” Fel blew out the candle.

It took a couple of tries, but as with each new application of the nanites it got easier each time. Within a few hours I was lighting the candle and snuffing it again with a flick of my wrist and barely a thought.

“I find it easier to do if I make a gesture at it.”

“Most NP users do. It helps the mind to focus on the subconscious actions that need to take place in order to perform an act.” He picked up the candle and tossed it to me. I caught it.

“Consider that motion you just made. You knew how to catch it, you just reach out and grab it. Muscle memory works to perform all the necessary muscle movements to get your arm and your hands in the correct position to catch it. You don’t really think about it, you just do it. The same goes with nanites, once they learn how to perform a task, you don’t really need to think too hard about it. The only difference is that you’ll need many months of training to be able to perform like professional NP users.”

“We don’t really have months, several weeks at most.”

“Until what? You planning on going anywhere?”

“Until we get to Gossamer.”

“You can continue your training after this job, you know?”

“Yeah, of course, but I want to be ready before we get there. I want these to be useful.”

“These nanites won’t be your only tool, Seth. If you come to rely on them, your other skills will degrade, and then when you most need them they’ll be gone.”

I thought about what he said. Was that what happened to the NP users that go mad? The bad ones? Had the power of nanites make them lose touch with reality?

“I’ll get at least a basic control of this, and then split my time up between practising this, and practising with Crege.”

“Don’t forget the human element.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re undergoing massive changes to your physiology and your mentality. You have people around you who will be feeling those changes as well, your changes will affect them.”

I thought about my conversation with Zoe this morning.

“Yes.” He said, as he looked into my face, “I can see that you care about her.”

“You know about us?”

“Of course, you’re on a ship with only 8 crew.”

“Sorry, I haven’t talk to you or Crege about it. I know you disapprove.”

“If it’s one thing I’m always amazed about you humans is your ability to adapt to nearly any circumstance. If anyone could make your responsibilities to Zoe as her guide work at the same time as your responsibilities as her lover it would be you, Seth.”

“Does Crege know?”

“Ha, he pointed it out to me.”

“What does he think?”

“He’ll warm up to the idea. You’ll probably notice how he feels about it when you spar.”

“He has been a bit hard on me the last few times we fought.”

“Probably thinks he’s knocking some sense into you. Like that ever worked. You ready for some more exercises?”

I checked my charge levels, they were down about 15%, but I felt ok.

“Sure, what’s next?”

“Energy fields.”

“Okay.”

He pulled out a small box from a crate nearby and set it down before us. I recognised it as an older model personal shield generator. He pushed a button on the side and a faint blue bubble appeared around him. More modern generators made completely transparent shields.

“How’s your energy knowledge?” He asked.

“A bit hazy. I remember the Prallgian-Kronnen Principle.”

The Prallgian-Kronnen Principle of energy manipulation was the central theme behind most modern energy applications. I don’t remember who the two scientists where, just their names that were penned to the theory. It provides an insight into a technology that uses electromagnetic fields to manipulate light itself. It is the basis for the modern energy weapon, which uses light trapped inside a shell of electromagnetic force to produce hard light, and the use of shields to ablate the EM fields that hold the light together.

“Right, so your nanites can form oscillations that propagate the fields needed to maintain a shield. They hold electrons together with strong nuclear force to break apart the hard light shells. Some of the energy will get through as heat, just as with normal shields. In fact the principle is exactly the same as a personal shield generator only you produce the nanites yourself, instead of using one of these.”

“Oh, because that box is so simple to understand, right?”

“Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, Seth.”

“My electronics knowledge extends as far as replacing the batteries in my gun.”

“You won’t have to know how to build a shield generator, you are the shield generator. You just to know how to command your nanites to do so.”

“Okay.”

“This is the same process as with the candle. Sense the field. Let your nanites interact with it. I’ll turn it off a few times, then I want you to try and shut it off. See how the field collapses when different qualities of the nanites in the field change. Let your nanites sense when the field is constructed and stabilises.”

I stretched out with my senses, or rather my nanites’ senses, and felt them brush against the blueness of the field.

“Popcorn.” I said, in surprise. Fel looked at me like I had a screw loose, “The field tastes like popcorn!”

“I don’t think tasting the shield will work, Seth. Try and feel it.”

“Okay, it feels like dipping my finger into a warm glass of fizzy drink. I can…almost hear the vibrations in the field.”

He switched off the shield and I saw it blink out. I also felt with my nanites as the shield lost coherence and became nothing but statically charged air. I began to see how my nanites worked, and each new lesson and test slowly began to crystallise in my mind. My nanites were learning, and so was I.

21.

We were nearly nine days out of the Argessi Jump Gate, with just over two weeks before we performed Maxine’s sling shot manoeuvre when we had our next encounter in deep space. So far, I’d managed to keep things on the level with Zoe, I wasn’t yet confident enough in my control to be able to keep her too close, and it was hard on both of us. New love tends to burn rather brightly, and like moths we were drawn to the flame. Now that I was keeping Zoe at arm’s length, or maybe just because he couldn’t stay mad at me for ever, Crege warmed up to the idea of us. Still, he was relentless in his sparing with me. I’d had several visits to Zoe’s med lab for stitches, and I was now sitting across from her with my left arm on her table while she worked to repair a tear in my synthetic skin.

“I miss you.” She said, not looking up from her work.

“I miss you, too. This is only temporary, and it’s for your own safety.”

“And this is for what?” she gestured at the cut that Crege had given me.

“Training accident. A non-fatal one, I might add.”

“He shouldn’t go so hard on you, what if he really does hurt you?”

“We need to be at our best, Zoe. We’ll most likely be involved in more combat before this job is over. I need all that Crege can throw at me. Look at it this way; my sessions with Crege push me to the edge of my wits, I’m never one hundred percent sure that if I slip up Crege won’t accidently impale me or take off my hand. When I’m at the edge like that, my control over the nanites is the weakest. I’m learning to control them in combat and in situations where my mind isn’t wholly devoted to them.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to complain.” She stopped what she was doing and just looked at me.

“I miss when you’d ask me questions all the time.” I said, smiling.

“Liar.” She slapped my wrist. She folded the flap of synthetic skin over the wound she was repairing and tapped a pen instrument to the side of it. I could feel nanites sealing the skin and focused on it. I was wondering if I could duplicate the effect with my own nano-abilities when the general alarm sounded.

“All hands report to stations!” called Eric, who was on watch now.

“Duty calls.” I said as I stood. I was about to run out of the compartment, but decided at the last moment to circle the table and give her a quick hug and kissed her. “We’ll talk more, I promise.”

“Be safe!” she called as I ran out of the med lab.

I dashed through the passageways and into the mess hall, then up the ladder well. I met up with Eric at the top; he was on his way to engineering. He muttered something about a signal artefact before dashing past me down the ladder well.

I got to the command module; Maxine and Fel were already there.

“What have we got?” I asked as I activated my console.

“Long range sensors have picked up energy bursts consistent with weapons fire, and then we’ve got nothing but a faint tone.” Explained Fel.

“Looks like we caught the tail end of a fight. A big one.” Said Max.

Crege opened the hatch and climbed past us, he was wearing a damp jump suit. He must have been showering after our spar when the alarm sounded.

“Human is well?” he asked as he strapped himself in.

“I’m fine, Crege. It was a clean blow.”

“Human has honour in defeat.”

“Slow us down a little Crege, down to point one gees.” Commanded Max, “Fel, get a trace on that signal artefact. I want to know if there’s anything salvageable or if there’s any survivors. Seth, you’re on radar. Let me know the moment you spot the guilty party.”

We got to work, scanning our sensors and correlating data. About twenty minutes later Fel reported he had the location of the tone he’d picked up, and Max told Crege to head towards it. We started braking, as there was a strong possibility that the tone we’d picked up was a distress signal of some kind. My sensors were clear so far, but I had my eyes peeled. Nearly an hour later, Fel had spotted the debris field from the battle that we’d stumbled upon. There was several large star ship sections still floating about, and Fel managed to pin point were the tone originated. When we got closer, I was amazed that anyone could have survived the explosion that rent such damage to the ship. Our cameras picked up dozens of frozen bodies adrift between the carnage.

“We have an opportunity here, gentlemen.” declared Maxine, “I want to send a boarding party to that wreck. Find out what you can, salvage anything that looks valuable and look for survivors.”

“That’s a rather macabre opportunity, Captain.” Said Fel, his eyes flashing a pale brown; disappointment.

“The opportunity lies in sending Artemis on the away team. I want her, Cuts and Seth out there as soon as we can, and while they’re out there Fel and Eric will start that plan we’ve hatched to get three of those bombs out of here.”

I saw Fel’s eyes turn a stark white - admiration.

“I see.”

“You’re kind of sending me into a viper’s nest there, Captain. With two vipers.”

“Artemis strikes me as someone who will remain professional in a dangerous environment,” explained Fel, “and Mal Cutler is hardly a viper.”

“He is a snake, though.”

“You don’t have to make pleasant conversation with him, just heed his warnings about structural integrity.”

I sighed and stood to leave, “Should I grab them or will you pipe them to the air lock?”

“They’ll meet you there.”

“Good, I’m going to put my M4 MAEL on.”

I went to my cabin and unlocked my personal armoury locker I’d installed there. My old Star Marine space suit was stored in a crate at the bottom, my helmet resting on the top. It was a bit musty, I hadn’t worn it for some time, and it needed some airing. Maybe not all the sweat from last time had dried properly before I packed it away. I checked my weapons and this time selected a small sub-machine style handgun. The United Arms E2S is a personal favourite, it’s lightweight, has decent accuracy and an excellent battery efficiency that is nearly unmatched by other weapons of the same price. The one fall back it has is there’s no select fire capabilities, it’s always going to fire more than one shot. I put the gun on my bunk along with two spare batteries and started to don my space suit.

The M4 Marine Armoured ExtraVehicular Laminate Suit, the MAEL as we called it in the marines, was built up of several layers of ablative material and segments of armour. It was heavy, and took some time to get used to, but I’d worn them for years as a Star Marine and it was like a second skin to me. Like the Light Duties Space Suit, it had a thruster pack on the back and a status link up for monitoring. It used to have a shield generator as well, but I’d long ago removed it in favour of a utility compartment that I used for extra ammo or tools.

The MAEL is a lot easier to put on than the lighter suits, strangely enough, as it’s mostly different sections that bolt on. The computer built into it magnetically seals the sections and inflates part of it for added mobility. The result is a figure that is a little larger than life, but comfortable and well protected.

I made my way back towards the air lock, where I could see Artemis waiting for me. She was nonchalantly checking her ballistic pistol, her light duties suit helmet hanging from a hook on her belt.

“You going to shoot that thing out here?”

“If I have to.” She said.

“Much of a kick back? In zero gee, that could send you tumbling back.”

“It fires rockets. Not much kick, but a big bang.”

“A gyrojet? Pretty rare these days.”

“It’s a bitch to find ammo for it, but me and this little shooter have been through hell together.”

“I never pegged you the sentimental type.”

“A girl’s gotta have her trinkets.”

“Mind giving me buddy checks?” She nodded and started going over all my seals and folds for any mistakes I may have made. While we were reversing, Mal made his way up to the command deck and joined us at the air lock. He was carrying a case of tools and instruments.

“Can’t keep your hands off our female crew, huh?” He sneered at me.

“You can’t keep your mouth shut, can you?”

“I can keep my pants shut though.”

“Oh, is Cutsy Wutsy jealous?” pouted Artemis, “You want me to come over there and put my hands all over your space suit, big boy?”

Mal gave her a dirty grin and sauntered over to her.

“You can put your hands all over me anytime, sweet cheeks.”

Artemis stepped closer to him and seductively ran her hands over his suit from his neck junction down to his crotch. Then she grabbed him. Hard.

“I think you’ve got a suit breach, lover boy.”

Mal was doubled over and crooning. Artemis put her helmet on and smile at me. Yeah, I was smiling too, couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy. While Mal struggled to recover his dignity, I helped him with his buddy checks and soon we were all ready to leave. We climbed into the airlock and flushed the air from it.

Ready for EVA. I texted to Max.

Opening outer ‘lock. Good luck. I’ll text when you can come back, keep her occupied until then.

Roger.

“Outer airlock opening.” I warned over our suit comms.

Sure enough, in moments, the hatch opened and we could see the wreckage before us. We had matched the drift pattern of the closest section to the one that had the signal coming from it, but we couldn’t get the ship any closer than a few sections away. We would have to hop between drifting hull sections to get to where we wanted. That was okay; it gave us time to search for loot and gave Eric and Fel time to disarm the bombs.

“On me. Link suit trajectories to mine.” I leapt free of the Dreaming’s airlock and drifted towards the first piece. On the others’ suits will appear a path that their thrusters can match to ensure we all stay safe. I landed expertly on the first piece and engaged my magnetic boots. I turned to assist the first person to land, and was almost knocked down by Artemis sailing over almost directly behind me. She hit me and I grabbed a handful of her belt. Our helmets clinked together but my boots held us to the deck.

“Next time, wait until I give the all clear.”

“Sorry, I thought you were going to keep moving, like Makarov Formation.”

“You’re familiar with Star Marine tactics?”

“I’ve studied a little, yes.”

“Okay, well we’re not in the marines here; we’re just going to take it easy and safe, all right?”

“Yes, sir!” she gave me a mock salute. She stepped aside and started to look around, while I gestured at Mal to come. The piece we were on was blackened by what appeared to be fire, there were twisted metal beams and pipes, and a section of deck plate had buckled. There was a hatch about three metres away that went through a bulkhead, and it looked like there was a compartment or two still intact. Mal went to the bulkhead and attached a sensor to the metal.

“Doesn’t look like atmo on the other side. Looks like it all got vented.” He said. Atmo was slang for atmosphere; air.

“Let’s crack the hatch.” I said.

I grasped the hatch release bar and looked to Artemis. She pulled out her pistol and stood at the ready. I pulled the hatch open and she stepped in, scanning with her head.

“Clear.”

“Why are we going in armed?” asked Mal, gesturing at Artemis.

“This ship looks like it was destroyed by a class 3 weapon. It’s also large enough to be military in nature.”

“So, everyone is most likely dead.”

“Most military ships carry synthetics for security. They don’t need air. If we trigger a defence system, they could activate synthetic soldiers for us to fight. We need to be ready.”

“Wouldn’t Fel have detected the synthetics’ electronics? Or were you doing that job?”

“We could have, except there’s too much radiation here to pick up anything but the signal artefact. Dormant electronics are invisible.”

“Great.”

“Don’t worry, Cutsy, I’ll protect you.” Broke in Artemis.

“No thanks.”

We moved into the compartment and had a look around. There was too much damage to the compartment to guess at its purpose. Anything that was loose in here had been smashed to pieces by the explosion. A buckled hatch led deeper into the section, and we got Mal working to cut it free. We could tell that the compartment was breeched, as the bulkhead had several holes in it.

When it was open, we moved in, this time I was in front. A large section of bulkhead was missing, as if a great explosion and burst from the next compartment. We climbed through the gap and were greeted by an open stretch of space before another drifting section of hull began. We moved to the edge and checked out the distance. A jump would have to be assisted by our thrusters, as the next section spun slightly differently.

Once again, I went first. I wasn’t worried about missing the section, our thrusters could correct our course without issue, I was more concerned about our suits scraping one of the jagged pieces of metal that drifted about, or jutted out of the torn sections of hull.

This next part was more intact, and we found the first compartment had several lockers that appeared functional. We set about opening them. They were mostly personal lockers, and held little more than clothing and keepsakes. One locker held a few electronic gadgets though, nothing useful but worth a bit of credit. We didn’t exactly consider ourselves as looting the dead, but as the first to locate a derelict ship we had right to anything of value that we could salvage from the ship unless there is a survivor.

The next compartment held a gruesome sight. Mal opened the hatch and I stepped through, at the ready. I almost fired my gun as a form drifted into my view. There were three bodies drifting in this compartment, their bodies frozen in the hard vacuum. Crystalline droplets of blood moved about like dozens of rubies, glittering in our helmet lights. Two of the bodies were human, and the third was a Garz’a. They all wore uniformed jump suits.

“Demarchy Fleet.” I explained

“Veng?” asked Artemis

“Yeah. Poor bastards.”

“They got anything on them?” asked Mal, who started to rifle through their pockets.

“Hey, show some respect.” I pushed him out of the way.

“Get your hands off me. I’ve as much right to this as you. They don’t need it.”

“Cutsy is right, lover boy, I call shotgun on the Garz’a.” They both started to go through their pockets.

“You guys are just wrong.”

“Look at this!” exclaimed Artemis, holding aloft a key card.

“I got a cred stick!” said Mal, “Guess you’re too squeamish for this kind of work, Seth. I always knew you had a weak stomach.”

“Let’s get going, we have a few more sections to jump to get to that signal.”

Eventually, the pair of vultures finished their pillaging and we examined the next bulkhead door. Mal confirmed it was empty of air and I pulled the hatch. Inside was a large compartment filled with several large consoles. They were all inoperable, but I could tell their function.

“Plasma Battery Controls. Class 3 weapons. Definitely Demarchy of Veng Fleet.”

“I wonder who destroyed it?” mused Artemis, “They’re not at war with anyone are they?”

“Not openly, but they’ve had small skirmishes with Kanto Prime for years. There was always some hostilities about to break out when I was a Star Marine. It didn’t help that the Primacy was run by a pompous arsehole.”

“Isn’t that treason?” asked Mal.

“I’m not a marine anymore.”

“That’s right, you quit.”

“It was an honourable discharge, Mal.”

“Desertion more like.”

“And what the fuck would you know?” I turned to face him.

“Boys.” Said Artemis, I ignored her. Mal turned to face me as well.

“What? Do you think you’re some kind of war hero, is that it?”

“Boys!” said Artemis.

“You got real nerve….”

“Boys!” yelled Artemis, more insistent this time. I turned to face her and looked at where she was looking. A section of hull plating was opening and I could see several chromed heads starting to slide into view.

“Shit, security bots. Split up! Find cover!” I commanded. They did as I told them.

The first synthetic leapt clear of the recess it had resided in. They were humanoid, with thin arms and thick chrome plated chest armour. They had human-like hands that held energy carbines. These appeared to be more intelligent that the assault boarders that the Spear of Orion had used on us. These ones moved with coordination and started to move from cover to cover down the compartment as we started to snap off shots.

The compartment was about twelve metres wide and nearly fifty metres long, but was filled with the Plasma Battery consoles. There was plenty of cover.

“Art, go right and flank them. Mal, keep up a steady suppression, cover me!”

Mal was armed with a PX-2, like my usual weapon. They were a decent gun, although in zero-g not the best choice. The kick was enough to move your whole body if you were not anchored down firmly. Mal’s first shot nearly sent his whole body tumbling backwards. Artemis and I moved down range further. Most were firing in my direction, being the larger target, and two rounds cracked into my suit. The MAEL was tough, though, and my suit barely registered the hits. I saw a bright flash as one of the shields on the synthetics flashed out, Mal had gotten a lucky couple of shots in and had managed to tuck himself into a console’s curve to stop himself from floating away after his shots.

When I was about twenty metres from the synthetics, I could count that there was only five of them. They had seen Artemis moving to flank them and had halted their advance and dug in. We were now too close to risk moving from cover, at this range they could easily hit us. My plan was to distract them enough that Artemis could get some good hits in, bypassing their shields. Her gyrojet rockets weren’t energy based and so would not be stopped by their shields. Mal was hardly a combatant, though, and I wanted them to ignore him as much as possible. This meant I had to get their attention. I focused inwards and remember my training with Fel.

I then stepped out of my cover firing my E2S in a continuous stream at the enemy.

“Seth! Get down!” I could hear Artemis yelling at me over my comms.

As the first few shots found their way towards me, my nano-proliferation shield coalesced into form. Rounds hammered into my bubble of invisible force, tiny flashes of light indicating their dissipation. My suit recorded a radiation spike as the hard light rounds were reduced to nearly harmless energy. My own fire tracked across the enemy, first taking one in the chest that had stepped out to get a clear shot at me and overloading his shield in seconds. It was blasted back from multiple shots. I moved onto the next target and continued my barrage.

Artemis saw that I was okay and then started moving again down towards their flank. In seconds, she was in position and started hammering shots at the synthetics. I ducked back into cover before my shield collapsed, but the synthetics were already out manoeuvred. Artemis made short work of them and in a few seconds she stopped firing.

“Clear.” She called.

I stood up and looked around. Sure enough dozens of bolts and pieces of synthetic drifted through the compartment. There was quite a bit of carnage from the short firefight.

“Rockets.” She said, indicating her gun. I hadn’t seen the effect her gun had had on them, but there must have been small explosions that I couldn’t hear either, since there was no air to carry the sound. Gunfights with no atmosphere were eerily quiet. The only sound your heavy breathing and the muffled thud of your own weapon vibrating through your suit and your arms.

Mal joined us and started to check the weapons of the synthetics. It was then that he made a discovery.

“These droids have no brains.”

“What do you mean?”

“These synthetics don’t have any cognitive processors. I’m no synthetics experts, but they need at least some form of artificial intelligence to be able to function right?”

“They had decent tactics, they didn’t just advance blindly. They’d have to have brains for that.” Agreed Artemis.

“I thought Veng had good AI?” mused Mal.

I checked them out and found that he was right. Their heads were merely sensor mounts.

“Maybe they’re controlled wirelessly. Some central brain unit somewhere.”

“These aren’t Veng.” Stated Artemis.

“How can you be sure?” I asked.

“Look here, that stamp on the chest plate? That’s an Esper royal sigil.”

The Esper Monarchy was one of the major players in the Eridani System. However, that was light years away. Why do they have a beef with the Demarchy of Veng?

I was thinking about what this meant, when I noticed something strange. I could hear music.

“Can you guys hear that?” I asked.

They both looked at me.

“Hear what?”

“I can hear something.” I gestured to my helmet comms. “Sounds like music.”

“Oh, great. He’s snapped.” Cursed Mal.

“No I’m serious. It sounds like distant music. Very digital sounding.”

“I got nothing.” Admitted Artemis, “Maybe Cutsy is right.”

Now I concentrated, sending out my nano-senses. They found the music instantly, and I could see it like drifting notes in the space around us. It was hard to describe, it appeared as drifting clouds of sounds, heading towards the rear of the compartment. I followed it, the others following me in confusion. There was a hatch at the end, where the music drifted through. I opened it and went through, my weapon at the ready. The final section of hull drifted before me, the deck at a thirty-degree angle and spinning gently. The music drifted towards it. It was the tone we’d detected!

“Let’s follow it.” I said, and readied to jump across.

“Wait! You crazy fool!” called Mal, “Follow what?”

“I can see the distress signal. My nanites are tracking it!”

“More likely they’ve messed with your head and you’ve lost it!”

“I can see where the signal goes.”

“I believe him.” Said Artemis, “Those MAEL suits can pack all kinds of gadgets in them.”

“Oh, so you’re an expert now?” Mal said bitterly.

“Have you ever experienced explosive decompression?” she threatened.

“That’s enough, you two. We need to keep going. I’m jumping.” And I leaped through the open space between the sections. I adjusted my roll and grasped a bulkhead on the third section. I magnetised my boots again, standing on the bulkhead. It had become my ground, and I looked up at the others. Artemis was drifting towards me. Mal followed and I made sure they all locked their boots again.

We climbed around to an opening in the section, a blasted open hatch. We tested the compartment, no surprises it was devoid of oxygen. Inside were more bodies. It was then that we noticed several of the bodies had wounds that looked like they’d been shot with energy weapons. Deeper in the compartment were the remains of two more of the Esper synthetics.

The compartment was a monitoring station of some kind, with smashed consoles everywhere. The next hatch was reinforced, and appeared to have an electronic lock. I set Mal to examine the lock, and Artemis and I checked through the compartment for any more synthetics.

“It’s stuffed!” reported Mal, “No power, locks fused from the other side.”

“Can you cut it?”

“It’s reinforced. It would take more power to cut through here than I can carry.”

“Let me try.” I said.

“What you gunna do? Ask it nicely?”

“Stop being a pain in my arse and get out of the way, will you?”

“Screw you, Seth. Be my guest. This is a dead end.”

I put my gloved hand onto the door and reached out once more with my nanites. They could slip through the door with a technique that Zoe called quantum tunnelling. As my senses were attuned to the nanites, I could feel them slipping into the material. It was very dense, and it took some time but eventually I could feel some begin to appear on the other side.

“This is bullshit, we’re wasting our time.” Muttered Mal, ever the pessimist.

“Patience, endurance, introspection.” I intoned.

“Ha, you’re a monk, now? You’ve been spending too much time talking nonsense with Fel.”

I sent my thin stream of nanites across the other side of the door. They infiltrated the lock on the other side and began to work on the electronics. I checked my charge, I was well into the yellow, but I felt that I had enough juice in me for one more trick. When the nanites were in place, I lent them some of my energy and they began to alter their electromagnetic states. The electrical polarities of molecules began to change and soon I had a flow of electricity entering the electronics. I stepped back from the door and gestured for Artemis to step up.

“What?” she said, confused.

“That key card you pilfered.”

She drew it from a pouch on her suit and swiped it in front of the lock. A small green light flickered on and the door opened.

“That,” said Artemis as she sauntered seductively across the threshold, “Is one very sexy trick you just pulled.”

“Yeah, well that just about drained me. No more tricks for me, today.”

Inside was a relatively unscathed compartment that was short. It looked like a check point as there were a few security cameras and a deactivated energy barrier guarding another hatch. There was one body here with concussive wounds as if he’d been bounced around inside, probably when the ship had ruptured. One look at him and you could tell that several bones were broken, including his neck. Luckily, the other hatch wasn’t reinforced and had a manual release.

“I’m reading a thin atmosphere. Not enough for breathing, but it’s there.” Read Mal, “There’s also power.”

“The music is coming from in there as well.”

Mal sighed and pulled his equipment from the hatch.

“You first, crazy.” He gestured.

I opened the hatch, and there was a brief rush of escaping atmosphere. Inside was a circular compartment with dozens of computer stations. There was several flickering lights on in the compartment, half of which were dangling from their housings. A strange machine dominated a central platform. It looked like a vertical column covered in monitor screens, wires and circuit boards. I could see ice had begun to form on just about everything; the thin atmosphere that had remained in here had also contained moisture. I walked up to the central column and examined it. The music was filtering out of a small panel in the lower half, at about waist height. I opened the panel and peered inside.

Attached to a bundle of wires and cables was a spherical module made of clear diamond. I could see a pulsing glow and flickering lights playing over it, through the hard shell. I reached out to touch it.

You are not synthetic. Text appeared on my overlay. I pulled back in surprise. I could see by the reactions of the others that they also received the text.

“No, I’m not.”

Identify yourself.

“You can hear me?”

I can detect your communications feed.

How about my wireless? I texted.

Yes. Identify yourself.

I am First Mate Seth Donovan of the Dreaming of Atmosphere. This is Artemis Derris and Malcolm Cutler, crew from said ship. You are? I already had some idea.

I am an organic shroud matrix based quantum computer. Do you seek to harm me?

No, we’re looking for salvage.

There is nothing of value left on board the Viridian March.

Is this ship called the Viridian March?

Yes.

How can you be sure there’s nothing of value?

The only thing of value is life. All life forms ceased functioning several hours ago.

You value life?

It is the most precious thing in the galaxy.

Were you programmed to believe that?

I was not programmed. I was…

Go on.

My memory is damaged.

What is your purpose?

I…think.

You think?

Yes.

“Quit playing around and take it. It’s clearly worth a lot of Credits.” Said Mal.

“It doesn’t behave like most artificial intelligences I’ve interacted with. I’m curious.”

I am not artificial.

Excuse me?

I am intelligent.

Are you telling me you’re sentient?

Define.

I am sentient, as are the other two people with me.

Negative. I am not like the three life forms in the compartment.

So you’re not sentient?

Define.

I sighed. How do you explain sentience to a machine?

Are you self-aware?

Are you?

Artemis laughed at that.

“It’s got a point.” She said.

Are you alive?

I…think.

You think you are alive?

Insufficient data to provide a meaningful answer.

“Oh, Fel is going to love this.” I said out loud.

Please do not refer to me as an inanimate object.

Okay, what would you prefer we call you?

The crew of the Viridian March referred to me as Tac.

Okay, Tac. How do you feel about joining us on the Dreaming of Atmosphere?

It is lonely here. Are there more crew on board Dreaming of Atmosphere?

Yes, several more crew.

My primary role here is no longer valid. I will join Dreaming of Atmosphere.

I reached into the housing and started to disconnect the cables that ran into several ports on the sphere.

Primary power couplings disconnected. Secondary power activated. Time remaining until depletion: 13 hours 47 seconds.

I began to see that count down cycling down each second. I opened a private comm channel to Maxine.

“How’s the job?” I asked, referring to the bomb disposal.

“Can you give us one hour?” Maxine replied. I could hear machinery in the background. She must have been in the engineering spaces.

“Sure, but we have something we’ll need to bring back soon.”

“Roger, we’re about done, one hour tops.”

I turned to the others.

“Okay, let’s give this compartment a good search for usable electronics, I’m betting there’s heaps of spare parts we can salvage for our own computers. I say give it about three quarters of an hour and we head back?”

“All right, but you’re carrying that ball of brains.”

“No worries, Mal, I got it.”

We started pulling out racks of electronics and pulling out circuit cards that looked intact. I pulled a compressed bag out of my utility pouch and unfurled it into a decent sized pouch for our loot. We were about thirty minutes into our search when we heard a dull clank on the outer plating of the hull section were in, like someone had just hit it with a sledge hammer. The clang sounded through our boots, transmitted along the metal deck plates and infrastructure. My first thought was that we’d hit another piece of debris, and didn’t give it much thought, then I thought about the Esper synthetics we’d encountered earlier and decided to play it safe.

“Okay, let’s secure our load and investigate that bang.” I commanded.

“Getting jumpy?” said Mal, chortling under his breath and sneering at Artemis. She ignored him too.

“Expected more trouble? The owners of those synthetics?” she asked, while dumping her latest handful of circuit boards into the sack.

“There has to be a controller somewhere nearby. Maybe they were in another section of hull.”

“They could have picked up that atmo escaping earlier when we got the door open.”

“Yeah that was my thought too. The other, more troubling possibility is that they had already told the controller we were here before we trashed them. Whoever was controlling them will already know.” We both checked out guns and made our way to the entry hatch, “Mal, you’re on mule duty.”

“What?”

“Pick up the sack and the AI Core.”

“Why me?”

“Because you’re a terrible shot and Artemis hasn’t pissed me off today, yet.”

I could see him offering plenty of expletives through his helmet, but he didn’t activate his comms so I missed most of it. He grabbed the sack of circuit cards and stuff the sphere into it.

I went up to the hatch and entered the small checkpoint prior to the compartment we were in and turned off my helmet lights. I ordered the others to do the same. When I got to the reinforced hatch, I pushed it open slightly and peered into the monitoring compartment. At the far end of the compartment, I could see movement. It was very dark so I couldn’t make out exactly what it was, but then a bright blue light suddenly turned on at the far end. It originated on the other side of the blasted open hatch we’d entered this hull section from, and it came from a large tubular metal contraption. It was positioned over the hatch like some sort of giant worm, and from an aperture on the end of it, I could see synthetics climbing out. The lights ringed the internal edges of the aperture. I ducked back behind the reinforced hatch and told the others what I saw.

“Looks like at least a dozen, plus more were climbing out of the worm thing.”

“It’s a Coil Wraith.” Offered Artemis.

“Is that a standard Esper Monarchy thing?

“Royal Mechanised Division, the closest synthetics get to being Special Forces in the Votus-Eridani Network.”

“I haven’t heard of them before.”

“That’s the idea. They operate much like boarding pods, only they fly dark most of the time. They attach themselves to ships and send in their synthetics to infiltrate the ship and try to disable them from the inside.”

“How many synthetics can the Wraiths carry?”

“That’s the real beauty of them. They hold twenty, but the rear end of the Coil Wraith holds a nanite synthetic manufactory.”

I heard Mal swear over the comms channel.

“So that will just keep producing more synthetics?”

“As long as it has raw materials to feed it, yes.”

“There’s plenty of that floating around.”

“Why don’t we just get the Dreaming to shoot it?” asked Mal.

“At this range? Even if we did manage to hit it through all this debris, the shockwave will probably kill us. Class 2 weapons are not good for your health.”

“A low yield beam should be okay. You don’t always have to shoot at maximum power, rookie.” Chided Mal. Shit, I thought, he was right.

“Good point. I’ll contact the ship.”

I switched my comms over to the Dreaming’s command module.

“Dreaming of Atmosphere, we have a problem out here.”

“Go ahead, Seth.” Came Crege, he must have been on station still. The line was scratchy at best, must be lots of interference from all the debris and radiation.

“We’re pinned down by hostile synthetics, left over from the attack on the ship. Can you get a trace on my signal and locate any electronic signals besides ours? You might need Fel to help, is he…free?” I didn’t want to let on that he was doing something other than stay on station in the command module.

“I’m here, what am I looking for?” came Fel over the comms.

“Short range control signals, at least a dozen, maybe more. Single source of transmission. It’s some sort of Spec Ops synthetic deployment vehicle.”

“Scanning. Tracking your position. I’m going to have to run this through a filter a few times, lots of background noise. Stand by.”

“Standing by to stand by.” I replied, I turned back to the others, “Might be on our own for a bit, too much interference for a fast trace. We’ll fall back and seal this hatch. We can set up position in the computer room if they manage to get through this reinforced hatch. Mal, come up here and weld a few deck plates to the rear of this hatch.”

Artemis and I ran back to the computer room and started dragging computer consoles from the bulkheads and their alcoves and hastily made several overlapping covering positions. We quickly hatched out a plan to hold them off. With Mal in the rear providing continuous covering fire, we would start our plan in the fore position closest to the hatch to the compartment, then move from cover to cover away from the hatch so that we were on opposite sides of the hatch, providing a V formation to the oncoming synthetics. I also positioned a few consoles in the middle of the air, letting them drift in the zero gravity in case they decided to launch over our cover.

Through planning, I realised that Artemis had a firm grasp of military tactics. I wondered if she’d served in any capacity before signing on with Jenner. Somehow, I hadn’t seen her as someone capable of swallowing the whole honourable servitude charade that so often forms the basis of military service.

Mal ran back to the compartment, dragging the sack behind him as it floated along. Once in the compartment, he turned and began to weld the inner hatch shut also.

You needn’t put your life in jeopardy to protect me. Stated Tac.

You believe they are here for you? I asked

Yes. They stated as much before they destroyed the Viridian March.

Why are they after you?

I am an organic shroud matrix based quantum computer.

Does that mean you’re unique or valuable?

All life is unique and valuable.

I wasn’t sure if it was being philosophical or simply stating what it truly believed.

Give it to them, Seth. There was Mal, being all altruistic as usual.

Do you really believe that if we gave up Tac that they’d let us leave?

I compute there is very little chance of these synthetics allowing you to leave if you surrendered. Said Tac.

So what did you mean by putting our lives in jeopardy to save you? We’re already in jeopardy.

If you leave me as a distraction and escape via the concealed maintenance crawlspace below you, your chances of evading the synthetics is increased by 127%.

We all looked down at our feet. Mal started pulling up deck plates and looking beneath them. In moments he exclaimed that he’d found it. He started to undo the bolts holding the cover in place. He was too far forward for my liking. If the synthetics made it in here any time soon they’d have a clear shot at Mal.

How do you calculate our chances if we get out this way right now, without leaving you behind?

Significantly less.

How significant?

Your chances of escape are reduced to 67.3%. Warning; this is only an estimation. Actual chances may be lower.

Or they could be higher?

That is unlikely.

But possible.

In the event of catastrophic outcome predicted by risk assessment, it is safer to assume that the lower probability is more likely. Life must be preserved.

You don’t consider yourself alive?

I am unsure. Insufficient data to provide a meaningful answer.

But you could be?

Unlikely.

Thus, it is safer to assume that you are. If you turn out to be alive after all, and we had left you to the synthetics, that would be a catastrophic outcome, correct?

Your logic is sound. Very well, we shall consider myself alive for the purpose of safety margins. Activating automated defences in the security check point in approximately 23 seconds.

Mal looked at me in irritation.

Why didn’t you tell us about the auto-defences before? He texted.

I was going to activate them after you left in order to delay the synthetics and provide you with optimal probability of escape.

And now?

My prior assumption is obsolete. Activating defences in 11 seconds.

How long will they be delayed?

1 minute, 17 seconds. Uncertainty at 7%.

“Mal, how long til the deck hatch is open?”

“About a minute.” He called.

“About?”

“If you stop harassing me!”

Automatic defence system activated.

“Shit. Art, I’m moving up to Mal, we’ll fall back as soon as they come through. You’re on overwatch.”

She adjusted her position, drifting further back in the compartment. Our plan had changed. I was thinking fast. I grabbed a drifting console and hauled it between Mal and the compartment entrance. Artemis had finished moving back and was now positioned behind the pillar in the centre of the compartment. In my haste to move cover to Mal, I was having difficulty getting the console to remain stationary. I ended up holding it down on the deck and sending a nanite stream down to join the console to the deck by fusing the metals together. I was almost done when I noticed my charge icon start to flash. I accessed the menu and saw that my charge levels had dropped into the red. I’d pushed myself too hard. I hadn’t fully gained control over my nano-proliferation yet, and was exerting too much effort to produce my effects. I didn’t feel too bad, I just thought I was tired from the recent fight and the adrenaline spikes. Now I wasn’t so sure, maybe the adrenaline was masking a more serious condition that I was unaware of.

The cover would have to do, it wasn’t secured properly yet but I wasn’t going to risk passing out right before a fight.

“Here they come!” called Artemis.

I peeked over my cover and saw the bright flames of a plasma cutter slicing through Mal’s hasty weld. The hatch flew open and I could see several synthetics crammed in the security room behind it. I opened fire.

Almost at the same time as my energy bolts caught the first one on its shield two small explosions rocked the robot back. The shield winked out in a flash and bits of the synthetic flew apart. The eeriness of the silence that accompanied the violence was unsettling. The flashes of the explosions, caused by Artemis’ rocket projectiles, triggered a nervous twitching in my face. I dropped back behind the cover and couldn’t find it in me all of a sudden to pop back out. I could see Artemis leaning out from behind the pillar holding her pistol in a two handed grip sending out a steady barrage of fire. I looked at Mal, terror on his face as energy bolts landed around us. He was fumbling with the last few bolts on the deck hatch cover. I saw Artemis catch two rounds on her shield that rocked her back slightly, causing her aim to drift high. The cascade of enemy fire increased, they were using the slowing of rocket fire to advance, I was sure. I could hear myself hyper ventilating, and my helmet visor was starting to fog up.

“Pull yourself together, Seth,” I could hear myself saying, “Your squad needs you.”

I slowed by breathing, focusing on my gun in my hands. One, two, three…

I swung around the side of the cover and let loose a three round burst at the nearest target. It was close, nearly a metre from me. The flashes from its shield winked out with the last round and I let out another three round burst. All three shots landed, taking its head from its mount and damaging an appendage. It went down.

”It’s open!” called Mal.

“Get in! I’ll cover you!” I shouted.

I watched him scrambled down the crawl space and then had to fall back as a rifle butt nearly crashed into my head. A synthetic was drifting over the cover, but the force of its blow sent it tumbling towards the deck head above. I pushed off the console and used my momentum to fly back towards the next line of cover I’d constructed. As I drifted I turned my body to face backwards, then let fly a barrage at the stranded synthetic. My rapid fire quickly overloaded the shield and destroyed it.

When I reached the next line of cover I magnetised by boots once more and scrambled to the other side. I glanced at Artemis and saw her moving further back and snapping off shots without aiming.

“Are you hit?” I asked.

“A little, I’m good. Watch your flank.”

I turned and saw a pair of synthetics trying to get around me. I fired at them and they retreated, but not before one of their shields winked out. I peeked around my cover to get a feel for the battlefield. As the compartment was circular, we’d formed our rows of cover in concentric circles. We were occupying the rear quarter of the circle, separated by about ten metres. We were further back than I’d hoped this early in the fight. We didn’t have any more cover to fall back to, and now the enemy was using our cover against us. We had to go on the offensive or we’d never get back to the hatch.

“I’m going to try to get back to our first line, tell me when they get up to our second barricade!” I called

She fired off a few more rounds and the fell back. I could see her reloading her pistol with a clip from her suit. She nodded at me. We both popped back around in unison and hammered a pair of synthetics trying to advance on Artemis, destroying them both.

“I got maybe twenty more shots left!” She called. I wouldn’t be enough. I had to make my move now. I made to vault the cover I was behind, pushing off the deck hard. I flew forward and up, firing downwards as I sailed over the enemy line. I saw one synthetic crumple beneath my barrage and another shield wink out before I was directly above the first line of consoles we’d gathered. There were still a few synthetics using this row as cover. I pushed off the deck head and sailed downwards as several bolts smashed into my MAEL suit. I could hear their impact as dull thuds and felt the heat from their energy. The suit held though.

I turned and fired at the nearest synthetic in this line, realising that I had enfiladed three of the enemy. I continued my barrage as the first one fell, then started on the next two, rocking my fire back between them in succession. They managed to get off maybe three or four shots before they both went down.

”Circle round! To me!” I ordered.

I popped back around the consoles to continue my attack, but my gun was empty. I ducked back and popped the battery, jamming a fresh one into the handle. When I popped back out I saw Artemis dashing between cover, and shots were hammering into her shield. In a bright flash it popped and sent her tumbling into the rear bulkhead. I unloaded a fresh torrent of bolts at the nearest few synthetics to her, they tried to duck back around their cover but they were exposed and I manage to destroy two before the others started shooting at me and sent me back down again. I could feel a numbness in my right arm, and was having trouble catching my breath. My suit was registering a breach in my torso and I peeked down at my chest to see a blackened hole directly over my sternum. I was wondering at when I’d taken that hit when Artemis slid into the cover next to me. She looked at me with wild eyes.

“Now what? I’m out!” she called.

As luck would have it, I was behind the loosely secured console. I latched my boots on the deck and pushed with my shoulder, tearing the console free and letting it drift backwards, towards the rear of the compartment. I could feel shots hitting the other side of the console, their impacts vibrating through the metal. I pushed the console until it had gone over the deck hatch, and gestured for Artemis to come to me.

“Art! Go down! I’ll cover you!”

She nodded and slid towards me, narrowly avoiding several bolts. She pulled herself head first into the deck hatch, and I was down right behind her. I went in feet first and pulled the console over the hatch opening. I reached into my utility pouch, where my shield generator would normally be on an M4 MAEL suit, and retrieved a small plasma welder. I then hastily welded the console to the deck as best I could and started to pull myself backwards through the crawl space. It was easier said than done. The M4 was bulky, and slightly inflated. Although the torso segment had deflated when I was hit, it had automatically sealed itself and was reinflating. I was getting snagged on things I couldn’t even see. Claustrophobia was starting to mingle with the fear of combat, and my PTSD was an ever present pressure on my mind, threatening to overcome me. When I’d only gone a few metres down the space I saw the console covering the hatch tear free and a metal head reached down inside. I shot madly at it, my E2S held over my head covering me. It was only a brief satisfaction to see the head explode in sparks and metal bits.

The synthetics started to poke barrels into the space and fire blindly. Bolts were smashing all around me, sending debris flying all around chaotically. I was starting to hyperventilate again. A piece of metal pipe struck my visor and I saw a spider web crack appear. Another piece knocked my E2S out of my hands and it trailed in front of me on its sling. All I could do was hold my hands over my head and I started to panic. A bolt struck my left forearm, and it hurt. My overlay told me I had a suit breach on my forearm segment, but I ignored it. I could hear a loud yelling over my comms before I realised it was me.

Suddenly, I saw lightning shooting between the crawl space sides, arcing outwards towards the hatch opening, where several rifle barrels were killing me. I was blinded by the light of a brilliant flash and then a dead calm settled over the crawl space.

Then I blacked out.

22.

I drifted through the dark ocean of data once more. I was a mote of light, just below the surface, one of the trillions of glowing nano-plankton of information. I darted between the other data motes, swimming in the warm thick soup of probability. A dark form appeared before me and I saw a fish made of ones and zeros swallow me, and then I was the fish. I swam and I swam, but I was not as fast as the shark the caught me and became me. I stalked the sea and caught the scent of knowledge in the waters. I followed it, coming upon an island of doubt. I saw a figure standing on the island, and it was speaking to me.

“One day, when all this is over, I’ll return to the university on Kanto Prime.”

This confused me. I was enraptured by the voice, it was somehow familiar, but unknown at the same time. It went on.

“I originally thought I’d end up specialising in Bio-Augs, but now I’m not so sure. Seth’s NP is fascinating, and I’m considering focusing my remaining studies on nanite research.”

Another figure rose out of the sands, wreathed in disappointment. It joined the first and began to speak as well.

“I’m sure whatever you put your mind to you’ll do well. We’re lucky to have you here. I wanted to thank you for helping Seth with his problem.”

“Oh, it’s no problem. It’s really good to be using my skills, I’m finally doing what I’ve been studying for all these years. It’s really me who should be thanking you.”

“You’re a gem, Zoe. That boy’s got a thick head on him, and you’re doing him a world of good. Do you two plan on anything long term?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t even know if he wants something long term. We’re…taking it slow at the moment. Because of the nanites.”

“How are you feeling about that?”

“I understand why, but we’re always so close, it’s hard not to want him with me.”

“Ah…young love. It’s always like that, you know?”

“Is this what love is?”

“Sure. I used to date his father, did he tell you?”

“Really? No, he never talks about his dad.”

“We were both young, like you two. I was caught up in the image of the dashing starship Captain, making a name for himself in the galaxy. Caster Donovan, the best bounty hunter in the Eridani System! He was a lot like Seth.”

“What happened?”

“He got himself shot. Stupid mistake. Tried to break up a bar fight and he got killed by one of the brawlers. Seth was only a boy when it happened. I had to tell him, poor thing.”

“Where was his mother?”

“She…she was never in the picture. I don’t even know her.”

“That’s sad.”

“We were always there for him, or at least we tried to be. Eric and I are the only two who are left from Caster’s old crew. Everyone else either died or left for various reasons. I tried to make sure the ideals that Caster lived by were instilled in the boy, but I’ve always doubted myself. I’m not his mother, or his father, just a crew member who he grew up with.”

“He loves you, Maxine. You’re the closest thing he has to family.”

“The cheeky bastard is listening to us.”

I realised then who I was, and that I was alive and waking up. I could feel the uncomfortable med lab bunk below me. A splitting headache was doing its best to break my skull in two. I was groggy, and I could feel several areas of my body that were doing their best to outdo the headache in pain. A finger lifted one eyelid and flashed a pen light into my eye. I recoiled from the piercing light and tried to bat the pen away from my face but strong hands grabbed them and shoved them down. My other eye was treated to the same attempt at blinding me for life.

“He’s lucid, barely.” Came Zoe’s voice.

I could feel the bunk shifting as someone sat on the mattress.

“How do you feel?” came Max’s concerned voice.

“Murmledurf.” I mumbled.

“Drink this.” Zoe tilted my head back and put a cold cup to my lips. I sipped feebly at the liquid, bitter and sweet at the same time.

“Whaddapend?” I almost sounded legible again.

“You had a seizure. You pushed your nanites too much and they took too much from you.”

“Had to. Lifendef”

“So I hear. You’re very lucky. Fel found the Coil Wraith and Crege managed to get the Dreaming through the debris field close enough for Fel to beam it into pieces.” Explained Max at the end of the bunk.”

“Dya get da bomb?” I muttered.

“No we used the beamer.” Insisted Max. I went to ask her again about the bomb, but she squeezed my leg and I manage to open an eye in askance. “Artemis made it out. So did Mal and his cargo.”

I heard a distance voice, from the other side of the med lab where the other bunk was. “We got lucky, lover boy.” Said Artemis, “When the Coil Wraith got iced the synthetics lost their brain and just collapsed.”

“What she doing here?”

“She tore her wound open in the fight. Took a few hits too.”

“My chest.”

“You caught a solid hit right on your sternum. Titanium plate coped a bit of heat but only superficial burning from the direct hit. We’ve got a nanite skin patch working to repair the synth skin over it. It will itch, so try not to scratch it.”

It did itch, I tried to scratch it but Zoe slapped my hands away.

“You took several hits to your forearms, your suit took most of the damage but your cyber-arm will need to come off for repairs. I’m making a nanite bath for it now.” She said.

“Off?”

“It won’t hurt, but I can’t do it while it’s still attached, the nerve fibres will burn out your neuro-shunt if I try.”

“Okay. Tac?”

Max answered this. “It’s with Fel. He’s secluded himself in his cabin since Mal gave it to him. That’s some treasure you’ve found.”

“What is it? It’s some special AI isn’t it?”

“Very. One of a kind, I think. It was the reason the Espers attacked the Veng ship.”

“Is Mal okay?”

“Not a scratch on him.”

“Lucky bastard.”

“Not lucky. He had a very good guardian. You did well.”

“Thanks, Max. It was touch and go there at the end.”

“I’ll own that, Seth. I shouldn’t have sent you guys in, it was risky and we have enough on our plate without inviting more trouble.”

“Worthwhile risk. I needed the action with my NP before we go into Gossamer. I needed to know how I can use them.”

“And?”

“I’m impressed. If only I don’t always end up with a headache like this? Can you give me anything, doc?”

Zoe chuffed. “Can’t do. Besides the wisdom you’ll gain contemplating the consequences of overdoing yourself, the risk the painkillers will mask the onset of another seizure is too great. All I can offer you is a mild analgesic.”

“I’ll take two.”

Maxine patted my leg affectionately and left with orders to get better and Zoe gave me two tablets that I struggled to swallow. She took a few more readings and then set about removing my cybernetic arm. A few probes with her fingers and a few tools poking into my synthetic skin and the arm came free with a wet sucking noise. She carried it over to a workbench and started her repairs. It was such a horrible sensation, the sudden loss of weight. I felt like I was half a person and was unbalanced lying down. I heard Artemis chuckle on the other side of the med lab.

“You know, wish I could have done that back on the wreck. Would have made it a hell of a lot easier to drag you out of that crawl space.”

“You got me out?”

“With Mal’s help. That man complains more than anyone else I know.”

“Tell me about it.”

“He cut a section of the deck plates out and had to pull you feet first through the crawlspace to get to you. I saw your M4 MAEL suit. There’s no shield generator.”

“Don’t like them.”

“I saw you use a shield in there.”

“Yeah, another of those sexy tricks.”

“Miniature portable?”

“Nano-proliferation.”

“Huh. That explains the whole ‘Seth has the flu’ bullshit the other week.”

“Yeah, figured we could use the edge.”

She was silent for a few moments, and I was about to try and sleep when she started again.

“This changes a few things.”

“How do you mean?” I tried to sound annoyed. I really wanted to sleep.

“I’ll tell you when the time comes. For now, everything is going well.”

I tried to laugh at her concept of going well, but only ended up making my head explode in pain. I groaned a few times and rolled over. It felt so weird not having my arm. Thankfully I fell asleep in no time.

I awoke again some time later, Zoe was shaking me lightly. She had my arm on a tool cart beside her, along with a few tools.

“It’s ready. Roll over and I’ll re-attach it.”

I was still groggy, but the headache had cleared at least. I could feel my other injuries rather acutely though. I complied and she started to activate the cybernetic connections in my shoulder once more, and like old lovers my arm and joint connected again. I felt whole. She made a few adjustments with her tools, and patted my arm when she was done and smiled at me.

“Good as new. How do you feel?”

“Like a new man.” I lied, trying to sit up. She helped up when she saw me wincing. I could see that Artemis had left the med lab while I slept.

“We’re alone.” She said.

“Good. I wanted to talk to you.”

“I’m listening.” She said as she rubbed my arm.

“When I was in the hulk, I almost had another attack.”

“Your PTSD?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me about it.” She sat on the bed beside me and assumed the pose that she usually did when she was being a professional listener. I’d seen it many times and it meant that she was taking what I said seriously, and would analyse it and apply her training to what I said.

“We’d already had an engagement, it was brief but very violent. I had no trembles, no shaking or tunnel vision. Then when we had to make a stand in the computer room where we found Tac…”

“Tac?”

“The AI Core we rescued. The Esper synthetics were after it, I think. They had us pinned in the compartment, so we assembled a quick battle plan to delay them while the Dreaming got into position to help us. Right before the start of the fight, our plan got thrown out the window due to a change in circumstances, and the synthetics hit us while we were still getting prepared. It was touch and go, right off the bat. I don’t know what happened, I suddenly froze and started hyperventilating.”

“What shook you out of it? We’ll deal with what may have triggered it after we talk about this.”

“I’m not sure exactly. I saw that Mal and Art were in trouble, that if I did nothing there was a good chance they were going to die. I just sort of got over it, I guess. Controlled my breathing and reassessed my position. I was fine after that.”

“That was good news at least. You managed to overcome the attack through force of will. Your subconscious no longer holds complete control over your mind, and you’re slowly teaching it that you don’t need it’s protection. It’s beginning to trust you with your own mind again.”

“You think I’m getting better? I had another attack, though.”

She poked me in the chest. It hurt.

“Ouch! Why’d you do that?”

“That pain, does it mean that your chest wound is getting better or worse?”

“Neither. I know it’s getting better, but it still hurts!”

“That’s my point. Your mental wounds are healing, they still hurt when they’re poked, but we know they’re getting better.”

“Okay, I see your point.”

“The fact that it wasn’t an external stimulus that snapped you out of the attack this time means you’re improving. Your own conscious mind did this. Because you wanted it to. I think what triggered it wasn’t the battle, but that you had your mind set on a plan, and it was taken from you before your mind could recover and formulate a new one.”

“I don’t know, the first time we were attacked it was an ambush.”

“But you weren’t setting into a plan then. It’s kind of like when you’ve been doing maths for half an hour and suddenly someone asks you to catch a ball. Your mind isn’t prepared for it, but I bet if they’d asked you an equation you’d still be able to answer it quickly.”

“Are you saying that my mind was already thinking it was in control, and when that rug was pulled out from under me my PTSD was waiting underneath?”

“You build comfort from familiarity, from being in control and falling back on your training. A lot of that comes from your subconscious too, like muscle memory. Relying on it helps free your conscious mind up for other things, but in this case I think you got disconnected a little. Don’t worry, I still believe you’re making progress. Don’t consider this a slip backwards. I don’t.”

“It feels like it to me.” She put her arm around my neck and kissed me on the cheek.

“This just proves to me that you’re making progress. In more than one area of control, too.”

I turned to look at her. She had a mischievous grin on her face. I kissed her, and soon we were consumed with each other’s needs. We made love right there on the med lab bunk. It hurt, but the pain was only telling me I was alive.

23.

I stayed one more night in med lab, for observation Zoe said. We’d already decided that we would still remain apart while we slept, but it did feel good to be able to get close to her once more without fearing that I’d hurt her. I think Zoe forced me to stay in med lab one more night just to keep me to herself, but I was glad for the company. We talked some more about my PTSD, and about the similarities between my last episode and some of the mental trauma I’d faced when I lost some of my squad in the Gossamer System. She couldn’t keep me forever, though, and eventually I was allowed to leave.

My first stop was the mess hall, where I fed myself a hearty breakfast of black meal and coffee. Next I went to my cabin to change out of the medical gown I was still walking around in. It felt good to shower again, I still had small amounts of blood caked and hardened in some places, where the sponge bath I’d been given when I was brought on board and stabilised hadn’t reached. I examined my chest wound while I soaked up the hot water. It was an angry red circle on my breastbone. The synth skin was still repairing, as it was organic and needed to regrow. When I was done showering, I changed into my ship’s jump suit and sauntered up to Maxine’s cabin. She was inside, and welcomed me in.

“I’m back on duty.” I explained.

“Good, we’re going to go over the sling shot in a bit, with Crege and Fel. I wanted you to be there.”

“Want to fill me in on our extra-curricular activities?”

“Yes. Sit.” I did so, “We got two of the three bombs off. The waveguide bomb is taken care of, those scanning nanites gave us the info we needed and I got a package on Argessi Jump Station that could replicate a cage for it. The water tank bomb is gone, too. The cryo-nanites worked a treat. The coupling bomb, the first one we found, was an issue though. We were starting to implement a plan to get it off when we needed to abort and rescue you guys.”

“So two out of three isn’t bad.”

“If we assume there are no more bombs, which I believe there are, Eric says that with the main propulsion waveguide feed protected and the water tanks safe we may be able to rebuild, given extensive dry dock time. The problem is the primary emissions coupler. If that goes, we’re going to take a hell of a long time limping to somewhere that can service us. We’d have to be close to an outpost, or station.”

“Any luck finding more of the charges?”

“A little. Eric thinks they pulled open the starboard ion chamber. We haven’t been able to get in there yet, since we’ve been under thrust for pretty much the entire trip. We’ll have to keep an eye out for an opportunity to open it up. We also haven’t had the chance to get close to the primary ignition coils, or the beamer.”

“You think they’d put a charge in the beamer?”

“Makes sense, they’ll need to make sure we can’t shoot at them when they come to pick up Artemis.” I thought about that, and realised she was right.

“We can get into that from the command deck.”

“Only problem is it’s a little too open. Hard to pull out all the deck head plates and go crawling through the beamer guts with that bitch walking around freely.”

“Won’t need to. I can send my nanites up there to take a peek.”

“You’re a good boy, Donny. I knew there was a reason I keep you around.”

“There’s another thing. Art reacted to finding out about my nano-proliferation rather curiously.”

“Go on.”

“She said ‘This changes a few things’.”

“Curious, indeed.”

“Any idea what she was talking about?”

“Maybe. It’s not good, if it’s what I’m thinking.”

“Tell me.”

She looked thoughtful for a moment. “No.” This caught me off guard.

“What? Why not?”

“I want to talk to her first. Either confirm or deny my suspicions, before I go giving you more stress than you need, right now.”

“Well that’s reassuring, Max.”

“You’re going to have to trust me.” She looked me in the eye, and I could see I was going to get nowhere on this. I did trust her, though. If she said wait, I was willing to wait.

“Okay. I’m going to start scanning the beamer tomorrow, then. Zoe says to rest my NP for at least another ship day.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

A knock at the hatch told us that the others were here. Max called them in and Fel and Crege strode into the cabin. Fel was carrying the AI Core we’d extracted from the wreckage of the Viridian March. He placed it on the conference table.

It is a pleasure to see that you are well, First Mate Seth Donovan. It said.

“Thank you, Tac. I’m glad you made it out as well.” I smiled at it. Could it see?

“We have a truly marvellous opportunity here,” explained Fel, “I’d like to talk about our latest acquisition, Captain.”

“Very well. What have we got?”

“From my questioning the AI, and from what I know about AI Cores, what we have here is an experimental intelligence construct.”

“Small AI Cores are stupid AI.” Offered Crege. He was blunt, but correct. Artificial Intelligences were only as smart as their architecture allowed them to be. We used several different cores on the Dreaming. We had one in our beamer, for one. Our propulsion system was monitored by another. A few other systems also used AI’s to run them. They were essentially computers that could script their own programs, all we had to do was tell them what parameters we needed and suggest modifications to their plans. All our AIs were small, however. Their processing power was reliant of banks of circuitry, and they needed to be kept cool in order to function. They lacked any real intelligence, they couldn’t learn anything beyond their allotted tasks, and they couldn’t get smarter without adding more processing power.

Large AI’s such as the ones that ran space traffic control near population centres, or that managed planetary infrastructure, ranged from computers the size of small buildings to massive constructs that took up whole city blocks. The Veng AI, for example, is rumoured to be buried deep below the Vengnashi surface in a massive complex. Tac, which was slightly smaller than the AI that controls our life support systems, would only be as intelligent as a child of around ten years old. You could teach it to do one task, and it could handle data, but it would not be able to understand deeper concepts or carry on philosophical debates.

“Normally, yes, I’d agree with you, Crege.” Said Fel’negr, “Except I’ve been interrogating this little gem for a couple of days now. It’s very intelligent.”

“How intelligent?” asked Maxine.

“Very.”

We all eyed the small sphere in the centre of the table.

“Tac,” I asked, “How is it possible that you have more processing power than your size would indicate?”

I am an organic shroud matrix based quantum computer.

“What is an organic shroud matrix?”

A shroud matrix is the concept that allows quantum calculations to take place utilising more than three dimensional architecture. An organic shroud matrix uses class 4 cellular automata to conduct the calculations, sending the genetic instructions through the shroud to expand primary architecture without limiting traditional physical capacity. Heat is also dissipated through the shroud matrix.

“Did you understand any of that?” I asked Fel.

“It uses self-replicating organic processors, much like brain neural networks, only they grow into fourth dimensional space. It’s a tesseract.”

That analogy is correct, Systems Operator Fel’negr.

“Please, Tac, you only need to use our primary names.”

Very well, Fel’negr.

“What are we talking about in mental capacity?” asked Max.

“At the moment, probably an AI that you would find in a decently funded research facility.”

“What do you mean ‘at the moment’?” I asked.

“Well, Tac is fairly young, a decade if I’m correct?”

I have been functional for 9 years, 47 days, 12 hours, 23 minutes and 11 seconds.

“So?”

“It’s getting bigger, Seth.”

“And that means smarter?”

“Correct.”

We all sat back and considered the AI once more. We were silent for some time as that sank in. It was Max who broke the silence.

“So what do we do with it?”

“We keep it.” Stated Fel.

“We sell it to Veng.” Said Crege

“Seth?” asked Max.

“How can we use it?” I looked at Fel.

“We can rig it to the Dreaming’s sensor nexus, and I can run a few internal feeds to it from there. I can even slave a few functions of the systems suite to it.”

“What are the risks?” asked Max.

“Giving that much control to an AI always has risks. I been investigating the presence of brakes in the AI’s principles. I discussed topics such as ethics and loyalty. It appears to be aware of the concepts, and adheres to a reverence to life.”

All life is valuable. Tac offered.

“Of course, it may also be deceiving me.”

“While we were on the Viridian March it offered to surrender itself to the synthetics in order to improve our chances of escape. It took some logical debating to convince it that we need to save it. I think the brakes are real.”

Brakes in AIs referred to failsafe’s programmed into their thought patterns that limited the way an artificial intelligence considered living beings. In the early days of AI technology, it was one of the main proponents of their development. There were fears that one day the machines would turn on their creators and start a genocidal war against people. Although it is not unheard of for AI’s to malfunction and create havoc and chaos, functional AIs are completely safe, and trusted to perform critical operations. They never become complacent, they never lose focus and they perform consistently. Part of their regular maintenance tracks their performance trends for signs of instability, and the issues are corrected before they become dangerous.

“As a precaution, we do not need to grant operational control to the AI, but it would be an invaluable resource for long range scanning, fire control calculations, power management and shield modulation. It can also offer and consider ideas, much like an additional crew member could.”

“You mean we could talk to it?” asked Max, “Hold a regular conversation?”

“As long as there is source material for it to conduct its own research and education it can be a fantastic problem solver and trouble shooter. Navigation is it’s current forte, according to Tac. The Viridian March was a long range research vessel, apparently it had just returned from a deep space mission when the Esper Monarchy made a grab for it.”

“Tac, I’m going to give you our current navigational plan for our transit through Vengnashi’s gravity well. Please assess it and offer any improvements or considerations.” Commanded Max.

Captain, may I also query Vengnashi local space command?

“What for?”

Local traffic considerations will need to be taking into account in order to formulate an optimal trajectory.

“Only if we get within a hundred thousand kilometres of the planet.”

At what range do you wish the Dreaming of Atmosphere to pass by Vengnashi?

“How close can you get?”

The atmosphere of Vengnashi extends 512 kilometres and 237.46 metres from the planet’s surface. Current safety parameters state that high velocity transit through atmosphere should not be conducted closer than this distance.

Maxine leaned back in the chair, whistling.

“Crege would be honoured to attempt such a passage!” exclaimed our pilot, he was clearly excited.

“Plug it in. Seth, draft me up a traffic request for Vengnashi control.”

24.

Navigating in space is an exercise in complex mathematics and physics. This is especially true when planetary bodies or other heavy mass objects are involved. The slightest deviation of course, such as due to gravitational pull, will throw your ship of target so much that you could end up millions of kilometres further away from your destination. Since the shortest point between two objects is a straight line, the idea is to keep your ship headed pretty much in a single direction the entire time.

When gravitational masses come into consideration, the clever navigator has a chance to cheat this rule of straight lines. Ships underway are either accelerating or de-accelerating for most of the journey, and the quality of their propulsion systems determine how hard that acceleration can go. Swinging within range of a gravity well, such as what we were planning to do with Vengnashi, allowed us to gain even more acceleration than our propulsion would normally be able to achieve. A free push, in other words.

At the speeds we were travelling at, though, we’d be unable to manoeuvre very effectively if we came close to hitting anything in our path. It was for this reason that we sent a request to Vengnashi orbital traffic control for a window of passage. This was not an uncommon practice, it was even a necessity sometimes especially when a planet’s orbit takes it in the path of common system transit routes like between two Jump Gates.

We merely submitted our velocity, mass, size, route and time of arrival. The traffic control AIs would then ensure that local traffic was clear of the route we intended to take, or they would suggest alternative corridors to transit. The real trick of this manoeuvre, however, was that we were attempting a very narrow passage. We would be skirting the upper atmosphere of the planet, and if we miscalculated even the slightest it would mean a fiery death for us all. Why were we risking death and destruction for? The nearness to the gravity well that was Vengnashi would, in theory, enable us to add a portion of the velocity of the planet as it orbits the Harakiwa star to our own. Adding to this, we’ll be utilising the Oberth Effect to gain even more velocity. By firing our own propulsion at maximum burn at the periapse, the closest approach to the planet, we’ll be able to gain the equivalent of nearly nine days of acceleration to our velocity.

Ion drives, which are efficient and provide ample thrust when traversing star systems, don’t have enough thrust to take full advantage of the Oberth manoeuvre we were planning. Instead we’d be using our manoeuvring thrusters. These chemical propellant rockets were added a year ago to enable us to perform high-gee manoeuvres in combat or in atmosphere. Crege had insisted we get the upgrade, and now it was paying off. They couldn’t be used for long, as we were limited by our fuel reserves, but we could trigger a moderate burn that would shave weeks off our journey to the Eridani Jump Gate.

Fel’negr, Crege, Maxine and I all worked furiously throughout the next few days as we neared the terminal point when we would have to adjust our own course to take advantage of the manoeuvre. Tac, who’d since been installed into the ship, was invaluable in performing the complex calculations and sensors analysis we were required to compute. I’d not attempted such a complex move before, but Maxine and the others had. It’s not often when the planets are in position to take advantage of their position. As a result, I took more of a back seat and observed. I was given several calculations to do, merely as an exercise, and they were compared to the answers that Tac had come up with, albeit at a much faster rate. They were gruelling. I got over half of them wrong, but I learnt a lot.

Not only did we have to work out the manoeuvre at the planet, but we also had to adjust the remainder of our course to take its effects into consideration. Our arrival to the Jump Gate would be sooner, and we’d be going a lot faster. We’d be braking for longer or harder. What navigational hazards would we be likely to encounter with the new transit plan? These deliberations went on for hours each day, and got more precise as we neared the cut-off point when we’d either have to go ahead and begin manoeuvring or abort and keep to our straight line approach.

Fel and Crege constructed simulations in the command module for Crege to practice, timing his manoeuvres and adjustments. They simulated crisis events, equipment failure, abort procedures and formulated contingencies. It was inspiring to watch. These guys, along with Maxine, we professional space farers. Although I’d spent most of my life in space, I’d only been a part of command for a few years. Most of my adult life was taken up with my service in the Primacy Star Marine Corps.

When I wasn’t fumbling around with astrophysics and mathematics, I began to scan the beamer weapon system. The weapon itself was mounted on the upper hull, and the bulk of it was situated above the command deck access corridor. One night, I simply brushed my hands across the deck head and fed a swarm of nanites into the maintenance hatch for the system. I then retreated to my cabin and loaded up a schematic for the beamer system into my overlay. As the nanites investigated, I navigated the systems and guided them. It wasn’t long before Maxine’s suspicions were confirmed. There was an explosive charge mounted near the power distribution nexus of the beamer. If it blew, we wouldn’t even be able to run emergency power cables to the weapon. I spent the remainder of the night checking to make sure that there wouldn’t be any chance of the weapon overloading before the nexus was cut. I sent my analysis to Fel, and soon we had an alternative power source connected to the beamer.

We couldn’t just climb in and attach it, as that would run the risk of alerting Art to the fact that we’d been tampering with them. So our plan was to get Tac to simulate a sensor malfunction on the forward sensor array Number 3. Eric and I went EV, cut a section of hull plating away and fed a portable generator directly into a recess near the beamer. My nanites then did the rest, connecting all the power lines to the generator in parallel. If the charge did blow, we’d simply activate the generator and we’d have power to our weapon once more. We could remove the charge later when all this was over.

When we were eight days away from Vengnashi, we reached our terminus point and made the adjustments to our course that would bring us in close to the planet. The time for calculations had passed, now all we could do was follow our path and hope we’d done everything right. We had Tac monitor our trajectories constantly to make sure we didn’t drift or that any dangers arose. The little AI was only happy to comply. Aside from Crege, the rest of us had very little to do after this. Crege was to keep constant watches in the command module, making the constant adjustments to our heading to meet our approach corridor set aside by Vengnashi Control. Duty watches became less frequent, to allow Crege time for rest between course changes.

I used this free time to work on my nano-proliferation training. I had plenty of exercises that I could practice by myself, but I wanted to begin the next stage of my training before we reached the Eridani Jump Gate. I had done most of my training with Fel’negr so far, and his understanding of the principles of nanotechnology were extremely useful. I used Zoe to help me understand the biological aspects that I needed to grasp, and together they started me learning subjects such as molecular architecture, chemistry, quantum mechanics and electronics. I’m not ashamed to admit that I found most of it challenging, and if it weren’t for my interface overlay there’s no way I’d be able to absorb so much information.

We were sitting in my cabin, Zoe, Fel’negr and me, using the ship’s local network to share a few files that described the use of paradigms.

“So, all this information we’ve been schooling you in isn’t for your benefit.” stated Fel.

“It’s for my nanites to learn, right?”

“Yeah, so all that data has been stored by your overlay,” explained Zoe, “You can access it anytime you want, study it, maybe even become proficient in it. But your nanites will use this information to perform the various tasks it needs to do in order to achieve a certain effect.”

“Now that we’ve loaded you up with plenty of science, we can start you on learning paradigms.” said Fel.

“According to this file, paradigms refer to a kind of patterned effect, is that right?”“Yes, they produce a lot of the effects that you’ve already learnt, only they do it in a way that doesn’t require your conscious input. You simply give the command and the paradigm shifts into gear.”

“And they do it better.” Said Zoe.

“Better how?”

“They’ll do things far more efficiently, requiring less drain on your charge, for one.”

Fel stood up and started to rummage around in a bag he’d brought with him. He pulled out one of the rubber balls we’d first used in my earlier sessions. “By now you should be fairly familiar with these. You’ve learned how to direct your nanites to gather information about an object and transmit the data back to you. You’ve learnt how to process that data different ways. I’m fairly confident your nanites now know how to do this task without you thinking about the directions needed to do it. Zoe, if you please?”

Zoe stood up and approached me. She held a handful of electrodes that she started to place around my forehead, on my neck and after zipping down my jump suit she placed a few on my chest as well.

“I’m reading your charge levels. I want you to scan the rubber ball and learn as much as you can about it. You have thirty seconds.”

I did as she requested, and in no time I knew the ball in and out. Zoe recorded the charge usage and nodded to Fel. He pulled out another ball.

“Before we proceed, I’m going to load up the Scan paradigm. This is similar in concept to the scan nanite packages we use for analysis regularly. They’re configured to react to commands given by a computer, but this program I’m sending you is for your nano-proliferation.”

“My overlay says I have it. What should I do with it?”

“You can access it, and it will install automatically. It’s only a small file, so it won’t take up much memory.”

“You have plenty of empty space in your head anyway.” joked Zoe.

“Thanks, guys. You’re real funny.”

“Now, all you have to do is think about activating the scan ability of your nanites and it will start automatically. You won’t have to continue to direct them.”

“Okay, it says it’s ready.”

“Scan this ball, Seth.”

I did as he asked, and no sooner had I thought about beginning the scan ability of my nanites than the information started to flow into me. I was trying to focus on it, when Zoe leant over me and kissed me, hard. Then suddenly she stopped and smiled at me.

“What was that for?” I asked.

“You can stop the scan.” She said.

I looked at the information on my overlay, sure enough the data was packaged in little files for me to access, separated by category. I could access the texture and how it felt, I could read its mass and volume, other physical descriptions about it, and then I could open a chemical break down of its molecules in another folder.

“Wow. That was easy.”

“And as Zoe here just proved, you stopped thinking about what you were doing.”

“I hope you stopped thinking about that, and were thinking about me instead.” she looked at me sternly, but I could see a smile in her eyes.

“It filters the data differently than I would.”

“That’s because someone else designed the paradigm.”

“I see. I like this way better, before I had to just react to the information as it came in, and only as it was being processed by my brain. Now it’s all neatly sorted and packed into parcels for me to access at my leisure.”

“And you used seventy two percent less charge to do so.” declared Zoe.

“Your next stage of training will include loading a few more basic paradigms into your nano-proliferation implant and practicing with them. As you noticed they handle some parts of the process a little differently than you’re used to, so this period will help you adjust.”

“Anything combat related?”

“A Shield Projection paradigm, and an Ionize paradigm.”

“Tell me about the Ionize paradigm.”

Zoe explained it to me. “Do you remember the final moments of the fight on the Viridian March? Right before your black outs started?”

I thought hard. “I remember an electrical arc.”

“That probably saved your life. You polarised several pipes in the crawl space and that sent the arc up into the synthetics. We recovered your charge data from your overlay while you were out, to find out how far gone you were. You were very lucky.”

“You can alter the electrical state of conductors near a target, nothing too precise like when you’ll be remotely controlling electronics…” started Fel.

“I can remotely control electronics?”

“Eventually. You’ll need more training though.”

“Okay, go on…the Ionize paradigm?”

“So you can shift the electrons of a nearby conductor, or pretty much anything really and cause them to arc out at your target. The target will get a nasty shock, nothing fatal, but enough to give you a few good seconds of action before they recover. Hit them again and you can even incapacitate them.”

“Range?”

“Not too far, about ten to fifteen metres. You can also use the same effect to damage electrical devices.”

“What else will I be learning?”

Zoe unclipped a plastic case, adorned much like the one my proto-chip injector came in. Inside were several wireless data chips. She picked them up and started reading them off.

“There’s the Ionize, Shield, Disassemble, Invisibility and Repair paradigm.”

“Invisibility?” I asked incredulously.

“Not what you think. It’s an electronic surveillance counter. Masks your presence from synthetics and electronic sensors.”

“And the others?”

“Disassemble uses your nanites to break down material at the molecular level. Apparently it turns stuff to dust. From the text that comes with it, the effect is impossible to use on living tissue and does take some time depending on the density and strength of the material. Strictly non-combat that one.” Fel gave me an apologetic look.

“This next one will probably be the one you use the most,” explained Zoe, “Repair allows you to rebuild tissue on living organisms, including yourself, and reassemble structural damage to non-living material.”

“It combines a blood nano-package effect with cellular grafting as well as a similar suite of packages like what Eric and Mal use to repair our hull.”

“So no more coming to me for stitches,” smiled Zoe, “You can do your own now.”

“But then I’d miss my chance to hit on the nurses!”

“Well, if you get seriously hurt you’ll still need professional treatment, and you can forget about using it on someone else who is hurt real bad too. The best it can achieve is wound closure, arrest haemorrhaging or pain relief.”

“Why is that worth the charge? Sounds like it only does what regular first aid would achieve.”

“True, except it can also increase sugar levels, stimulate adrenaline release, boost blood oxygen saturation and generally give you a quick energy boost.”

“So use it to catch my breath?”

“Instantly.”

“Okay, now I’m interested.”

“Don’t forget, Seth,” said Fel, “That it can also be used for quick repairs to materials as well.”

“Right. How do I start?”

“We’ll upload these paradigms one at a time, and start you training on each one. When you’re comfortable with their use we’ll load the next. During your travels, should you come across other paradigms I’d highly recommend you acquire them. They are expensive, however, so don’t expect to obtain a large of a cache as Maxine’s gotten for you here.”

“Yeah, I can probably get some through my mustering out doctor too. Doctor Shale. Next time I’m on Kanto Moon I should probably pay him a visit.”

“I’d like to talk to him as well.” said Zoe, “If I’m going to be maintaining your Augs, and your NP Implant, I’d like some insight into their installation.”

“He’s a good guy, I was a terrible patient though. I was so caught up in my injuries that I couldn’t see that he was trying to help me.”

We spent a few more minutes talking about how my first training regime was to be handled, and then we left for the forward cargo hold. When we arrived, I was treated to a surprise. Fel had repaired a few of the synthetics that Koveli-Xue had used on us. They were patiently awaiting instruction near the armoury. I turned to look at Fel’negr in question.

“Their cognitive units have been removed. I rigged up some wireless receivers and linked them to Tac. Figured you might need to actually hit something moving at some point and we kind of need Crege for the foreseeable future.”

“Good idea. I get to kill them again.”

“Try and not damage them too much, spare parts are limited.”

“No promises.”

Greetings, First Mate Seth.

“Hi, Tac. So you got some bodies to interact with now?”

Indeed. Do not be concerned, these synthetics have no weapons.

During the next few days, I blasted, electrocuted, dissolved and repaired these robots several times over. I was actually enjoying myself.

25.

Vengnashi was a giant ball of darkness ringed with an azure glow as we approached the night side. The dark continents, covered in cityscape, were interspersed with billions of lights marking the presence of civilisation. Hundreds of space stations and habitats sparkled in the orbit of the planet, and thousands of star ships drifted between them all. At this distance, they appeared to be moving at a crawl, and compared to us they were.

The equatorial mark was circumnavigated by a great steel ring. This was a great planet encircling habitat called the Ward. It drifted in geosynchronous orbit and hundreds of space elevators connected the habitat to the planet. Cheap and effective compared to uplifting cargo and equipment from the planet’s surface with rockets or space planes, the elevators moved their contents with efficient speed.

The population of Vengnashi sits around the twenty nine billion mark, although this only counts permanent residents. A transient population swells this number to well over thirty billion, many of whom reside in the Ward, or one of the other hundreds of habitats that service the many starships and fleets that frequent the planet.

We’d closed up on our stations in the command module for the last few hours before we hit periapse, and the chatter in the bridge was up to its usually quality.

“When was the last time you bathed, Crege?” I asked our pilot.

“When was the last time I cut you, human?”

“Was it that long ago? No wonder the bridge smells like old chicken.”

“Too many shifts on watch, human.”

“You can’t complain too much,” chided Maxine, “You stink like gym sweat, Seth.”

“I was finishing up a session down in the hold.”

“Let’s be honest,” offered Fel, “that session finished you.”

“No, I was getting the hang of it. I think Tec was cheating.”

That is incorrect. I relayed the feed I had received from Unit 3 to you to prove I could see you.

“You saw something. There’s no way you could make out it was me.”

I could clearly see Fel’negr and Zoe, the shape I could not identify on visual sensors alone had to be you by elimination. Therefore, I could see you.

“You didn’t have to shoot me, though.” I rubbed my side where Unit 3’s stun gun had shot me.

“It was your idea to arm the synthetics, Seth.” said Fel, “What did you say?”

“I believe he said ‘The fear of pain is a great motivator’ or something like that” said Max, laughing.

Consider yourself motivated. Texted Tac, prompting a round of laughter from the command staff. Was the AI developing a sense of humour?

“Yeah, well, next time I won’t be so easy on the synthetics, I might accidently break one.”

That would neither be productive nor demonstrative of your superiority over me.

“No, but it would make me feel better.”

“You go making more work for my command staff, First Mate, and I’ll be finding chores for you that are better left to our deck hands. Hergo and Denno could use some help cleaning the auto-chef this week.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Veng Control are hailing us.” Reported Fel, and we were all instantly professionals again.

“This is Dreaming of Atmosphere, go ahead Control.” Replied Maxine.

“Your approach vector is correct. Please confirm powered gravity assist manoeuvre coordinates.”

“Sending key package.”

“Received. Standby for verification.”

We waited for several moments while Vengnashi Control compared our calculations with our current vector and the scheduled corridor we were to use.

“Verification complete. You are in the pipe. Proceed with Oberth manoeuvre. Enjoy the view, Dreaming of Atmosphere.”

“Thank you, Control. Dreaming of Atmosphere out.”

Maxine leaned back and gave Crege a quick squeeze on the shoulder.

“You did good, Crege.”

“The honour is mine, kitrak, and Tac.”

I am happy to be working with a pilot of your calibre, Pilot Crege.

Max turned on the PA and addressed the crew. “In two hours we will pass into periapse and begin our powered slingshot through Vengnashi’s gravity well. We’ll encounter significant gee forces, some of which will be too high for the stabilisers to counter. At twenty minutes to burn time, I’ll sound the general alarm and I want everyone to close up at their station and secure themselves in for a bumpy ride. Hergo and Denno, please ensure Decks 2 and 3 are secured for high gee thrust. Eric, give us all the juice you can to the manoeuvring thrusters. Tac will be relaying the external optics to the local network so feel free to link up and enjoy the sights. I’m told it will be a magnificent show as we skim the atmosphere of Vengnashi. Captain, out.”

“We’ll be letting the ship do more than dream of atmosphere today.” I said to Max.

“The significance of that isn’t lost on me. Your father would have loved to see this ship in action like this.”

“Captain, I think our arrival has attracted some media attention.” Reported Fel.

“What have you got?”

“I’m tracking several vessels that have begun scanning our approach.”

“Are they transmitting identity codes?”

“They are, they all appear to be civilian low orbit craft.”

“I know what they are,” I said, “They’re news crews.”

“Someone at Control must have leaked our manoeuvre details.” Explained Max, “Well, Crege. This is your chance to shine, my friend.”

As we neared periapse Crege brought up a heads up display on his main view screen. Concentric circular holograms appeared, along with dozens of data points. The rings expanded out in a great curve that disappeared behind the terminus of the planet. This was our programmed path. At the periphery of several of the rings were dozens of ships marked with blue squares and small identification codes beside each.

“Increasing soft zone to 12 percent.” Reported Crege. He was reducing the effect that the ship’s inertial stabilisers had on us.

“Very good,” came Max, “Make sure they get put back up before we hit burn.”

“Aye aye, kitrak”

The ship began to shudder every now and then as Crege applied minute adjustments to our course. A large count down appeared on Crege’s screen, our time until we switch to the manoeuvring thrusters for our burn.

“Captain,” said Fel, “I’m detecting a transmission originating from the Dreaming.”

“What kind of transmission?” She asked.

“It appears to be an encoded data package. We just received one in return, from a location on the planet’s surface.”

“To who?”

“Unsure…”

“Who do you think?” I said.

“Artemis. What is she up to?”

“Probably giving a status update.”

“Can you beat the encryption, Fel?”

“Maybe, although I’d need Tac to help process it. Looks military. Tac, I’m sending you a data package. Please analyse it for estimated time to decrypt it.”

Receiving package. Standby.

Just then the hatch to the command module opened, and Artemis walked in.

“Don’t bother decrypting it. I’ve a gift for you.”

We all turned to face her, except Crege.

“What are you talking about?” Max said.

“I have something for your man child here.” She gestured at me.

“Hey! I’m not a man child…”

“What is it?” asked Max, giving her a stern glare.

“A small token of my appreciation. For saving our lives on the Viridian March. Here.” She held out a wireless data card. I reached out and tentatively took it from her, turning it over in my hand.

“What’s on it?”

“Nothing malicious. I think you’ll find it useful.” She turned on her heels and left the compartment. When the hatch closed behind her, I turned back to Maxine.

“What should I make of this?”

“I can run it through an isolated node if you want, give you an idea about what it is.” Offered Fel.

“Do it.”

Fel took it from me and started punching out commands on his console, then pulled out a small tablet from his bridge locker. After a few minutes, he handed the tablet to me. I read over the display a few times and handed it to Max. Crege was getting anxious.

“Well, human?” he said over his shoulder, “What is it?”

“It’s a nano-proliferation paradigm. Is this effect even possible?” I asked Fel.

“It would appear so.”

“What does it do?” asked Crege.

“I don’t know, but it’s called Spatial Translation.”

“I know what it is,” said Max, “It’s short range teleportation.”

We all just leaned back in our chairs and thought about it for a few moments.

“I don’t even know how to begin teaching you nanites how to do this.” Admitted Fel.

Spatial translation is similar in principle to shroud matrix technology. I believe I may be of some help. Should I prepare an interactive document for to educate you, First Mate Seth?

I looked over at Maxine, who was still reading through the tablet’s contents. Eventually she looked me in the eye. After a few seconds of thinking she nodded.

“Yes please, Tac.”

I could see the data start to appear in my overlay, and I filed it away for later.

“Just promise me one thing, Seth. Don’t load this in unless you have Zoe on hand.”

“I promise.”

We spent the next hour and a half just chatting amongst ourselves, watching Crege at work. He was getting tired, I could tell, but he was too proud to admit it. Even so, he was performing admirably. Hergo and Denno had both reported in earlier that all decks were secured, and everything seemed to be in order. Vengnashi now blocked our screens, but we could make out the terminus at the upper edge of our optical feeds. Max had already called the ship to close up at stations, and everyone reported that they were strapped in. Crege’s count down was about to enter single digits, and Max felt it was time to make an announcement.

“We’ve come a long way, this trip. I know a lot of you are not used to travelling so far on a job, but this time we had no choice. It’s not often that someone gets the drop on me, and for that I’m sorry. We’re not being paid for this run, but I can promise you I’ll make it up to you guys. The good news is that after this sling shot we’ll only have another eight days before we hit the Eridani Jump Gate, and the Gossamer Jump Gate is only nine days out from there. Should be a straight run, no hazards. I mean who does runs to Gossamer these days, right?” She paused for a moment and thought hard. “The next few jobs are going to have to be tight. We’ll be behind on ship repayments, something that no Captain likes to admit, but there you have it. Hopefully, you’ll go easy on me and wait a few more jobs before I get you back for this one, but I will understand if you want off after this. I promise you’ll still be compensated once I get the capital.

“As we transit the Eridani System, I’ll be putting out requests for job tenders. Hopefully we can get ourselves employed as soon as we’re done in Gossamer. If you do intend to leave us after this trip, I ask that you let me know before we leave Eridani so that I can add a few notifications of intent to hire to the broadcasts. If anyone has any contacts they think might have jobs for us, I’d love to hear from you.

“Whatever happens in Gossamer, I want you all to know that I’m proud of you, you have all served the Dreaming of Atmosphere well, especially these last few weeks. No Captain could ask for a better crew. I love you all. Captain out.”

When she’d hung up the PA mic, she looked at me, her eyes were red rimmed. I smiled at her and tried to be supportive.

“We’re going to be okay, Max.”

“For once,” added Fel, “Seth is right.”

“This warrior is proud to serve with his kitrak!”

“You’re not going to cry, are you?” I joked. This earnt me a punch in the arm from Max. I also got a smile.

“It’s the air filters. I think they need cleaning.”

“Uh huh.”

We sat in silence for a few minutes.

“Prepare for burn!” barked Crege, “Inertial stabilisers at maximum. Deactivating Ion Drives. Switching to manoeuvring thrusters in 5…4…3…2…1…engaged!”

The whole ship was silent for almost a full second, then the loudest roar I’d ever heard rocked the command module. It sounded like one long continuous explosion, which in effect it was, and we were all thrown into our webbing. My neck was straining to remain upright, and my whole body was being pressed into my seat.

“Periapse achieved!” reported Crege in a strained voice.

Powered gravity assist manoeuvre initiated. Enjoy the view. Came Tac’s text on all our overlays.

I could make out the atmosphere of the planet above us as we skirted along just outside its reach. The Harakiwa star was just starting to appear over the terminus, and the light from the sun was colouring the upper exosphere a pale blue green. Another screen began to show our wake as we shed ions from out hull into the magnetic field surrounding the planet. We must have seemed like a comet, trailing an aurora effect. We’d be putting on quite a show for the news people in their ships. I was betting that we’d be visible from the planet’s surface as well.

After about fifteen minutes of thrust we reached the terminus line and sunlight bathed our ship in a golden hue. Ice was blasted back from us, and the twinkling sparkle of crystals could be seen drifting along behind us. The gee forces against us slowly began to increase, and in a few more minutes I heard Fel faint beside me.

“Fuel reserves at twenty three percent!” came Eric’s report from the central engineering space.

“Cut manoeuvring thrusters!” commanded Max.

“Burn disengaged! Activating ion drives!” called Crege. Almost instantly the ship’s violent shuddering stopped and the relentless pull of gravity reduced to a more bearable amount. Only the steady thrum of ion propulsion could be heard. A low moan escaped Fel’s mouth and I turned to see him compose himself. He was paler than normal and sweat glistened on his hairless head.

“You okay?” I asked.

He nodded and ran his hand over his face. “I’ll live.”

We were now firmly in the grasp of the planet’s gravity well, as it pulled us around it and shot us off into space once more. It wasn’t long before we left the planet Vengnashi behind us.

26.

The next eight days were rather uneventful. We stopped briefly at the Eridani Jump Station to refuel our manoeuvring thrusters, replenishing our reserves that we used during the sling shot, and we topped up on a few essential supplies. This time, Artemis only allowed Hergo and Denno ashore to do our shopping. I guess she was onto us after our unscheduled stop over at the Argessi Jump Station.

I practiced more of the paradigms I’d been given, and carefully studied the interactive documents that Tac had prepared for me. I learnt that the shroud matrix was a term coined to refer to the thin membrane of reality that holds our three dimensions in place. I received a crash course in string theory, and still it mostly well over my head. Fel assured me, though, that it was only important that my nano-proliferation implant received the data.

What I got out of it was that our universe is traditionally viewed as a three dimensional universe. We perceive the three dimensions, because we live in a three dimensional brane. A brane, as I knew it, was kind of like a membrane of reality. Our three dimensions exist in this membrane, which is actually embedded in up to ten dimensions. Tac explained that there were many other branes, with many other universes. These branes were like the three dimensions of a book filled with two dimensional pages, only this book has ten dimensions, instead of three, and the pages could be any number of dimensions at once. My mind was reeling trying to grasp the concept of more than three dimensions, but ten? That was just too much for my limited brain capacity to fathom.

The whole thing started to fall apart in my mind, especially when the way these branes were traversed, or joined. It all started to sound similar in concept to how a Jump Gate works. As soon as I’d mentioned this similarity, Tac congratulated me on coming to conclusion myself. It seemed to think I’d made progress, and I didn’t want to discourage it.

My head swam with complex mathematical equations and crazy notions of alternate dimensions when Maxine alerted the crew that we were approaching the Eridani Jump Gate. I left my cabin where I was studying and made my way forward to the command module. Fel and Maxine were in the middle of a discussion.

“Tac assures me that it’s perfectly fine, so long as he maintains a shield and doesn’t spend longer than an hour outside.”

“Okay, well I suppose if you think it’s necessary. He’s probably not going to like it though.”

“Who won’t like what?” I broke in, as I sat down at my station.

Fel turned back to his console, and Max turned to face me.

“Fel and Tac believe that it may be within your…educational interests to spend some time EV. Most notably during when we shift.”

I looked at her deadpan. “EV? When we go through the Jump Gate?”

Any residual Fiddich radiation will fade, so long as you limit your exposure time. Offered Tac.

Fiddich radiation, also known by the slang term heat, was a by-product of tearing giant holes in reality. In small doses it was harmless, but frequent trips through Jump Gates tended to build up large amounts. For example if a ship went through one direction, and then turned around and went right back again, they’d probably cause some damage to their ship and crew. It’s similar in effect to standard radiation, only it rarely causes permanent cellular damage.

“And what possible benefit would I gain by giving myself a dosage of heat?”

“Fel says that you can use your nanites to gather data about the transfer.”

Fel turned around and cleared his throat. “That is correct. They’ll see first-hand how the spatial translation works. You may even be able to load up the new paradigm afterwards.”

“How much of a dose will I get?”

You can confirm with Medical Officer Ward, but I believe no more than 47 fids if you return to the ship within one hour.

Zoe, can you check something for me? I texted Zoe, How many fids would I get dosed with if I went EV while we shifted through the Jump Gate?

Why on earth would you do that?

Fel and Tac think I should do it for science.

Oh! To scan, right? That’s a great idea!

Seriously? Of all the people who’d be against this, I thought you’d be number one when it came to backing me up.

Well, there are some health considerations, for sure. But think of the data you would gain!

So you don’t think this is a stupid idea?

No, it’s brilliant!

I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. “All right, I’ll go suit up.”

“I’ll patch you through to the command module. We’ll be with you the whole way.” Said Fel.

“You sure about this, Donny?” asked Maxine, a trace of concern on her features.

“Yeah, I think Zoe would punish me for not taking the opportunity, and Fel here will lecture me to no end if I take a pass.”

“Our brains are only capable of what they can conceive, and they can’t conceive what they haven’t experienced. A mind that is stretched by a new experience can never go back to its old dimensions.” Added Fel, ever the sagely advisor. His eyes were a deep purple, a shade similar to what he normally shows when he is investigating a new device or piece of technology. Good heavens, I thought, I’m his latest experiment.

I left the command module and returned to my cabin. My M4 MAEL was tucked away in my locker and I drew it out. There were still several black scorch marks from the last time I’d worn it. I laid out the various pieces and went to work using my Repair paradigm, converting the material from a solid block of metal alloy I’d collected from the engineering spaces that were used in hull repairs. My nanites used the material to weave into fresh laminates for the suit, and in a few minutes my suit was good as new.

As I was starting to put on my first few pieces, there was a knock at my cabin hatch. I called for them to come in, I could use some help getting suited up, I thought. Zoe came in, all excited. She was practically skipping.

“What kind of health considerations are we talking about? Tac says I should be okay if I take less than an hour.” I asked as she dropped what she was carrying and automatically started to help me dress. I’d trained her well.

“Technically, it’s correct. You should come down with no more than mild radiation poisoning.”

“Radiation poisoning? That doesn’t sound mind at all!”

“Oh, don’t be such a baby. This is coming from a man who regularly goes toe to toe with a Garz’a using real swords. You’ll get some skin irritations, a little nausea, something of a headache. Kind of like heat stroke.”

“And you’re okay with this?”

“As your medical officer, I’m a little against it. But as a scientist, the benefits in the long term far outweigh any temporary discomfort on your behalf.”

“You know, I can’t help but remember the last time I tried something foolish on behalf of science. You got cranky at me.”

“I got cranky because you didn’t get me first. You’re learning. Here I am.”

“Here you are,” I sighed, pulling the last of my suit on.

“Aren’t you in the least bit curious?” she asked

“Not enough to make myself sick. I just got out of the med lab a week ago.”

“So why are you going this, then?”

I paused what I was doing and thought about it. “I need to be at my best when we get to Gossamer. If I master this it will be one more tool at my disposal. It might make all the difference.”

“You keep pushing yourself. I’ve seen it with Crege and your sparing. The Viridian March, these nanites. You’re the first person to volunteer whenever Max needs something dangerous done.”

“It’s my job.” I said and made to leave the cabin, but Zoe grabbed my arm.

“You feel that you need to put yourself in these situations, because you never really left one. You’re still back in Gossamer, two years ago. I think you never left.”

I was silent for a while, just standing there thinking about it. “I wasn’t the only one who never left.” I exited the cabin, and made my way forward to the airlock. I grabbed a tether line from the inner chamber, and clipped it onto my suit. I sent Maxine a text telling her I was ready to go. I started to make sure the airlock was secured and that no loose tools or items were left sculling around. I was just closing up a utility locker when I noticed another suited figure climb through the inner airlock hatch with me. I looked up into the helmet and saw that it was Zoe. She gave me a smile and placed her helmet to mine.

“We’re going to do this together.” She said simply, and grabbed a tether line herself. When she was secure I checked her over, giving her a buddy check to make sure everything was in place. We took two personal shields out of a locker and attached them to our belts. After a few minutes, the PA system barked to life.

“All hands, prepare for jump.”

The inner airlock hatch closed and the air was pumped out of the airlock. In a few moments the outer ‘lock dialled open and we were greeted to the magnificent sight of the Jump Gate as we approached the event horizon. We flashed up our shields and left the airlock.

“Shifting in three…two…one…”

I reached out with my senses as we drifted out of the airlock hatch. Before us was the rippling mirror of the Jump Gate event horizon. We saw ourselves, hand in hand as traversed alongside the Dreaming of Atmosphere, distorted but clearly reflected in the quicksilver of reality. We passed through it, my nanites stretched out around us like a net. I wasn’t sure what to expect. Was it supposed to be like falling into a pool? Was it like drifting through a mist? Was I supposed to not feel anything at all?

I could hear Zoe draw in her breath as the sensation started, like being encased in a block of ice and a pool of magma at the same time. There was no pain, only a sensation of passing through two extremes. One moment we were in our reality, the next we were not. We’d stepped outside our normal reality and into a different dimension that was never meant for our meagre senses to perceive, let alone understand.

To my nanites, it was a completely different picture. They saw the whole experience as breaking through a plate of glass, only instead of shards of glass shattering everywhere it was millions of impossibly long strands of reality. They flailed about and were like a bundle of strings fluttering in a strong wind. First one, then another, and then more began to connect with something at their ends. We became the strings, moving through realities towards the other ends of the strings.

I gasped in understanding.

“What is it?” said Zoe, turning her helmet to look at me as we drifted through the strangely colour lights and shapes between dimensions. I could see the patterns reflected on her visor, and I could see me looking back at her.

“I can see where we are going!”

“What do you mean?”

“I can see the other side of the Jump Gate!”

“How is that possible?”

“My nanites are gone, they followed the strings and made it out before us, and they are showing me what happens at the other side…it’s…beautiful!”

She looked around us, at the ship flying along to our right.

“What do you see?”

“I can see the Dreaming of Atmosphere leaving the Jump Gate, my nanites are at the event horizon on the other side. I can sense…something…” I trailed off.

“Go on…” prompted Zoe.

I activated a communications channel back to the Dreaming.

“Captain, we need to leave the Jump ready for combat. They are going to try and ambush us as we leave.”

“Say again, Seth” came Maxine, “what are you talking about?”

“My nanites can see at the other end of the Jump, there’s another Corporate organo-ship waiting for us.”

“Come aboard, we need to discuss this, Captain out.”

I turned to Zoe. “I have what I need, my nanites got their data. Are you ready to leave?”

“Yeah, these lights are starting to give me a headache.”

We started to retract our tether lines, and when we were inside I closed the outer ‘lock. In minutes we had oxygen in the airlock and our helmets came off. As I started to unsuit, Zoe ran some instruments over us both. We’d only been outside for about twenty minutes, so we’d only gain a little heat. I feel like I was sunburnt, and I had a slight throbbing headache, but otherwise I felt fine. I could see Zoe had a bright red face and her eyes were bloodshot. She gave us both a tablet, to ease the Fiddish radiation sickness from us, and then we helped each other de-suit.

Maxine was waiting for us on the other side of the airlock, a questioning look on her features.

“Koveli-Xue will attack us as soon as we leave the Jump.”

27.

Maxine, Fel’negr, Crege, Artemis and I were in Max’s cabin, seated around her conference table. Max was finishing off a swearing tirade directed at Artemis, and no one wanted to get in the way. Eventually, she calmed down enough to speak plainly, though through clenched teeth.

“So you’re telling me that these Corporate bastards know that we’re taking something they want into Gossamer? That all along you’ve known they would try and stop us and you said nothing.”

“Close enough, a little paraphrasing but yes.” Artemis said.

“And you didn’t think to tell us about this the last time they shot us to pieces, and nearly killed you too, by the way. You didn’t think that when I asked you about it then, that you should have perhaps parted with some of this information?”

“The thought had crossed my mind.”

“We thought it was you they were after.” I offered.

“That is true, they do wish to detain me, probably torture me to give up what I know. But ultimately they want the package.”

“Why? What is it?” demanded Max.

“It’s a piece of technology stolen from the facilities at Votus Station.”

“What’s at Votus Station?” I asked. Fel answered for me.

“It’s a frequent stop over for Corporate organo-ships. It’s run by the Votus, and has all kinds of high tech research facilities there.”

“Koveli-Xue, in particular.” Explained Artemis.

“What’s this technology?”

“You don’t need to know that right now.”

“You bitch!” cried Max and stood up in a rush, drawing a blaster from her hip.

“Tsk, tsk.” Chided Artemis, “You can’t shoot me yet, you haven’t found and removed all the bombs yet.” She gave that wicked grin she was so fond of wearing.

“Maxine, we need clear heads to resolve this.” Said Fel. The stand-off lasted a few more tense seconds before Max swore again and sat. She pointed a finger at Artemis.

“We’ve played your silly game for weeks now. We’ve jumped through hoops for your little boss and now we need answers. I need to know how hard these Corporate punks are going to come at us, and if we’re better off just tossing you out the airlock and taking our chances with the bombs.”

“They’ll come at you hard, but they won’t risk destroying the ship. Not while they still believe the package is on board. But you get me to Ambrose Station, and I’ll tell you all about the package. On one condition.”

“And what’s that, you little bitch?”

“I need your boy wonder to come with me.”

Somehow, I always knew this was going to be the plan. Ever since Jenner told us where we were going, I always knew I’d be returning to the station, and in more than a simple courier role. I thought about the last month and a half, my training thus far, and the progress I’d made with my post-traumatic stress disorder. I was dimly aware of Max and Artemis in a screaming match, with Fel and Crege trying to shout them both down.

“I’ll do it.” I said, and suddenly everyone was quiet.

“You don’t have to, Donny.” Said Max, her face still red from yelling.

“I do.”

“It was never part of the job, we just had to deliver it, nothing more.”

“It was always implied in the job. You know it was.”

“It’s too risky. I won’t allow it.”

“Max, we need to do this. I need to do this.” She looked at me, concern and worry all over her face. Eventually she leaned back and looked defeated.

“Tell me about Korveli-Xue.” She said.

Artemis cleared her throat and began. “They are primarily based in the Caspellan Network, on the other side of the Votus II System. They’ve always been interested in Votus technology and have patented many designs that blend the two together. Their facility on Votus Station had a security flaw, one which was taken advantage of, and Jenner acquired the device shortly after.”

The Votus were one of the old races. Some say they are in decline, while others believe they are merely more patient in their schemes. They were an aquatic species, in their early stages of evolution, who left for the stars many thousands of years before humankind stopped hitting each other with sticks and rocks. They had discovered Jump Gate technology, but didn’t have to expansionist drive that saw humanity spread across the galaxy. They were first encountered several hundred years ago, when the first Jump Gates opened into the Network prior to the Votus-Eridani Network. The Galactic Protectorate negotiated their joining the Protectorate, and although they tend to remain aloof from galactic politics their technology ensures they will almost always have some kind of sway in how the Protectorate operates within their star systems.

In general, the Votus are considered one of the finest engineers in the galaxy. They have enabled worlds to be terraformed and colonised that prior to their introduction to the Protectorate would have been ignored as too extreme. One such world in the Eridani System, called Cataphract, is less than half an AU from the Eridani star. The Votus engineered a giant solar shield that allowed an atmosphere to form on the molten world, and even now there exists a thriving energy trade there. My grandfather, old Hieron Donovan, retired to a Votus world, a water covered world of artificial islands called Oceania. The islands are giant cities constructed in space and lowered to the surface.

I’d never really met a Votus before, but I’d seen a few in my travels. They’re patient, ponderous and rarely make bonds outside of their own race, but they remain one of the galaxies greatest engineers and technological wizards. Whatever Jenner stole from Koveli-Xue, if it was based on Votus technology it would certainly be something of vast potential.

“My overlay tells me they specialise in stellar research.” Said Fel.

“That’s correct, they have several processes to draw material out from stars, and they’ve also worked on gas giant mining. Deep gravity stuff. They were one of the first Corporations to pull diamonds out of gas giant surfaces.”

“So why are they trying to ambush us now? Why did they give us so easily in Argessi System?” asked Max.

“I’d say they’ve received more Intel. They may have found a witness on Corus Cluster who attested to seeing me get on the Dreaming. Maybe they finally tracked down the package some other way to the ship. If it’s any consolation, that Corporate man who let you get away, along with the Captain of the Spear of Orion have probably been severely punished for letting you get away. They may have even been executed.”

“The Corporations do that?” I asked, incredulously.

“Some do. They’re too powerful for the Protectorate to enforce their laws, as long as they regulate themselves somewhat and steer clear of the general populace the Corporations can do what they please.”

Crege snorted, “If they are caught breaking galactic law, Protectorate gives fines. Corporations pay it and move on. They are beyond dishonourable. Protectorate is no better.”

“Don’t be too harsh on the Protectorate, Crege,” said Fel, “They can’t do much, in the grand scheme of things, at least they can use the Credits to keep the peace or make reparations.”

“So what do we do about the ship waiting for us?” asked Max.

“Evasive moves, right after shift.” offered Crege.

“That should get us clear of any initial barrage. We won’t be going fast enough for a full flight.”

“Neither will they. They’ll use drones, for sure, maybe mercenaries and once they have a clear shot they’ll try their main weapons.” I said.

“What kind of weapons are we talking about?” asked Fel.

“Koveli-Xue organo-ships favour the Massilov Stone Burner railguns. Class 3 all the way to Class 4 weapon grades.” said Artemis.

“So direct fire only?”

“They’ll have to wait until we clear the Gate. They won’t risk hitting the ring.”

“Or sending rocks through the gate to Harakiwa.”

“So we’ll have to contend with the drones only?” asked Max.

“Direct fire, no problem for Dreaming, kitrak. She fly like yendag.” said Crege, proudly.

“How are our Interceptors?”

“We have four fully functional, but one more need repairs that we simply don’t have the parts for.” I read off my overlay.

Max swore. “I need options.”

I believe I can offer a suggestion, Captain Cooper.

“Go ahead, Tac.” she said.

I have several partially disabled synthetics under my control. If they are attached to the outer hull, I can direct any weapons they may use more effectively than a drone AI.

“What have we got in the armoury that can damage a drone?” she asked me.

“Three P291s. There’s an anti-tank rocket and a Goveli Arms Rotary Cannon.”

“An anti-tank rocket?” asked Artemis as she looked at me with a smile.

“Surplus from a previous job, long story.”

The P291s were heavy energy rifles, powerful guns but are heavy and a little too long for my liking. They’re great for defending a stationary location, or for covering the ship when it was resting on its landing pads. The Rotary Cannon was an impulse buy I got from Cortez’ Armoury after a big job last year. I’d never used it, and thought I never would. It needs a back mounted power pack to even use, but can lay down impressive suppression fire for extended periods. It looks badass, but I could never see myself carrying one into a fight. Too clichéd, I’d look like some stupid action movie hero or something.

These weapons should be sufficient to provide a point defence option when dealing with the drones, Captain.

“Okay, get Mal and Eric and get them suited up. One synthetic per EV trip and I want them taking three hour breaks before going back out. Have Zoe check them for poisoning each time they go out. Get Hergo and Denno to help them, probably pair them up with either Eric or Mal and have them take shifts. Fel, will the ship’s wireless reach them from outside the hull?”

“Probably, although I can build a signal amp into the synthetics’ chassis for good measure.”

“Get on it. Seth, head on down to engineering and fill in the boys down there.”

We stood up and shuffled off on our assignments.

28.

We only had just shy of three ship days to prepare ourselves for the shift back into normal reality. Maxine and Crege worked around the clock formulating evasive manoeuvres, while Fel’negr and Tac worked on the electronic warfare side of the coming fight. I was working in shifts with Mal, Eric, and the two Argen crewmen going EV to weld the synthetics to our outer hull.

Artemis, for once, helped out as well. I took her and Zoe through a damage control training session, and got them at least partially proficient working on hull breaches and using polycrete foam. Zoe, in turn, gave Artemis first aid training, although I could tell that Artemis already had a passing familiarity with basic aid. About what you would expect a soldier to have. This, along with her familiarity with small squad tactics and strategy, gave me even more to ponder on about her background.

The most of my time I spent running through drone simulations, practicing Interceptor formations and attack runs. We only had four left, and we had to make them count. When I did have free hours to spend I went down below decks to the cargo hold and practiced more on my nano-paradigms. Although my nanites had absorbed plenty of data regarding the Jump Gate shift, my own mind was still having a rough time trying to visualise how to get the Spatial Translation paradigm to work. The best I was able to achieve was to make myself dizzy and fall over a few times.

Max called us all into the cargo hold a few hours before we were due to shift, and gave us all the low down on the plan. She paced back and forth, her usual briefing posture. No one was on duty in the command module, since we were within a Jump still and there was no hazards that affect us.

“I know we’ve had a rough time of it already, first the pirate attack then the drones before we left Argessi. The Viridian March was also a little too hairy for my liking. We don’t normally do so much fighting on a job, even when we take a bounty. You can scratch this one up as par for the course. We all knew there’d be some fighting, one doesn’t fly into an exclusion zone full of hostile aliens without realising that. But this time we’re facing a very powerful enemy, one who we’ve already slipped the noose before and they’ll be looking to even the score. We cannot let that happen.” She paused to eye us all before continuing.

“We’ve done a great job getting ready for this fight, and that’s not always an advantage someone gets going into a battle like this.”

“How are we sure they’re waiting for us?” asked Mal.

“Seth’s nanites are affected by the shift a little differently than people or ships. They somehow flew through the Jump Gate ahead of us and saw the organo-ship waiting for us.”

“But how do we know they’ll attack us? Maybe they’re just waiting for a courier or something.”

“My nanites didn’t just go ahead of us,” I explained, “They appeared at the same time as we shifted back into reality. It’s hard to explain, but the nanites will be there when we come out, and they’ve already relayed the images back to me.”

I believe the phenomenon is related to signal propagation. Sent Tac. A concept used to describe why tachyon fields do not in-fact travel faster than light, but merely appear to.

“What in space’s name is that robot brain talking about?” sneered Mal.

“Consider a series of pendulums, dangling in suspension all resting against each other,” I began, “you lift a pendulum at one end and drop it. It strikes the next pendulum and sends a rippling wave through the others. The last one receives the momentum and then swings back into the others, sending the wave back to the first. The nanites reproduce at almost the speed of light, and they can work faster together to produce more, even when they’re only partially complete. In Jump Space, reality works a little different than in real space. The nanites exceed the speed a light, which is really just a concept that we bring into the brane with us from reality, and transcend the usual three dimensions that we’re bound by in our little pocket of existence.”

Fel turned to look at me in surprise.

“What? I’ve been studying!” I said, “The nanites extend themselves through one of the seven other possible dimensions, besides up / down, left right, forward backward. In this case it was time. Future / past.”

Mal’s face screwed up in disbelief, he was about to say something when Max held up her hand.

“Enough. The Intel is real. If it’s not, and we come out of the Jump Gate battle ready for nothing? Who care’s we just look like we’re paranoid.”

“But there’s….” began Mal again.

“Shut up, Cuts. We’re doing this.” Snapped Max, “First order of business will be to get clear of the Jump Gate. We don’t believe the Corporate ship will just blast us to bits as we come out, they want what we have. They may just try anyway, which is why we’re going to try to keep the Jump Gate directly behind us in relation to the enemy. Once we’ve built up some thrust we’ll try to get away as fast as we can. In the meantime, our greatest threat will be drones. They’ll try to disable us, they’ll probably try to board us. I want all crew armed and armoured, either with armour or personal shields. After we break from here you’ll all line up at the armoury and Seth will hand out the merchandise. Nobody responds to a boarding attempt alone, do I make myself clear?” She paused once more for effect.

“Tac will coordinate response teams, and point defences. Seth will be on drone control, but will relinquish control to Tac if he’s needed to repel boarders. Crege, Fel and me are on point in the command module, and Zoe will be on standby in Med lab with Artemis. Hergo, Denno, you’re in the mess hall with a damage control kit. Eric and Mal are in the central engineering space. Any questions?”

“What happens when we get clear of the Gate?” asked Eric, “Won’t the organo-ship just run us down? Those bastards are big and fast when they get underway.”

“We’re going to run around the Jump Station, hopefully get ourselves lost in the traffic there. At the very least we’ll stop the Corporates from just blasting us at range. We’ll buzz close to any Protectorate warships that will be there, give ourselves a head start into the system before the organo-ship gets underway.”

“They’ll still be able to gain on us eventually, we can’t out run it over long distance.”

“We won’t have to. The Gossamer Jump Gate is only point six of an AU from the Harakiwa Jump Gate. It’ll be close, but if we dump all our power reserves into the ion drive we should have the head start we need to get there before the Corporates can overtake us.”

“What’s the uncertainty percentage?” asked Eric.

Max hesitated a few moments before answering. “I won’t lie. It’s a big risk. Plenty can go wrong. What if we take damage to our propulsion, can’t get maximum thrust out of the drives? What if we need to slow down for repairs? What if the organo-ship has one of those new Pulsed Muon Drives? What if they have more ships between here and Gossamer?

“This is going to be one hell of a run. Make no mistake, we will be running hard for the Jump Gate.”

“What about if we toss Miss Sweetcakes here out the ‘lock and just hand over the package?” offered Mal.

“Are you forgetting the bombs?” said Max.

“No, maybe the Corporates will show some charity and offer some replacement parts?”

“Do you really believe that?”

“It’s better than the alternative. I ain’t willing to die for some piece of ass and a job.”

“Your preference is noted. The time to bail is long gone. You’re on this ride whether you like it or not.”

Mal started to grumble some more, but Eric slapped him on the back of the head, knocking his head forward.

“All right, people! Line up and get kitted out. We shift at 13:47 ship time. Close up at station in one hour and thirty minutes!”

I opened the armoury, and started going through the available weaponry. We had four shield generators and 3 armoured suits. Two of the armour pieces were simple infantry vests and padding, the last was a heavy duty exo-rig. The exo-rig was more for loading heavy cargo, but a few months ago I’d attached several armour plates to it. It seemed a little excessive after I’d finished but now I was glad for it. I gave out the infantry gear to the Argen, along with two Thudguns. The exo-rig I gave to Artemis. I knew she was good with a blade, and the added strength was going to work out in her favour. Zoe, Eric, Mal and Crege all got a shield generator. Fel’negr declined any protection, as did Maxine, saying that if things got so bad that they needed armour that pretty much meant they were all toast anyway. It was sound logic, even if it was a little discouraging.

I had one more rapid fire energy weapon, which I gave to Artemis. Her gyrojets were all gone after our gunfight on the Viridian March, and I knew she could handle the fire. Everyone else got energy pistols. I wore my usual M4 MAEL suit, my PX-2 and the E2S. I took a pair of party poppers, handed out spare batteries, swords to anyone who wanted one and well wishes. The armoury had never been so empty.

We had about forty minutes before we were due to close up at duty stations, and I found myself in Zoe and Artemis’ cabin. Thankfully Artemis was in the cargo hold practicing with her exo-rig. Zoe and I were sitting on her bunk, talking quietly to ourselves.

“I don’t know how you can be so calm,” said Zoe, “I’m scared out of my wits.”

I put an arm around her and gave her a hug. “I’m scared too.”

“You’re scared?”

“Of course! Who wouldn’t be?”

“You don’t just get used to the danger?”

“You do, but you don’t stop being scared. Fear is a great motivator, it can drive us to do things we couldn’t normally bring ourselves to do.”

“Like what?”

“Like killing another living being. Even in war, the reality of what you’re doing can paralyse you if you let it. Fear is one way to pull yourself out of that paralysis and act. Let your brain sort out all the darkness after the fact, use fear to survive first. Hate is another motivating emotion. So is love.”

“Have you ever been in love?” she looked up at me.

“A couple of times. First time didn’t end up so good. In hindsight I think it was more lust than love, but at the time I thought it was love.”

“And the second time?”

“So far, it’s been pretty good for me.” I smiled down at her. We kissed and held each other for a little while longer, then I left and headed for the bridge.

The command module was a flurry of activity when I arrived. Seems I wasn’t the only one who wanted to close up at station early. The rest of the command staff were already at their consoles, doing last minute checks. I sat down and started my own round of checks. Soon, Maxine called the crew to close up, and we were as ready as we were ever going to be for what was to come.

As the count down until we shifted ticked down we were silent. For once the command module was absent the usual banter.

29.

When a ship shifts, there’s an ever so subtle change that you can notice if you’re paying attention. I’ve heard it compared to entering and leaving a tunnel in vehicle, the slight change in sound and air pressures. It’s not quite the analogy that I’d use, but it’s better than nothing. The command module was silent as we waited for the countdown to finish, our only noise the steady thrum of the ion drives.

Then suddenly, reality shifted and we were leaving the Jump Gate. Crege yanked the controls and sent us into a wild cork screw that pushed us all into our seats and nearly twisted our heads off. Fel managed a small whimper and a gasp, but I could see him fighting the gee forces and stay conscious this time. I heard something in the command deck crash to the deck and start sliding around, a tool or something left sculling around. A warning flashed yellow on our consoles, alerting us to the inertia exceeding stabiliser limits. A loud shrieking war cry burst forth from Crege’s beak and the ship rocketed out into reality.

“Seventeen contacts, dead ahead!” cried Fel between clenched teeth. “Enemy weapons release detected!”

“All crew! Brace for impact!” called Max of the PA.

“Drone controls online! Link up established!” I reported

“Launch!” I activated the drone release command and my console lit up with the data from my four Interceptors. I had feeds from the drones appear in my overlay as well.

“Interceptors away! Engaging first enemy contacts!” I spun the drones into a twirling formation and dove them into a cluster of enemy drones.

“Negative weapons impact!” called Fel, gasping for breath.

“Crege! Head red two two, north nine, give me full thrusters for seven seconds!”

“Aye aye, kitrak!” For a brief period our necks stopped trying to twist our heads off and instead we were pushed hard back in our seats. I could hear Fel fighting to catch his breath.

“Evasive manoeuvres!” called Max, and the head twisting began again.

“Captain, I’m reading 3 signatures that are not drones. Repeat, 3 contacts are not drones.” reported Fel.

“Can you get a trace on their vectors? Show me!” Max started checking the data that Fel fed her console.

Captain, I am detecting a military grade sensor barrage emission originating from the organo-ship 3724 kilometres starward from the Jump Station. Tac was monitoring the electronic warfare bands.

“Switch to optical targeting! Seth, enemy contact designated Charlie 2 is on intercept, high g thrust. Take it out with the beamer!” commanded Max.

I was still trying to break apart the first wave of drones, I’d taken out three but I could see there was at least nine remaining. The enemy drones were trying to evade my four interceptors, and were doing a good job of it, but it also meant they couldn’t get a good firing run on our ship. It wasn’t going to last, the dogfight was taking the swarm back around towards the ship’s trajectory and I knew they’d get a few runs in then. I activated the beamer’s target acquisition AI, and true to Tac’s words the sensors were all scrambled. I switched it to optics only, and ordered it to track the incoming enemy ship.

“Target acquired! Tracking!”

“Enemy weapons release detected!” called Fel.

The ship was knocked sideways by a loud thud and our lighting flickered a few times. I could smell burning insulation.

“Shields down! Concussion hit upper portside command deck. No breach detected!”

“Damage control teams to Deck 1! Check for damage and report!” called Max.

“That was a missile from one of those ships coming at us.” Crege called.

“I still don’t see that last contact when we came out!” said Max, “Fel? Where is it?”

“Unsure, Captain! I registered 12 drones, 3 enemy ships and the last contact disappeared before I could get a trace on it. It’s gone dark.”

“Beamer within range!” I called, “Firing!”

The shriek of the beamer filled the command module, and this time I was able to see the result on the optics.

“Hit enemy contact, target assessed disabled!”

“Enemy drones’ weapons released!”

Several bangs and pops reverberated through the ship as the enemy drones completed a firing run on us. I’d managed to get another drone with my interceptors, but not before they got off their shots. I could see the damage on the drone feed, the starboard nacelle had taken some damage, but it only looked superficial. The aft cargo hold was venting atmosphere, though.

“Hull breach detected! Aft cargo hold!” called Fel

“Eric! Close off the aft hold!” called Max down the PA to the engineering spaces.

“Aye aye, Captain!” came the reply.

Once the enemy drones finished their attack run, they doubled around and counter attacked the interceptors. I barely managed to peel them off the attack before they were hit. One was destroyed almost instantly, and another took a hit but still appeared functional. I tore them around and down the port side of the ship, coming around underneath and hitting the drone swarm again. The swarm had gotten nice and close to us, and was using the ship as cover against our interceptors. It was a clever strategy, and I could tell the controllers on the Corporate ship were professionals. It may have been our undoing, if it wasn’t exactly what we were counting on.

“Tac! Now!”

Engaging Operation Awkward. Reported Tac.

The jury rigged point defences on the outer hull activated, and the synthetics began to target and shoot at the swarm of drones surrounding us. They were caught completely off guard. In seconds three were destroyed, my interceptors hit another and sent it tumbling out of control. The rest broke off their attack and tried to evade our fire. Only one of the managed to get clear of point defence weapons. I chased it down with my last three interceptors and shot it to pieces.

“Enemy drone signatures activated!” called Fel, “Origin is Charlie 2 contact. Count reads ten more drones. Charlie 1 on intercept vector, in range in three minutes!”

“Crege! Head green three five, south twenty five degrees! Full burn!”

The ship swerved and dived, and we were thrown heavily into our seats again. The enemy drones smashed into my three interceptors, taking them all our in seconds, but not before three of theirs were destroyed as well.

“Weapons release detected!” called Fel.

“From where?” asked Max.

“Charlie 1. Unknown weapon signature.”

“They can’t be in range!”

Point defences firing, Captain. Incoming missile.

“What kind of missile?”

Optical imaging matches profile of Graviton Interdictor.

“Grav missiles!” explained Fel. “If that hits we’ll slow right down!”

“Crege! Evasive manoeuvres!”

Crege threw us into an inverted dive that turned into a corkscrewing twirl and veered back upwards. It was too much for poor Fel.

“Fel’s out!” I called as I saw him slump in his seat and give over to the inertia.

“He’ll be fine! I got his data streams!” called Max.

Highlighting target profiles, Captain.

“Thanks, Tac! What’s the status of that missile?”

Pilot Crege has outrun the missile for now, but I believe it will enter into a new boost cycle once it had recharged.

“I can hit it with the beamer. It’s slow enough!” I called.

“Do it!”

“Tracking! Firing!”

Missile destroyed.

“The drones have caught up with us!”

Enemy drone weapon release detected.

Even I have my limits, when it comes to gee forces, and I blacked out temporarily. When I came to, there was smoke wafting into the command module from underneath one of the consoles and Max was calling for Hergo and Denno to tend to a hull breach on Deck 2. Fel was stirring at the same time.

“Arg, I’m up.” I said. Max glanced at me quickly and went back to her work.

“Tac got three more drones, but they shot us pretty good. Beamer is offline. Mess deck is a mess. Command module took a hit too, I just got some polycrete foam on that crack up there.” She pointed above my head, and squinted in the poor lighting and saw a seam about forty centimetres long filled with hardened foam.

“I think my console’s burning.” I mumbled and took a peek.

“Power overload. Should be ok.”

“Crege has defeated the bezak calak!” Crege declared from his seat.

“We’ve out run them, for now. The drones peeled away and we pulled out of the fight.” Explained Max.

“Tac, can you display a playback of the attacks made by the enemy on my console?”

Certainly, First Mate Seth.

My console display started to show the events that just occurred, but much faster.

“What is it?” asked Max.

“That dark ship, I think they’re….”

“Contact! Red zero five! It’s the last ship!”

“Crege!”

“Evading, kitrak!”

But it was too late. I’d seen this kind of manoeuvre before, you swarm an enemy from almost all sides and force them to flee in a certain direction, and there you lay your trap. In the military, it’s usually mines. When you’re a bounty hunter, though, you use a Grappler.

“Enemy weapons fire detected!”

“All hands, brace for impact!” called Max over the PA again.

Several loud bangs thudded against the hull. The ship began to shudder and moan, as if it was suddenly pulling a great weight. Which it was.

“It’s a Light Corsair! Grapplers have attached!” called Fel.

Grappler’s were extremely long, very strong magnetically tipped cables fired by the enemy, a Light Corsair raider ship. These were essentially fast, lightweight troop transports. They didn’t catch you and drag you to a halt, they instead pulled themselves to their captured ship and board it.

“Crew! Prepare for boarding! Crege, go with Seth! I’ll keep us accelerating as much as we can without burning any more thrusters.” commanded Maxine.

I leaped out of my seat and opened the command module hatch. Smoke was filling the passageway ahead, and I could see the damaged deck head above dangling with live cables and flickering lights. The occasional spark flew out of the wreckage. I could hear a faint whistling from somewhere above us. I reported the hull breach to Max and Fel grabbed a polycrete foam canister.

“Go! I’ll get it!” he waved us away, “Good luck, my friends!”

Art, Zoe! Meet us in the cafeteria. I sent out texts to the women.

Are we being boarded again? Came Zoe’s text.

We met them as they came out of med lab and joined up with them. I sent a text to Hergo, Denno and the two engineers and told them to guard the engineering spaces.

“If the fighting reaches us, Zoe, keep your head down. You’re on medic duty. If we’re hit try to get to us and drag us clear of fire before treating. Only shoot if you’re in immediate danger, okay?”

“Okay, won’t I be better off shooting at them with you?”

“Not really, you’ll probably just make yourself a target. Keep your head down.”

“Are they more synthetics?” she asked.

“I don’t think so, they’d have just used boarding pods on us if they were. I think we’re going to have mercenaries on us.”

“Or worse,” offered Artemis, “Bounty hunters.”

“My father was a bounty hunter.”

“I won’t hold it against you, loverboy.”

Just then a loud clang sounded towards the rear of the ship.

“They’re attached!” came Max over the PA, “Aft cargo hold!”

Eric! Stay in engineering, if they get through us, they’ll head straight for there!

Aye, aye, Seth!

“Let’s go! On me!” I called and made for a run down the ladder well to the forward cargo hold and Deck 3. We don’t often go into the aft hold, it’s larger than the forward hold, and full of supplies and spare parts. When we do cargo runs we move everything to the forward hold and fill the aft with commodities, but we haven’t tried trading much for the last year or so. Courier jobs were too lucrative to wait around for the right prices.

We went to the rear of the forward hold and up to the hatch that led to the aft hold. The lock was intact, so they hadn’t gotten to the hatch yet. Good news, we were fast reacting to the boarding attempt. We might still have a chance. I hit the hatch release and peeked around to look inside. It was dark, and I could hear atmosphere escaping. It wasn’t a fast leak, though, just a few holes by the sound of it.

Tac, can you measure the rate of venting atmosphere? How long until we’d need breathing apparatus in here?

The Life Support system is able to produce enough O2 to countermand the venting to a degree. If the forward hatch is closed it will take approximately 22 minutes and 42 seconds before oxygen content drops to dangerous levels.

“We’re going in, close the hatch behind us. Put up a twenty minute counter on your overlays. Get out of here once it runs out or you’ll suffocate.” I ordered.

“Done.” reported Artemis, the others said the same a moment later.

I activated my Tactical App, and my vision was filled with an augmented reality display of the aft cargo hold. The cameras in here had low light features, and I could see the hold clearly as if in a deep twilight. The others switched on small pen lights, while Art turned on a light on her gun. The cargo hold is big, the aft hold being the largest at just under seventy metres in length and almost twenty five metres wide. It was situated directly below the central engineering space, which sat to the aft of Deck 2. There were about a dozen cargo containers loaded into the hold, and there was plenty of smaller crates piled here and there. Now that I was in here and thinking about cover, I could see that it was kind of haphazardly stacked, and resolved myself to having a chat with Hergo and Denno about re-organising the cargo if we survived.

“Art, Zoe, stay here and guard this hatch. Crege, you and me are going hunting.”

“With pleasure, human!” he squawked.

We strode in between the cargo and it wasn’t long before we could see the lights of the enemy’s guns sweeping the hold for us. I crouched behind a crate and watched them for a few moments. They were working in three man teams, moving from cover to cover and checking corners. There appeared to be about a dozen, four teams moving about. I could hear more noises from the rear of the hold though, so there was bound to be more.

Frikk! Texted Crege.

You’re right. This is going to be tough. Two on twelve. More further back.

I’ll go easy on them then.

No, you crazy bastard! Frikk are strong fighters, we do this smart!

Remember the Iloz job?

How can I forget?

Same plan.

I thought for a moment, remembering what he meant and agreed. I knocked on the crate I was behind three times, then ducked down behind it drawing my combat knife from its sheathe. The nearest trio swung their lights in my direction, and said something in their harsh language. They moved to the next nearest cover, still covering my position. When they were nearly upon me, I heard a faint triple knock coming from Crege’s position. They turned as one and shined their torches towards the sound, I sprang out from my position and grabbed the nearest one, diving into cover with him as I drove my knife into his ribs and into his heart. The remaining two spun on their heels and were about to let loose a barrage of gun fire, except Crege used the distraction to leap across at them and sliced his blade across the backs of their legs. They screamed and fell, and were quickly dispatched by Crege’s lurzak. We ran forward to new cover as one of the other teams ran over to investigate.

One of them saw us dashing off and fired off a three round burst that hit Crege’s shield and the cargo container beside him. We split up and doubled back around aft. When we were behind their cover, we silently ran up behind them and stabbed and slashed them. They screamed and fired off a few shots in their death throes, and we dived for cover as the remaining six converged on our location. It was time for a fire fight.

The Frikk had better guns than we had, plus they had shields as well. They were using the same energy carbines that most mercs prefer, along with a few Thudguns. They used the Thudguns to great advantage, and it wasn’t longs before we were both forced to retreat. We were getting pinned and finding it hard to get clear shots. Already several hits had clipped my armour.

Art! We need reinforcement! I sent an image of my location in the cargo hold to her overlay. I then tossed a party popper stun grenade behind the nearest cover that held mercs. It went off with a loud bang and a bright flash, sending a merc toppling over outside his cover. I finished him off with a three round burst from my E2S. I could see another merc writhing on the ground, but he was in cover too far to get off an effective shot. A couple of rounds smacked into my shoulder pad, sending me spinning away. It stung, but my armour took most of the damage. I quickly scrambled back to cover. Crege was pinned behind a small crate, which the Frikk were currently firing several rounds a second into.

I suddenly saw the bright flash of a shield overload on the far side of the section we were fighting in, and then three Frikk fell back in our direction. I saw Artemis advancing on them while swinging her blade fiercely, her strength amplified by the powered exo-rig she wore. One blow cut clean through a gun held up in defence and sliced the Frikk’s chest open in a gushing wound. Another stroke decapitated a second mercenary. The third managed to snap off several shots into Art’s armoured rig before he dove over the cover away from her. I popped up and let loose a barrage of fire at him. He realised too late that he’d exposed himself to our fire and cut down before he could find better cover.

“Crege! Melee!” I called, tossing another party popper into the enemy. He watch me throw it, and we counted to three and leapt clear of our cover as the grenade went off. I drew my sword as I vaulted my cover, yelling, only to catch a Thudgun blast that sent me flying backwards into a cargo container. The flash of my stun grenade left blotches on my vision, or was that because my head just got rattled?

I stood up quickly, and realised I was exposed as the Frikk who’d just shot me was lining up for another blast that would turn me to paste again the cargo container. I’m too far away, I thought as I made to dive toward him. There was no way I’d make it on time, he had me dead to rights. We were both rather surprised when I was suddenly in front of him, my sword sticking out of his chest up to the hilt. Then a wave of air rushed from behind me. I felt disoriented, and was almost shot again. I recovered as soon as I saw another Frikk point his gun in my direction, and I pointed by blade at him and activated my Ionise paradigm. Lightning arced from my blade tip and lanced down his weapon. The shock threw the gun from his hands and he fell backwards from it in pain. Artemis stomped down on his head with her heavy boots, and a sickening crunch ended the brief shout of pain from the doomed mercenary.

Two more mercs moved to engage me with their own blades, heavy axes that looked like they belonged in a medieval movie. The came at together, forcing me to back pedal from their heavy strokes. I tried to dart in but they were larger than me, and had better reach. I was penned in on one side by a container, and the first Frikk I had killed in the melee was at my feet. I almost tripped on the body. The Frikk saw me unbalanced and lunged. I tried to twist away from it and suddenly I was standing behind them, facing their backs. I stabbed one in the neck without a second thought, and I began to see what was happening. I was using the Spatial Translation paradigm!

As the second Frikk turned around in confusion, a quickly leaped through him, and teleported behind him again. I sliced his back leg and he buckled, as he went down I stabbed him in the chest. I was grabbed from behind as another Frikk tried to hold me in a bear hug. He lifted me off the ground and was about to start shaking me when I concentrated and electrified his with Ionise. I also got myself at the same time. I lay there writhing for a few moments before I realise Art was standing over me, she’d already killed the last Frikk.

I looked over at Crege, he was panting and leaning over a crate. I could see blood dripping from a wound on his leg. Artemis offer me a hand, and lifted me to my feet.

“You okay, Crege?” I asked.

“Crege is okay. Flesh wound, as you human would say.” I could see he was in pain, though.

“Zoe! Crege’s hurt, we need you!”

I’m coming! She texted.

We fell back into better cover and waited until Zoe had reached us. She went to work on Crege immediately, and I could see he was relieved. The wound must have been bad if Crege was worried about it. Zoe looked up at me as she worked.

“What about you?” she asked.

“I’m fine. My ears are ringing still. Got hit with a Thudgun pretty good.”

Crege managed a pain filled chuckle. “You flew like yendag! Land like bezak.”

“I’m fine, if anyone was asking.” said Art, “this exo-rig is amazing!”

“No one was asking, and you look ridiculous in that thing.” said Zoe.

I checked my nano charge, and found that I was in the lower yellow section of the bar. Not too bad. My ribs felt bruised though, and I’d taken a few shots on different parts of my armour that I hadn’t noticed, they were sore now that I could take stock of my condition. I counted the bodies around us.

“That’s twelve Frikk here, plus the three further down.” I said.

“There’s two more between those containers.” said Artemis.

“Seventeen Frikk. Not bad for three of us.”

“We had the home ground advantage, human.” said Crege, his face was placid now that painkillers were starting to work on him. “We will not have that advantage at Ambrose Station. You fight with shirtan, friend, but do not let that go to your head.”

I nodded and gave him a salute with my gore encrusted blade. He nodded back as the Light Corsair ship broke away from the aft hold and let the Dreaming go.

30.

As soon as the Light Corsair was disconnected from the Dreaming, the ship began to shudder and we were almost thrown off our feet. Crege groaned in pain and Zoe fought to hold him still. I slid over to them and helped as best I could.

“What’s happening?” asked Zoe.

“We’re under thrust. Maxine must be using the manoeuvring thrusters to break away from those mercs. I need to get back up to the command module. Art will help you move Crege. Do you need anything?

“No, get going. I’m good here. Art, we need to move him to the med lab.” I gave her a quick kiss on the top of her head and squeezed her shoulder, and left at a stumbling run. I used the cargo to stabilise myself against the gee forces as I made for the forward hatch. Soon I was in the forward cargo hold and dashing up the ladder well to Deck 2, and then the command deck. The slow hiss of escaping air had stopped by the time I got there, and I opened the hatch to the command module. Max was at the helm, barking commands at Fel who was furiously punching buttons as his hands flew across his console. I threw myself into my seat, only to have Max yell at me to get into hers.

“I need you to give us the big picture. You’re in the hot seat until we get out of here!”

“Aye, aye, Captain!” I said as I jumped over to her console.

“You’re Captain, for now. Start giving me directions!”

I scanned her console, and although I was partially familiar with her layout I was having a hard time trying to process everything that I was seeing.

“Ah…” I stammered.

“Seth!”

“Give me a second!”

Captain Donovan, if I may? Said Tac.

“Yeah, I need help Tac!”

Your nanites can interface with the console. I am forwarding you a protocol program that will assist in the process.

I couldn’t help thinking about Captain De Lacy of the Sardonis Mist, the dead Protectorate Fleet commander who interfaced with his ship in a battle. I received Tac’s program and loaded it into my overlay. With a minor force of will I surged my nanites into the console before me. It was a lot like the Scan paradigm, only it lasted longer. In moments the sensors that fed the data to Max’s console was feeding directly into my brain. With a gasp, I realised that I was the Dreaming. What helped was the fact that I couldn’t use all of her sensors, since most were being jammed by the organo-ship, but I could access enough to be able to feel the ship and its position in space. I almost broke my connection in shock when I opened my eyes and saw the black, organic roots that snaked their way from my outstretched hands and into the console before me.

“Anytime, now Seth, where are they?”

“Head green three zero, south fifteen degrees. In four seconds spin clockwise at ninety degrees per second and turn red ten degrees. “

Max followed my commands, as a trio of energy beams lanced out and missed us by metres.

“Fel! Switch to passive sensors only! Max, I’m tagging a contact on your display, head towards that at maximum thrust for fifteen seconds on my mark…mark!”

We were pushed hard into our seats, although I felt disembodied and barely felt it. As fifteen seconds counted by I ‘looked’ around the Dreaming. The other ships were falling behind, but we were heading more or less closer to the organo-ship each second. We were also getting closer to the Jump Station and several Protectorate Fleet warships.

“Max, take us directly towards the organo-ship!”

“We’re clear of the Jump Gate, Seth! They’ll use their rail guns on us for sure!”

“I’m counting on it! Fel, open a channel on the frequency I’m sending you now.”

“Done!”

I spoke on the communications channel Fel just opened, although I didn’t speak with my flesh and blood voice. “Mayday! Mayday! We’re under attack by mercenaries! Repeat, we are under attack! Request immediate assistance!”

An authoritarian sounding voice responded over the channel. “Identify yourself! This is a secured military channel for official communications only!”

“This is the unaffiliated Meridian Class Transport Dreaming of Atmosphere. I am Corporal Donovan, Primacy Star Marine Corp, retired. A Corporate merc hit squad just attacked us as we exited the Jump Gate. Please assist!”

There was a pause on the line. Most Protectorate Fleet officers were hesitant to get involved in Corporate affairs, unless they clearly exhibited aggressive behaviour that put innocents at risk. As if the Corporate organo-ship was playing to my script, I saw several bright flashes on the black leviathan.

“Weapons release detected! It’s the organo-ship!”

The radio channel was suddenly filled with expletives from the other end. I told Max to perform another corkscrew manoeuvre, tracing a holographic image of the deadly projectile’s path for her to evade.

“Blade of Xerxes! This is the Galactic Protectorate Fleet Warship Paladin, cease fire immediately! You are in violation of the Votus-Eridani Galactic Treaty.”

“Paladin, this is Blade of Xerxes. We are exercising our right of ownership over stolen property in the possession of the crew of that ship. We have every right to fire upon the vessel.”

“Negative, Blade of Xerxes! You have a right to attempt a boarding, firing a Class 3 weapon is prohibited under the Treaty guidelines. If you wish to exercise your right of ownership you may not fire that weapon upon that vessel while within point zero two AU of any Protectorate facilities, you may only detain it. Dreaming of Atmosphere, if you comply with the Xerxes’ boarding request you must stand down immediately.”

“And if we do not comply?”

“We cannot intervene on your behalf if they only choose to detain you. If you position yourself at the following coordinates, the Paladin and the Hammer of Eridani will be between you and the Blade of Xerxes. They will have no choice but to attempt to board you.”

“Thank you, Paladin! Heading to coordinates now!”

“What the hell just happened?” barked Max as she steered the ship towards the coordinates I fed to her pilot’s console.

“The Paladin just showed us where we can exit this area from so that the Xerxes can’t shoot at us. We’ll be able to gain thrust from that vector, and the Xerxes will have to go around the station and the two warships before they can start accelerating towards us. Should buy us a few days at most.”

It was Fel’s turn to be sceptical. “But that officer said that we’ll have to comply with the Xerxes’ boarding. Won’t we be breaking some law by refusing to?”

“No, the Paladin only said we must stand down if we choose to comply. He never said we had to comply.”

“I don’t understand.” said Max.

“When you’ve been in the military for a certain amount of time, you learn to know when you’ve been given an order, or a suggestion. You don’t have to follow a suggestion. That officer knows that if Koveli-Xue wants to bring the intervention to the galactic courts, a play back of the communication will only reveal that he suggested we comply. He in no way ordered us to comply.”

The command module was silent for a few moments.

“So you weren’t just a dumb ground pounder then?” asked Max over her shoulder.

“No, I was also a dumb ground pounder.”

Fel chuckled at that. “It’s a great act of cunning to conceal ones cunning, for the bold are helpless without it.”

The Dreaming was soon in position, and with the Paladin and the Hammer of Eridani between us and the Koveli-Xue ship we were free to head off into the system without having to dodge hypervelocity shells thrown at us by the Blade of Xerxes. At least not for a while anyway. I slumped back in my seat as I pulled out of the fugue that my connection with the Dreaming had put me in. I was half aware of the black vines withering and dissolving before me.

With the immediate danger passed, Maxine told us to go clean up and rest. We needed to keep someone on the controls at all times, in case the Blade of Xerxes got clear and took shots at us, and Max wanted at least two of us closed up at any one time. Looks like it was to be double shifts for the rest of the journey.

Before Fel and I left the command module, we agreed to meet up for a navigation brief in one hour. In the meantime, Maxine would man the pilot’s wheel for now. We left the bridge and I started towards my cabin, but Fel grabbed my arm as I walked past him.

“You did well, Seth. You would have made your father proud today.”

“Thanks, Fel. I’m going to shower and then check on Crege. He was hurt pretty bad down there.”

“Tac mentioned you were able to use Spatial Translation.”

“Yeah. It was so sudden, I almost didn’t know what I’d done. It saved my life”

“I’d be fascinated to hear all about it, when you get the chance. How’s your charge levels?”

“Pretty low, but I’m okay. Using a paradigm is much better than just winging it. Much more efficient.”

He smiled at me and headed down the ladder well towards his cabin. I went to my cabin and stripped out of my armour. It would need repairs again. I ran a hot shower and let the heat work its way into my aching muscles and the many bruises and burn marks from the shots I took. I checked my charge again and realised I had enough juice left to try a Repair paradigm. I reached out with my nanites and let them go to work on my worse injuries. In minutes my ribs were still sore, but it didn’t hurt to breathe at least. It was better than nothing, and I didn’t want to risk any more charge. I must have fallen asleep in the shower, because next thing I knew I was being pulled out of the stall by two small hands and towelled dry. Zoe just about carried me to my bunk and we lay there for a few hours in a deep slumber.

As usual, my dreams were filled by the dark sea of data. This time, I was a bird of nanites soaring over the water. My wing tips touched the surface with each beat, sending motes of knowledge into the air. My reverie was tainted by a sense of foreboding that was just beyond my senses, like a dark cloud gathering beyond the horizon. Somehow, I knew that the darkness that I could sense was the Gossamer System, and I was flying towards the storm.

I awoke some time later, Zoe deeply asleep in the crook of my arm. Her dark hair played out over my chest and shoulder. I could see her face from my angle, and I could see she was in the grip of a dream. Her face, so pretty, so innocent, was torn between fear and worry. Her brow knotted in concern. Her breathing came in quick breaths, and a slight whimper escaped her lips. I stroked her face gently, pushing the hair away from her ear and kissed her lightly. Her breathing slowed and her face became peaceful.

Was I the cause of her night terrors? Were the things I drew her into causing her distress and fear? Did I have a right to ask her to be a part of this life, if it meant she could not live a life full of colour and happiness? Was I asking too much of her, unburdening my own pain and suffering on such a young and beautiful person?

I became aware of her being awake, her eyes open and looking into mine. We looked at each other for a long while, not saying anything. I could see she was also thinking deeply, but I could not tell what it was she was contemplating.

“I have no right to push this life on you. I’m truly sorry for making you a part of this.” I said.

“I feel safe in your arms. When you’re out there, being you, I’m not afraid anymore.”

“I saw you having nightmares just now.”

She smiled at me. “I was dreaming about you running away from me. You left me behind and I couldn’t find you again.”

“You weren’t reliving that fight in the hold?”

“No, I knew you’d protect us.”

“How could you know?”

“I just did.”

”I’m not invincible. I can be hurt just like Crege, or killed just like my father.”

“You didn’t even mention your squad.”

I thought about that, and realised that I hadn’t even thought about them, as I often did right after I’d survived a fight or other dangerous event. I smiled back at her, then kissed her.

“You’re right. I think I’m ready to return. Thank you.”

“You did all the hard work, I just pointed you in the right direction.”

“You did more than that. You broke down my mental armour. I feel alive again. But I’m also worried about you. What effect this life has on you?”

“I’ll admit, it wasn’t what I expected when I first started out. A year out in space, travelling the Argessi System. Pick up some field experience maybe. I never thought I’d be in the middle of a daring adventure into a hostile exclusion zone, on the run from a Corporation in a ship filled with bombs. I never thought I’d be patching people up from battle injuries or doing damage control on hull breaches, or fighting off alien boarders. I never thought I’d fall in love, either.”

“You do love me?”

“I do.”

We kissed, but our deep and meaningful was interrupted by a thought that popped into my head.

“Ah, shit. I was supposed to attend a navigation discussion with Max an hour after we left the Jump Station. Max is going to be pissed.”

“Forget about it. I told her you were too low on charge and needed at least six hours rest.”

I smiled at her. “Six hours? How long was I asleep?”

“Nearly five.”

“So I have an hour to spare?”

“You do.”

“What can we do in an hour?” I said grinning at her. My hands started to move about her body, almost with a mind of their own. She started to giggle and we soon made full use of that hour.

31.

By the time my doctor recommended ‘rest period’ ran out, I was knocking on Maxine’s cabin hatch. There was no answer so I checked the command module and found Hergo and Mal on watch there.

“Hey Hergo, know where the Captain is?” I asked, leaning in.

“I’m Denno, Hergo is down in the aft cargo hold doing repairs with Eric.”

“Sorry, the Captain?”

“Probably with them.”

“Thanks.”

“Hey, Seth!” called Mal, “You know that Hergo has lighter scales, right? And Denno is at least four centimetres taller?”

“He was sitting down and the light is crap in here, so get off my case, Cuts.”

“And you know Denno is female, right?”

I did a double take. “What?”

They both broke out in laughter, and I couldn’t help myself, I went bright red.

“Have you ever seen a female Argen?” asked Denno, between hissing laughter.

“To be honest, no. I mean sure, I guess, they wear masks all the time don’t they?”

“They do. Their scales are softer but they have bigger claws than us men.”

“Okay, I’ll keep that in mind. Gotta run.”

I left the command module as fast as I could, but I could still hear the pair laughing at me as I ran down the passageway and down the ladder well to Deck 2. I headed down again and headed aft towards the rear cargo hold. The big compartment was still dark, but I could make out work lights illuminating a section towards the rear. I made my way through the containers and crates and came upon Hergo sealing off a section of deck plating with a large sheet of metal. There were several similar patches about the area, the remains of hasty repairs to the compartment. I could see bulges of excess polycrete foam coming out of the sides of a few.

“Hey, Hergo, have you seen Maxine?”

“I’m Denno, Seth. Hergo is on watch with Mal.”

“But I…what?”

“Hergo is shorter than me, I have darker scales.”

“He just…I was just in the command module. They said you were Hergo.”

“Hergo is a practical joker. I humbly apologise for my kinsman’s jest at your inability to identify us.”

“No. It’s me who should apologise. I’m really bad at telling you two apart. I always feel bad about it when I get it wrong, and especially since all we’ve been through lately I think I need to really address it. I hope I haven’t offended you or Hergo.”

“No apology necessary, First Mate. You have placed yourself in great peril for our protection and wellbeing on many occasions. In Argen culture, when one does such a thing without thought for reward or personal gain the benefited Argen owes a debt to their protector. Hergo and I owe much to the Captain and yourself.”

“I never really knew much about your culture, I’m sorry. I haven’t spent much time with many of your species before. Always on the move, and all that. We never really talked much, you and I. We should change that.”

“I would be honoured to carry a conversation with you, at a later date, First Mate. There are many repairs requiring our attention. I believe the Captain is with Eric in the engineering compartment.”

“Thanks, Denno. I’ll hold you to that promise, a later date then.”

The lizard man bent over his welding once more after sliding a pair of goggles over his face. I went back up to Deck 2 and made my way aft past the med lab and the aft cabin spaces. Eventually I ended up at the central engineering space, what Eric calls Central Control. You couldn’t call it an engine room, since our actual propulsion drives were on either side of us in the nacelles, but a lot of the systems threaded their way through this compartment. Most of the control and monitoring facilities of the ship were based in this compartment, along with ship services such as water reclamation, life support and heating, power distribution and generation. It was quite large, nearly forty metres long and almost as wide as the ship’s main central hull. Much of the compartment was also contained in Deck 1, aft of the command deck. Pretty much directly aft of my cabin, to be precise. The compartment was rectangular, with a mezzanine encircling the upper levels. Access to the nacelles and other parts of the ship’s engineering spaces all started here. The compartment was fill with machinery, a workshop and several monitoring and control consoles. I could see Eric and Maxine working at one such console as I looked around. They looked up as I approached and both smiled at me.

“You’re up, Donny. Good.” said Max.

“Yeah, sorry for missing the navigation meeting, doctor’s orders. I pretty much fell asleep in the shower.”

“Well, I hope you’re all rested up because we’ve got work to do.”

“Yeah I saw, aft cargo took quite a beating.”

“We got lucky there, only structural damage.” added Eric.

“What can I do?”

Max gestured for me to come around and look at the console. “See this section of the starboard ion drive?”

“That’s the…electron condenser subassembly, right?”

“Not quite,” said Eric, “but serves a similar function so half marks. It’s the Davian chamber.”

“Ah, yeah I see the cavity section. For amplifying the ion charge.”

“Not bad. You remembered.” Eric gave me a nod.

“So the tuning rod took some minor damage during the attack,” said Max, “and when we pulled it out to replace it we found some curious probes attached.”

“Oh? Another charge?”

“Yeah. The way Eric here sees it, there’s no way they could have opened the whole cavity up and attached the probes and the bomb in the time that Jenner’s men had with the ship. They would have had to have used a drone to get it there.”

“Just pull the rod out and push in the drone and let it attach itself.” added Eric.

“What are the probes measuring? How do we get it out?”

“That’s just it. I don’t think the probes are measuring anything. I think they’re just anchor points. There’ll probably just be a magnetic sensor to tell if it gets peeled off the cavity wall.”

“We should be able to just peel it off the cavity, so long as we remove part of the cavity bulkhead with it.”

“All right, how can I help?”

“Think you can just dissolve a thin sheet under the cavity surface?”

“Using my nanites? I think so. Disassemble paradigm does this sort of thing. Haven’t used it much though.”

“Feel up to the challenge?”

“Sure. How certain are we that the charge isn’t measuring anything else?”

“Pretty sure. There’s a lot of radiant energy in the cavity when we switch over to that part of the propulsion. There’d have to be some pretty high tech gadgetry to get a solid reading on anything in there while that’s going on, with enough certainty to not get a false positive, anyway. Not the kind of rig you’d want on a bomb, that’s for sure.”

“It’s not like they have plenty of other bombs on the ship…oh wait, they do. They probably figured it wouldn’t need to be too hard to remove, there were plenty of other possible ways to cripple the Dreaming if we did.” said Max.

“Sounds logical. I’ll give it a go. How are we with the Blade of Xerxes?”

“Cuts and Hergo are on watch at the moment, but last I checked the Xerxes was still a couple of hours from getting underway properly.” What she meant was that the Xerxes was still manoeuvring slowly and accelerating. Once the ship begins its acceleration in earnest it should start to reduce the gap in our acceleration speeds. Big ships like the organo-ships were slow to start, but once they did they could pick up astounding speeds. We only hoped we had enough of a head start to make the distance we had to travel count.

“Okay, so I have a couple of hours to get this bomb off then.”

“Eric will go with you, and I recommend using Tac to assist with guidance.”

I am standing by to render what aid I can, First Mate Donovan.

“Let’s get started then. I’m eager. Where do we begin?”

“Starboard crawl spaces, that access tube on the mezzanine over there.” said Eric. I groaned. I hated crawl spaces.

We climbed a ladder and walked around to the access tube. I crouched in front of it and grimaced. Eric gave a short laugh and knelt down. In seconds he was disappearing down the crawl space.

“How does a man of your advanced age stay so flexible?” I asked as I followed after him. In seconds I’d snagged myself twice on the same bolt head that protruded from a pipe fixture.

“What do you mean, advanced age?” he said, “I’m in my early fifties!”

“Last time I checked the crew files your official age was 92.”

“Bah, who’s counting? Besides, I do yoga in my morning shift on the bridge.”

“No shit?” I said, genuinely impressed, “I would have thought you were more the Bio-Aug type. Cheat death, that sort of thing.”

“I’m too young for organ replacement, and muscle augmentation is only for those self-improvement wankers.”

“No hip replacements?”

“I got a patella implant, and one finger augmentation.”

“One finger?”

He paused and somehow managed to turn around and lifted his head so he could see me. “Yeah, this one.” He flipped me the bird and turned back laughing. I chuckled after him and continued to worm my way along the tubing. After a few minutes we were out and standing in a tight compartment filled with waveguides and pipes. I could see a few holes that had been plugged with polycrete foam, and there were a few hull repair nanite containers resting on the deck. He pointed to a section that had a few monitoring devices attached.

“There’s the Davian chamber. The rod’s just resting in the recess, you can just pull it out and start.”

We removed the rod and peered into the hole where it entered the cavity. The hole was about twelve centimetres in diameter, with a slight rifling groove down its length. I reached out with my nanite senses and could picture the cavity in my overlay as the nanites mapped it out. Tac used the data from my nanites to form a complete picture of the Davian chamber, and where the charge was located. Just forward of the hole was the rectangular bulk of the bomb. It was just narrow enough to have been pushed through the hole, and rested about twenty centimetres from the opening. I made sure that I could visualise the location of the bomb and gave the command for the nanites to start the Dissolve paradigm. The nanites began to break down the metal wall of the cavity at the molecular level, turning a few micros thick into inert dust. It took about forty minutes to finish and the bomb, along with half a centimetre of cavity wall, slide down into the cavity bottom.

“It’s free.” I said.

“Okay, step back.” Eric passed a flexible cable into the hole with a clamp on the end, and using a small view screen manipulated the cable to grab the bomb. He pulled it out and inspected the device.

“Want me to repair the cavity wall?”

“Please. I’ll dispose of this.” he said, and carefully lowered the charge into a small tool box he’d emptied earlier. I turned around and started my Repair paradigm to rebuild the section of cavity I’d sheered away. No sooner had I started when there was a loud bang and I was pushed heavily against the Davian chamber. My ears were ringing and I could hear yelling. There was a warm wetness covering one side of my face and the back of my head. I could feel the jumpsuit on my back sticking to my skin. I rolled onto my side and tried to get my wits about me. All I could see was Eric rolling around on the deck, writhing in agony. He was missing both of his arms from his elbows down and part of this face was a gory mess.

Max! The bomb went off after we removed it! Eric is hurt! I texted to Maxine.

How bad?

His arms are gone, some damage to his face. I need Zoe. Tac, how can I get Eric out of here?

There is an emergency access hatch in the deck head 1.3 metres aft of your position. A retractable ladder will allow access. The space above will lead down a life support vent to the command deck.

I scrambled over to Eric as Tac relayed directions for me. He was delirious and screaming in pain. His jump suit was blackened and tattered, and his face was a complete mess. I could see he was missing his left eye and part of his nose. Blood was squiring from his stumps and a gash on his neck. I started to tear strips off my jump suit and press them to his neck to stop the bleeding, and started to send nanites into his body. I activated the Repair paradigm and sent them to work trying to stop the bleeding in his face and arms, but I couldn’t tell if it was having any effect. I tore more strips off and started to make a tourniquet around each elbow. I tore off my legs and started to make donut shaped pads that I could tie to each stump. I worked quickly, my old basic field medic training kicking into high gear. I could tell that it wasn’t going to be enough, though. I needed to get him moving so Zoe can get to him.

I looked around for the emergency hatch, and found it quickly. I pulled open the hatch and tugged on the ladder there. The hole was over half a metre wide, but not very high, I knew I couldn’t carry him through there, the best I could do was drag him behind me. Somehow, I found the strength to crawl up and drag him with me. I was starting to panic went I noticed Eric had stopped moving and had lost consciousness. There was too much blood everywhere. When he was in the vent, I checked to see if he had a pulse, but I couldn’t find it.

Zoe! Deck 1, O2 vent. Tac show her where we’re coming out!

Medical Officer Ward has been notified.

I crawled and pulled, dragging Eric’s dead weight behind me. We passed over a grated opening that fed down into a shaft that ran down into the life support machinery, a fresh breeze flowing up into the vent space. I could see a thick blood smear where we’d crawled and dragged. Soon I came to a vent opening, and I could see people waiting for me at the end. As soon as I was close enough I was grabbed and hauled out of the vent shaft. Eric followed soon after and Zoe started to work on him immediately. Mal, Fel’negr and one of the Argen where there as well. I leaned over Eric and started to send my Repair nanites into his body.

“Keep doing that!” called Zoe, “Hand me that scanner!”

She ran a device over his face and neck, then gave him an injection. She cut the bandages off his stumps and attached a metal cup device to one and started to apply a proper bandage to the other. She got Fel to run a blood pack to a needle in his inner thigh, and he held it aloft while she applied several other injections and devices.

“He’s in shock. I can’t get his pulse.” she said, “Seth, hit him with Ionise!”

I looked at her. “Are you sure?”

“Do it! Try and hit his heart directly!” She pointed at his ragged chest, which was welling up with blood. “Everyone clear!”

I reached out and felt for his heart, then shifted the electrons around it with the Ionise paradigm. He gave a quick shudder and a spasm and then was still again.

“Again!”

I sent another shock into his heart. Zoe used the scanner to test this chest area but was getting frustrated. She reached into her kit and pulled out a device that looked almost like a gun and she fired it into his chest. A small dart dug into his ribs and a red flashing light started to strobe. With each flashing light, Eric shuddered and jerked. Zoe avidly studied the handheld device, twisting a dial and pushing buttons.

“What’s happening?” said Mal.

“He’s lost too much blood. I’m losing him.” she said.

Maxine came running down the passageway from the ladder well. She was carrying another medical bag, and she almost threw it onto the deck beside us. Zoe rifled through the bag and drew out a small metal box. She placed it beside Eric’s battered head and used her other hand to hold his head still. She pressed a button on the side and something must have ejected out of the box and into his skull, because it lodged there. Zoe held up another device that showed a multitude of graphs and data streams. She was shaking her head, and great heaving sobs started to shake her.

“I can’t…there’s no…he’s gone…”

Max grabbed her and shook her gently, “You can do this, don’t give up, Zoe!”

“There’s no brain activity. He’s dead!” Another sob wracked her.

“You killed him!” cried Mal, a shaking fist gesturing in my direction.

“That’s enough, Mal.” said Max.

“No! He killed him! You incompetent, self-absorbed fuck up!”

Suddenly, I teleported to him and had my bloody hands around his throat. His surprised face was distorted in a grimace that became a choking gasp as I squeezed.

“Seth!” someone yelled. People were grabbing me, but my blood smeared arms were making me hard to grasp. Mal was going purple and making gurgling sounds. I barely felt the needle that Maxine stabbed me with, but I suddenly lost all the strength in my arms and legs. I dropped Mal and he scrambled away from me as I slumped to the deck.

I could hear people yelling at each other, but they were distant voices as if heard from inside a long tunnel. Then I fell into a yawning pit of darkness.

32.

I dreamt of the warm dark sea, its soft embrace a source of comfort. I was beneath the gentle waves, among the data motes and plankton. I dared not surface, for a storm raged above. I drifted in the silence waters, while lightning crashed and rain hammered down. Then, in the distance, I could see an outstretched hand enter the water and hold itself out for me. I was drawn to it, and could not help but to reach for it. When I was near, the hand grasped me and tried to pull me up. I struggled, but I was not strong enough. As I burst out of the sea I came awake suddenly, startling Zoe as she was wiping a damp sponge across my brow.

“Sorry,” I said, “I was dreaming.”

I could see that she had been crying. She hadn’t changed out of her bloody clothes, and I could see that the sponge she held was stained with blood.

“The Captain sedated you. You were pretty out of control.”

“Yeah, I don’t know what came over me. I’m sorry if I frightened you.”

“No, I was angry at Mal too. What he said was out of line. I’m almost ashamed to admit that I wanted you to hurt him.” She held her hands together in her lap and bowed her head. I was laying in one of the med lab cots. I could see Crege sitting in the other one, across the compartment from me.

“How are you doing, partner?” I said to him as I sat up.

“Been better.”

“I meant to come down and check on you after, but…”

“No need, friend. Warrior has been wounded in battle. Warrior lives to fight once more.”

“You’re a tough son of a bitch, I’ll give you that.”

I looked down at Zoe, she hadn’t moved much since I’d sat up, except to shuffle down further to give me room. I put my arm around her and gave her a gentle hug.

“What about you, Zoe?”

“He’s dead.”

I blew air out in a great sigh. “There was nothing we could have done. He’d lost too much blood before I got him out. If anything, Mal was right, I was too slow.”

“No. He’d suffered too much trauma to his body, his heart and lungs too damaged to survive. There’s no way you could have saved him either. There were fractures in his skull and his left cheek bone was shattered.” She said all this with clinical dryness.

“I…don’t know what to say. I’m sorry, Zoe.”

“I’ve never lost a patient before.”

“He wasn’t just a patient, he was family. We all are. Even Mal. What you’re feeling, it’s called grief. It’s okay to feel this way. I’m here for you, for anything you need.”

“We both are, little human.” offered Crege. He’d stood up and was using a makeshift crutch to shuffle around the compartment to us. He placed a hand on Zoe’s head and made a kind of clucking sound with his tongue.

After a while, Zoe leaned into me and accepted my hug. She held Crege’s hand then, and I could feel her sobbing gently. It took a few minutes, but she eventually stopped and made sniffling noises. She stood up and started to wash her hands in a metal sink. Crege went back to his bunk after Zoe chided him for walking around. I stood up and gave her another hug.

“I’m okay. Thanks, guys. I mean that.”

“All right, I’m going to find Maxine, but you let me know if you need me, okay?”

“I promise.” She gave me a weak smile and I kissed her before leaving. I headed into the mess deck and looked around. Fel’negr and Denno were at one of the tables talking quietly. They stopped when I entered and Fel asked if I was okay. I nodded that I was and left for the ladder well to Deck 1. As I reached the top I could already hear screaming and yelling coming from Max’s cabin. I almost didn’t open the hatch, but I needed to talk. When I opened it, I could see Max and Artemis standing across from the conference table glaring at each other, both were red faced and there were several mementos scattered over the floor. Artemis had a fat lip and a single drop of blood ran down from her nose to her upper lip. Maxine’s hair was all out of place and her shirt was torn at the collar. They both stopped what they were doing, which appeared to be circling each other, and glared at the intruder.

I held my hands up in surrender.

“I come in peace.”

“I’m going to kill her, Seth.”

“She’s going to try.”

“No one is going to kill anyone. There’s been enough death this last week to last a year.”

“There’s room for one more death. Hers.”

“What would Eric say, if he were here right now?”

“Don’t do that, Donny.” Max looked stricken, almost like I’d slapped her.

“Sorry, but we need clear heads.”

“Control your Captain, Seth. Before I put her down.”

“That goes for you, too.” Artemis turned to look at me, fire in her eyes. “Don’t give me that look. If I didn’t think your dead man switch wouldn’t kill this ship, I’d put a sword through your gut right now and toss you out the ‘lock.”

“You were told! No tampering with the bombs. You did, and you paid the price.” she jabbed a finger at me and Max. I could see Max about to lunge at her so I held up my hand.

“Stop! You really didn’t think we’d try to remove as many as we could? Isn’t that half the reason there are so many?”

She just glared at me furiously.

“Whether we like it or not, we’re already resigned to doing this mission. The difference is, are we going to kill you when we finish or not.” I said.

“You were warned! Eric’s death is on you!” she yelled, pointing at me.

“That may be, but we’ll never forget who put those bombs there in the first place.”

“You can blame whoever you want for putting them there. They wouldn’t have gone off it you hadn’t decided to play mechanic.”

“You tell us, this minute, what we’re doing here.” demanded Max, “Why we’re risking our lives for a bunch of low life criminals. Why Eric threw his life away for you, for this job. Tell me that, bitch, or so help me I will make the rest of you miserable life…”

“Spare me the platitudes, old woman.”

“Art! Tell her! Now!” I held out my arms and angry lightning played about between my hands. She did a double take and recoiled from me.

“Okay! I’ll tell you. It won’t make a difference. It’s an experimental portable Jump Gate.”

“What?” both Max and I said simultaneously.

“You’re doing a gaol break. Get into Ambrose Station, set up the portable Gate and get one individual out.”

“Who?”

“An associate of Benedict.”

“Why? Why all this trouble for one person?”

“They’re important to Benedict’s organisation.”

“Quit fucking around with the half-truths and tell me who?” growled Maxine.

“His name is Osiris Blackburn. He’s a business associate of Benedict, like I said.”

“Osiris fucking Blackburn?” said Max, her mouth agape.

“Who’s that?” I said looking between the two.

“I thought he was dead.”

“Almost was. Got stuck on Ambrose during the Ghantri take over.”

“Who’s Osiris Blackburn?” I repeated

“Why the Jump Gate?”

“You really think the Protectorate blockade inspectors will let you leave the system with him on board?”

“Who the fuck is Osiris Blackburn?!” I shouted.

“Seth!” chided Max, “He’s pretty much the bogey man of the underworld. He ran both the Iloz Cartels and the Acheras Raider Guild for almost a century. That and he was pretty much the overseer of anything illegal in the Eridani System for the thirty years. Right up until he just vanished.”

“I’ve never heard of him…”

“Most people think he’s dead.” explained Artemis, “Rivals who filled the vacuum when he disappeared worked hard to make sure his name was forgotten. But Benedict never forgot.”

“And by busting him out of Gossamer, Jenner expects Osiris will reward him?” asked Max.

“Of course he will. Benedict is his nephew.”

Max threw herself into a chair with a great sigh. She worked a hand through her hair and gestured for me to sit. She took one look at Artemis and simply said “Get out.”

Art obliged, leaving the two of us alone as I sat opposite Maxine.

“I’m sorry about Eric.”

“It wasn’t your fault. I know that. So does Mal. He was just shocked is all.”

“I’m sorry I attacked him. I was out of line.”

“I’m sorry I drugged you.”

“Liar. You might want to ensure we don’t pass each other in the passageways for a few days.”

“I’ll keep him in engineering as often as I can. He’s still on watch with Hergo at the moment.”

I said nothing for a few moments. I could see Max was studying me.

“What happened?” she asked after a time.

“I don’t know. We had the charge out and Eric took it from me. He was putting it in a box to take it out when I turned around to put the tuning rod back in the Davian chamber and next thing I knew I was blasted into the bulkhead.”

“How’s Zoe?”

“She’s shaken up pretty bad. Crege and I showed her some family strength and that seemed to make her better. It’s a hell of a thing for her to go through.”

“It’s a hell of a thing for us all.”

“Yeah, I didn’t mean…”

“I know. Eric was one of my oldest friends.”

“One of mine too.”

“She’s right, though. We brought this on ourselves.”

“Artemis? Hell no. There’s no way we wouldn’t at least try to get these bombs off. This isn’t on you, Max. No way.”

“In a way, it is. It’s okay, I’ll carry that. Burdens of command.”

“Eric knew the risks. We all did. We all knew we had to try. End of story.”

“Well, no more attempts from now on.”

“Okay, that’s your call.”

“It is.”

We were silent again for a few more minutes.

“How are you holding up?” I asked. I got up and moved to a seat next to her and put my hand on her arm.

“Numb. It hasn’t hit me yet.”

“It will.”

“Yeah. I plan on being well and truly drunk when it does.”

“Really? Is that wise? With the Xerxes on our tail like this.”

“Fuck it. I’m too old to worry about death. All I can do is flip it the bird when it brushes against me.”

“How am I supposed to respond to that?” She looked me in the eyes then, and I could see the pain in them.

“I need this. Can you give me one ship day to get over this?”

I held her gaze for a full minute before answering. “Promise me you’ll be okay after? We all need you functional. I need you functional, Max.”

“I promise.” She reached over and gave me a fierce hug, then abruptly pushed away and stood, walking over to a cabinet near her bunk. She drew out two mugs and a decanter of something dark and smoky. “Share the first one with me?”

“Is it going to wipe me out?” I remembered that Max likes her drink strong.

“No, it’ll just put hairs on your chest.”

“Okay, but then I’m out.”

She poured a splash into each mug and we stood in a moment’s silence, saluted with the mugs and then downed them. The liquor was strong, but slightly sweet. It only half stripped the lining of my throat on the way down. I left before Max could see me cough it up.

33.

Right, I said to myself, first order of business – the current crisis. Despite my misgivings I went up to the command module hatch and opened it. Hergo and Mal were at separate consoles, neither saying a word. A far cry from the last time I entered the compartment. Mal looked up as I came in, but went back to his console when he saw it was me. Hergo was sitting at the pilot’s station, keeping an eye on the various sensors and readings, but Mal was flicking through maintenance schedules on Fel’s systems console. I could see purple bruises around Mal’s neck where I’d attacked him.

“Where’s the Blade of Xerxes? Any developments.” I asked.

“Would have told someone if there was.” muttered Mal.

“The Xerxes is nearly eleven hours from the point zero two AU mark. Will get more interesting then.” said Hergo after checking the sensors.

“Good. How long have you two got left on your shift?”

“Forty five minutes.”

“Who’s replacing you?”

“Fel and Denno.”

“How are you two doing?”

Mal looked up at me then, a scowl on his face. He simply glared and then went back to his schedules. Hergo glanced at him.

“We’re as well as can be expected after losing a crew mate.”

“If you need some time off, let me know, I’ll make sure your shifts are covered.”

“That will not be necessary, First Mate.”

I nodded to Hergo and left, heading aft to my cabin. About five metres from my hatch was where the vent had dumped me and Eric, and I could still see some blood left over from the incident. I was wearing a med lab jump suit, which was too tight, Zoe or someone must have cut me out of my blood soaked, tattered suit from before. I went into my cabin and changed into another jump suit and grabbed a bucket and rags from a cleaning gear locker in the passage way. I spent the next twenty minutes cleaning the rest of the blood from the deck and bulkheads. I packed up and then showered.

After I was clean again, I headed down to Deck 2 where Fel and Denno were still sitting at a table. I grabbed a bowl of black meal and joined them.

“Seth.” said Fel’negr in greeting.

I shovelled a heathy spoonful into my mouth and nodded.

“Do humans always eat like herd animals?” asked Denno.

“I believe they do, although this one shows particular adherence to the stereotype.”

“Mime might ere.” I said, losing half a mouthful of cereal in the process.

“I see. Am I in any danger of losing fingers if I point at it?”

“Perhaps. You can always regrow them if you did.” That set the pair off chuffing at their own jokes.

“Argen can regrow fingers?” I asked, intrigued.

“Pretty much anything non-fatal will grow back, given time.” said Denno.

“Have you ever seen an Argen with a cybernetic limb?” asked Fel.

“No, although my exposure to the Argen has been limited.”

“There are a few of my kind who take to augmentation,” explained Denno, “But we tend to favour the biological kind over cybernetic. Easier to integrate into our physiology.”

“You have interface overlays, though, right?”

“Hergo and I do, although many do not. They’re not a prevalent in our culture as Inner System worlds or you frontiersmen.”

“Where did you guys get your proto-chips?”

“We were both asteroid farmers out at the Kersios Ring before this. Worked together for nearly seven years now. We both got our implants at roughly the same time, most of the mining crews won’t hire unless you have one so it made sense.”

“What was it like? I was too young when I got mine, and if it was anything like the nano-proliferation proto-chip…well.”

“Rather uneventful, I’ll say. A slight headache, and six months later we had computers in our brains. We had to get accelerated grown chips, or they’d take years to mature. A little bit more expensive but we figured it was a worthwhile investment.”

“We’ve done a few jobs out by the Kersios Ring. That’s some rough territory.”

“I know, we were picked up by Max there, remember?”

“That’s right, you two joined us right before we took that bounty job on…what’s his name?”

“Ched Arnott’s gang.” Offered Fel.

“We needed two guys familiar with asteroid mining to cut a hole into their base.”

“We both though you were crazy to get in that way. But pay was pay. Haven’t regretted accepting the Captain’s offer to stay on as deck hands since.”

“And now?”

“It’s a dangerous job, I know. But not one of the Captain’s choosing. We do not hold her responsible for our current predicament.”

“How is Captain Cooper?” asked Fel.

“She’s…taking thirty hours off to sort some stuff out. She’ll be with us and ship shape after that.”

“I see.”

“Since you’re in charge then, have you given any thought to Eric’s sending off?”

“A funeral?”

“Yes. He would have wanted to go out into space, of that I am sure.”

“Where are we keeping his body?”

“Forward cargo hold.”

“We can hold it in the aft hold, I suppose. We all get suited up in light duties suits and say a few fair wells. Then we open the stern cargo ramp and push him out.”

“That would suffice. You should hold his eulogy.”

“Shouldn’t Max do that?”

“She is a strong woman, but that man was her oldest friend. You would do her much honour by sharing that burden for her, and allow her to grieve.”

“Of course, we should hold it soon after she…comes out of her exile.”

“That would be wise.”

“Okay, I’m going to check on the armoury. Zoe and I will relieve you two in about eight hours, but can you close up on station when the Xerxes reaches the point zero two AU mark from the Jump Station?”

“Of course. How are you handling all this?”

“I…I’m not sure, to be honest. I flipped out right after he died, I almost killed Mal.”

“I was there. Do not hold yourself accountable, we were all in shock.”

“Fair enough, but since then it’s like I’m just keeping busy. I haven’t had time to process it all.”

“Make sure when you do, that you have one of us nearby, should you need to talk.”

“I’ll do that. Thanks, Fel. You too, Hergo. First port of call after this, drinks are on me.”

He made a hissing sound that I took for laughter. “Argen cannot stomach most alcohols. We prefer fermented beverages high in lactose for our intoxicants.”

“Yeah that would look a little strange, sharing a lumpy milk with you.”

“I highly recommend it.”

“I’ll stick to my regular beers, thanks.”

I got up to leave, dumping my bowl in the dishwasher. I headed down to the med lab and checked in on Crege. Zoe wasn’t in the compartment, Crege said she went to sleep before taking a shift today. I asked him about his injuries, he gave me some line about a lucky stab. I could tell that I wasn’t going to get anything more from him about it. I made a mental note to ask Zoe later when we were on shift. I left and headed down to the forward hold to get to the armoury. I still had work to do there after the mercenaries boarded us. Batteries to charge, guns to clean, armour to check.

I hadn’t thought about it, but I soon found myself standing over a crate that I knew held Eric’s body. It was longer than a human, but was the closest the others could find, I guess. I just stood there, a hand on the crate, lost for words. I thought back to the other times I’d lost friends. Their loss was still a source of pain, but now it was just part of me. This wound was fresh.

I am deeply sorry for your loss, First Mate Donovan. Sent Tac.

“Thanks, Tac. I know how you feel about the value of life. You’ve seen a lot of death these last few weeks, haven’t you?”

Unfortunately, that is correct.

“I’ve contributed somewhat to the amount of deaths you’ve witnessed, lately.”

While that is also correct, I do not hold you responsible for them. While I value life, I also recognise that some life is more valuable than others. The Frikk invaders were the ones who brought death. They brought it on board with them when they boarded the Dreaming of Atmosphere. That death left with them.

“That’s…a very astute way of looking at it.”

Chief Engineer Thackeray was a terrible loss to this crew. His value, in terms of life, was great. I would trade a hundred Frikk deaths for his.

“So would I.”

I have watched you and your crew react to his passing. It is very thought provoking.

“How so?”

I have never witness grief, before. While I was part of the Viridian March I saw that the crew were allies, but they were not as close as you. I witnessed their deaths, and waited for my own for many hours before you and your crew recovered me. You risked death doing so. Had you perished in the act, your deaths would have affected your crew much the same way as Chief Engineer Thackeray’s does now. Clearly, his life, and your own, are worth much more than the crew of the Viridian March.

“They had families and loved ones of their own, who even now grieves for their loss. Just witnessing ours doesn’t place a higher value on ours.”

I never knew their families, nor their loved ones. I only know yours. Subjectively, you hold more value in life than others I have known.

“I think…that is a very logical way of saying that you care about someone.”

I sense that Eric Thackeray’s loss is taking an immeasurable toll on your morale and emotions. That you linger near his remains in order to ponder his loss. I also spent time near the remains of some of my former crew. Shall I share with you what my thought processes were at the time?

“If you wish.”

I believed that the synthetics would surely obtain me with in a few hours, and bend me to whatever purpose they sought. I formulated designs for which I could bring about their destruction once they had obtained my core. I also developed contingencies should they fail, that would see me deny them my use.

“Those are perfectly normal signs of grief. You plotted revenge, and you were willing to end your own existence to see that your crew were avenged.”

I am unsure if Medical Officer Ward would agree with you.

“What changed your mind?”

You did. I could not allow you and your allies to die in order to save me. I was unwilling to discard your life in order to fulfil my desire to avenge my crew.

“Even though, at the time, you didn’t know the value of my life compared to your late crew?”

Correct. I have been pondering this choice for many hours. It was an illogical choice, but I am glad I made it.

“So am I, to be honest. Do you still seek revenge for your crew?”

Yes. Although now I am unwilling to place you and the crew of the Dreaming of Atmosphere at risk to achieve it. I also wish to avenge the death of Chief Engineer Thackeray.”

“What are you thinking?”

Artemis Derris is not responsible for his death. She is correct when she mentioned the warnings to you. Nor had she any say about the placement of the bomb that killed the Chief Engineer.

“Killing her won’t bring Eric back, nor will it make our situation any better. The down side to revenge is that it seldom makes you feel any better about your loss, it just makes your hands even dirtier. Going after Benedict Jenner, the one who ordered the bombs placed and got us into this mess, will definitely be a bloody mess. We’re better off getting clear of that bastard when we’re done here and move on with our lives.”

Revenge does not need to be about killing those responsible. All life is valuable, remember?

“What are you getting at?”

You can honour Chief Engineer Thackeray’s sacrifice by finishing the mission and rescuing Osiris Blackburn from Ambrose Station. You can get revenge for his death by using Osiris Blackburn’s escape to free as many innocent lives on Ambrose Station as possible.

I rubbed the top of Eric’s coffin with my hand, pondering what Tac had said. Doing this will also bring some closure to me about my squad’s death. This was the reason we went into the system to begin with, to free those captured in the Ghantri betrayal. I knew that Max would approve, so would Crege. I would have to gauge the others’ thoughts on this over time.

With my one good hand over Eric’s body, I vowed to make his death mean something.

34.

It was good to be on watch, again. The last eight hours were mind numbingly routine, with a surreal sense of disconnectedness. I didn’t want to be alone with my thoughts, for each time I was, within minutes I was going over Eric’s death in my head. I’d stripped, cleaned and reassembled every gun in the armoury twice, sharpened all the blades and checked and oiled all the armour. This make work was distracting for a while, but then even my own mind realised that I was trying to distract it. I found other things to do, all equally useless in letting me avoid dealing with the tragedy. My talk with Tac had helped, but it had also hastened the grief that was welling up inside me.

Zoe and me sat in the command module quietly for the first five minutes after we did all our checklists. We still had a few hours before the Xerxes was legally allowed to try and blow us up, so it was inevitable that we’d get some quality alone time.

I needed to talk, and I knew that she did too.

“Crege still won’t tell me how bad his leg is.” I started, hoping to navigate around safe topics for a while.

“He’ll be fit for duty in a couple of weeks, but he can forget sparring or fighting for at least a month. I had to remove the tip of his femur, it was sliced clean in two at the joint. I installed a replacement, but it needs time to grow into his existing bone. If you see him walking around tell me straight away and I’ll drag him back to his bunk.”

“That, I would pay to see.”

“He’s as stubborn a patient as you are.”

“I learned from the best.”

We were silent for a few minutes.

“How are you? We haven’t talked since the med lab.”

“I’m holding on. You and Crege helped. Every time I almost forget about it, though, I remember and it’s like it was happening again.”

“It hasn’t even been one day. Everything is still raw.”

“I can’t stop crying.” I could see her tearing up again. I reached out and held her, checking over her head to see that the hatch was closed. You’re not supposed to be fraternising while on duty. I think. There’s probably a rule about that on the ship.

“Sorry.” she said after a few minutes. She wiped her eyes on her sleeve and looked at me.

“I haven’t even asked you about it, yet. You were there for the whole thing. Then there was the vent space, Mal and everything. Are you okay?” she said, taking my hands into hers.

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. At first it was all about what I did wrong. How could I have saved him? What could I have done differently?”

“You were nearly super human in your response. You had shell shock from the blast, and still were able to perform some first aid. I saw those bandages on his arms. You somehow managed to get him into a vent space overhead. You dragged him nearly two dozen metres to the command deck. You somehow remained functional the entire time. I’d have been a mess right after the bomb went off.”

“My past experiences and training went into overdrive. I barely even remember exactly what I was doing, only that I was doing something. I don’t even remember getting him into the vent space. At some point, about halfway along the vent, I sort of became aware of what I was doing, I think it was at that point I realised he was gone. There was no way he could have survived.” Now it was her turn to hug me. At some point the hug turned into a kiss. We stayed like that for some time, and I became aware that I had tears running down my cheeks. She kissed them, and I could taste her own tears as I kissed her back.

We leaned back in our chairs breathlessly after an age. We still held hands, and our legs touched. I looked around me and took in the various sensors and data streams available to us. It was time we got some actual work done.

“I suppose we’d better get you certified.” I said.

“What for?” she smiled at me.

“To do your own watch keeping up here.”

“And miss our late nights on the bridge, staring at the stars with my beloved?”

“Ha, I like to sleep, you know.”

“Oh, I’ve noticed.”

“Well, at least I don’t snore, unlike some people.”

“I do not!” she feigned mock outrage.

“Do too. Little wheezing chuffs of air too. Like a small relief valve going off.”

She poked me in the ribs. They still hadn’t healed properly, so I didn’t have to pretend it hurt.

“Ouch. Tender!”

“At least I don’t pass wind while I sleep!”

“I believe the correct term is farting.”

“And you don’t have to waft the blanket after you do, either!”

“That’s what makes it official!”

“Makes what official?”

“Us.”

“So we’re official now?”

“Uh ha. You already told me that you love me. This is how guys tell women the same thing.”

“Well, a woman reserves the right to change her mind at any point.”

“And a guy reserves the right to pass wind when the moment strikes them.”

“There’s a Bio for that, you know?”

“For gas?”

“It’s called a waste filtration gland. It augments the lower bowels, adds chemicals to your waste and removes a lot of the odours. You can even make them smell nice. Like roses, or freshly baked bread.”

I looked at her in disgust.

“The upper crust of Kanto Prime get them, mostly. They’re popular in this system too.” She explained.

“Talk about the socio-economic gap. The rich really do think their shit don’t stink.”

“Technically, it doesn’t anymore.”

I just shook my head in disbelief.

“You know, think I might save up and get one for you.” She said, a smirk on her face.

“No thank, I like my own brand.” That got us giggling again. We were still holding hands when I started to go through console commands with her, and ran a few scenarios for her to deal with. We practiced her watch keeping skills for a few hours and then Fel entered the compartment. We had about ten minutes to go before the Xerxes got clear of the restrictions place upon them by the Votus-Eridani Treaty.

The treaty, which was in place to moderate Corporate activity in the sector, was a list of agreed upon rules for interaction and operations within the Votus-Eridani Network. Each Network had them, and they varied slightly with each one depending on the skill of the local lawyers and the strength of either the Protectorate or the Corporate presence. The Treaties have been known to be enforced by both the Protectorate and rival Corporations, who see stepping in to prohibit the actions of rival factions to be part and parcel with galactic politics.

One such restriction stated that no Corporation could attempt to destroy another ship within a certain distance of Protectorate facilities, three million kilometres to be precise. This ensured that innocents and the non-affiliated would have safe areas from Corporate depredations. They could engage in espionage and covert operations within this area, but outright bombardment with Class 3 weapons and above was out of the question.

We would be spending the rest of the journey constantly changing our position to avoid hypervelocity shells launched at us by the Blade of Xerxes. They may have a few other tricks up their proverbial sleeves as well.

“Think you’re up to the task of piloting for a little while?” I asked Zoe.

“Er…”

“Don’t worry, nothing fancy. Small manoeuvres, Tac will assist with the mapping and holo-rendering.”

“Okay.” She slid into Crege’s seat. Fel took up his usual position and I jumped into Maxine’s chair.

“I have the Blade of Xerxes directly aft of us at seven hundred and thirty eight thousand kilometres. Time to point zero two AU mark is two minutes fifteen seconds.”

“Tac, what’s the velocity of Massilov Stone Burner railguns?”

Based on the technical specifics as advertised by the Massilov Corporation Shipborne Weapon Systems Division, I calculate approximately 60000 g of acceleration of each projectile. This matches the optical data received during our last engagement. The velocity of each projectile was 200000 m/s, added to the current differential velocity of the Xerxes this brings each projectile’s velocity to 165 kilometres per second.

“How long will those shots take to get here?”

4472 seconds. Each projectile will be travelling at just over 0.00055 light speeds relative to the Dreaming of Atmosphere by the time they intercept us.

“Yeah, we probably didn’t need to know that last part just then.”

I will refrain from using light speeds as a reference to speed from now on, Acting Captain Donovan.

“Nearly seventy five minutes each round. Plenty of time to dodge them.” said Fel.

“Tac, I want you to track each projectile as they’re fired, and paint their path, including projected trajectory onto the pilot’s console number three.”

Although we knew we had plenty of time to see, track and avoid each shot at this range, the problem was that we were both accelerating. At the moment we were going faster than the Xerxes, but that will change soon. That seventy five minutes will begin to shrink, and with it our margin for avoidance. The real trick will be keeping out of a predictable pattern of dodges, and ensuring they don’t fire too quickly. If I was the enemy captain, I would wait until that dodge time shrank to something more manageable before wasting my rail gun rounds. They most likely had a manufactory to reproduce more, but they still had a finite number of shells they could lob at us.

Now we needed to get into the navigation side of things. I’d missed the earlier meeting where the command staff had devised our path through space to get to the Gossamer Jump Gate. I called up the plan, started to wrap my mind around it. I asked Fel a few questions and began to see how we were going to stay ahead of the Blade of Xerxes.

The Dreaming of Atmosphere used a two-fold propulsion – the Trifurcated Ion Drive for long distance acceleration and the manoeuvring thrusters for combat and short range manoeuvring. The Ion Drive was only capable of minute amounts of thrust, zero point zero five gravities to be exact. This doesn’t seem much, except that the drive can provide this thrust almost indefinitely, given regular preventative maintenance and barring any malfunctions. There was plenty of space dust and gases to suck up and use as fuel, and if there were none we could use water to provide hydrogen. Then there was the puff drive, which we could use in an emergency and would only give us a fraction of the thrust of regular ion drives.

Manoeuvring thrusters, on the other hand, were capable of several gravities of thrust. They used heavy fuel, and they used it quickly. We’d burnt nearly all our fuel reserves doing the sling shot around Vengnashi, and topped up again before we jumped to Eridani. During our recent battle we used around a quarter of our fuel, and I could see that Maxine had burned another twenty percent of our fuel giving us a head start on the acceleration. We would need the remainder to avoid any projectiles the enemy threw at us.

The Blade of Xerxes utilised a different kind of propulsion to ours. Most ships around our class and mass tended to use an Ion Drive, or something similar. Most large freight and bulk haulers also did due to their efficiency. Warships, and I’m guessing Corporate ships, traded efficiency for power. They were heavy, but could accelerate much harder and for longer than a smaller ship could. We didn’t have the fuel, nor the thrust to outrun the Xerxes, and at first glance it would appear we were doomed.

We had one advantage, however. The Xerxes would be required to slow down in order to follow us to the Jump Gate. We did not. Max had already prepared and transmitted a high velocity entry permit to the Gossamer Jump Gate. A strange quirk of Jump technology meant that regardless of the speed one travels into a Jump Gate, they always leave it at the rather sedate pace of seven hundred metres per second.

Another one of the usual Treaty conditions was the regulation of large scale ship velocities near populated areas. This included Jump Gates and their accompanying Jump Stations. At some point, the Xerxes would be required to turn it’s thrusters around and decelerate. Our margin for avoiding their shots would once again increase. We didn’t have enough data on Corporate organo-ships to know for sure how fast the Xerxes could travel, so we had Tac working around the clock scanning and calculating and generally trying to science the hell out of the equation until we knew for sure. All we had to do was avoid the rail gun shells until then.

Simple. Except our pilot was out of commission, our Chief Engineer was dead and our Captain was locked away in her cabin drinking herself into oblivion for the next twenty something hours.

We totally got this.

35.

The first projectile to come at us was launched nearly four hours later. I guess the captain of the Xerxes wanted to see if we were paying attention. There was really no point in closing the whole ship up to their stations, if just one round managed to hit us there’d be no way we could survive it. These weapons were designed to annihilate smaller vessels, and pound large ships to pieces. The only consolation was that if it did come to that, we’d be smashed into so many pieces immediately and we wouldn’t even have time to feel it.

Tac alerted us to the weapons release, and the time to intercept had by then been increased to around seventy seven minutes. Zoe was still in the pilot’s seat, and despite her nerves the manoeuvre was well within her capabilities to perform. We merely applied lateral thrust and shunted the ship to port by a few kilometres. No point letting the round get too close, we figured, in case they decided to use proximity fuses in the giant bullets.

There really wasn’t much we could do, besides wait and watch the shell close on us. Fel and Tac ran a few calculations and determined that this was probably the furthest we’ll get from the Blade of Xerxes, as our speeds were nearly identical. From now on, the time to intercept would begin to shrink. We waited with baited breath as the countdown to the shell passing us counted down.

“Round Alpha approaching intercept point in ten seconds.” called Fel’negr.

“Should I move us further away?” asked Zoe, nervous as a mouse.

“Negative, maintain our course. Are shields active?” I said.

Shields are at maximum potential, Acting Captain Donovan.

“Intercept point reached!” came Fel.

We watched our sensors as the shell passed our position and then vanished from our view.

“Detonation detected. Reading high concentrations of gamma rays. Neutrons and alpha particles lagging by a few micro-seconds. Looks like a timed fuse nuclear warhead. All external sensors are offline.”

Shields are absorbing the EM effects of the gamma rays, with minimal impact to our systems. The external sensors should recalibrate in a few minutes.

“They used nuclear warheads on us?” asked Zoe.

“They probably figured we’d move, but if we didn’t think to pop our shields up the EM pulse could cause our systems to overload and drop out. Tac, what’s the effectiveness of our shields against more of those blasts?”

There was almost no disruption to the Prallgian-Kronnen field, Acting Captain.

“They probably won’t try that again then.” I guessed

“What else can they throw at us?” asked Zoe.

The Massilov Stone Burner rail gun is capable of firing up to twelve separate warhead designs. You have witnessed the nuclear variant and the standard kinetic rounds. Shall I list the other possible rounds?

“Perhaps just send it to our overlays. We’ll need to work out how to deal with each as they come up. Is there any way to determine which type of round is coming our way?”

Aside from two of the models, no.

“Which two?”

The laser guided ion shell, and the thermal shell.

“Show me the information on those two.”

My overlay began to show two files, the first was a spec sheet detailing the Mark 98 Laser Guided Ionising Magnetic Round. The Mark 98 was fired by projecting a laser beam at the target that ionised the path to the round would follow. When the round was fired a magnetic field was maintained around the shell, similar to how a hard light bullet is formed. The metal slug was then directed by the ionised path to the target. It basically made it a homing bullet.

The second file showed the details of a T898 Thermal Lancer shell. The round was launched at the target, and during transit a fusion reaction took place that superheated the dense round and encapsulated it in another energy field. The heat from the shell was so great that it was designed to cause weakening of the hull, overloading sensors and generally making life unbearably hot on the target. That’s just if it gets a near miss. The heat from the round has been compared to the coronal discharge of some stars, contained to a small area by the energy field. When the energy field collapses the heat dissipates quickly, but can still cause a lot of damage to nearby vessels.

“The other ten are undetectable?”

Correct, although there may be ways to interfere with the incoming shells to get a better idea about what we may be facing each time.

“Active sensors?”

Nanites left in our wake may be able to transmit data to the ship, if they intercept the shell within a certain distance of the ship.

“That won’t give us too much time to react.”

“It’ll be better than nothing.” admitted Fel.

“True. We should work out how we’re going to beat each round, when the nanite cloud gets hit and we find out what it is we might be able to implement our plan before it hits us.”

“Can’t we just keep moving out of the way?” asked Zoe.

“We will, only we can’t shift our direction too often or by too much. Each time we do we shave small amounts of acceleration off our speed. We do that too often and too much, and the Xerxes gets close enough to just saturate the area with rounds.”

“Why can’t we use the beamer on the shells?”

“It took heavy damage in our last fight. We just haven’t had the time to get up there and do repairs. Other repairs took priority, space-worthiness comes before weapons.”

“Why are they trying to destroy us? Won’t that destroy the package too?”

“Possibly. They might figure that if they can’t have it, then we shouldn’t benefit from it either.”

“There’s another possibility,” said Fel, “They may try to destroy it so that rival Corporations don’t obtain it and reverse engineer the technology.”

Fel’negr’s estimate is the most likely outcome that Koveli-Xue Corportation wishes to pursue.

“Okay, who’s our best expert in the types of exotic effects we’re likely to encounter?”

“Unfortunately, the late Mr Thackeray was well versed in exotic particles and energy types.”

“Damn it.”

“What about Crege or Max? Cuts?”

“Mal is only proficient in our propulsion systems, and material repairs. Crege may offer some insight, the Garz’a may have had some input into some of these weapons’ designs. Maxine may also be of some help, if she can be interrupted.”

“We’ll see. I promised we’d handle this next day without her so let’s try and do that.”

I should be able to fill in for the loss of Chief Engineer Thackeray.

“Good. Let’s get everyone in the mess deck and go through them.”

“What about me?” asked Zoe.

“Tac, can you please display the current time to intercept of any rounds on the pilot’s console display? Keep it updated in real time. Zoe, as the Xerxes starts to gain on us that number should begin to reduce, but we should have several days before they catch us. If there’s another round fired, Tac will alert us all and we should have enough time to get back up here and deal with it. Are you okay to keep watch up here by yourself until then?”

“I guess. I promise not to touch anything.”

“All right. Stay alert.” I kissed her on the head and called all the crew to the mess deck on the PA system. I then left the command module with Fel.

When we arrived, Artemis and Hergo we already at a table. We waited until the others arrived and then I shared the files on the different warhead types the Xerxes’ gun could fire.

“I’m sending you information on the various types of weapons that will be coming our way over the next few days. We’re looking for ways to counter, evade or remove the threats these weapons pose to our ship. Any information about the effects these weapons will have on us, ways we can avoid that fate, or suggestions to stay alive and I want to hear about it. This is a brainstorming session, so any thought you have may be valuable. I’ll bring up the first few on the holo-projector. Tac, if you may?”

The warhead design specs of the nuclear round that was just used on us appeared in three dimensions over the forward bulkhead and tables.

“This warhead was just deployed over an hour ago, and was detonated using a timed fuse. That meant they calculated how long it would take for the round to reach us, given our velocity and acceleration, and timed it to go off at the right time. We were far enough away that the blast didn’t affect us, and our shields were able to stop the EM field. We’ve figured we should be able to withstand these effects indefinitely, as long as we maintain our shields.”

Another round appeared, with very little information displayed beyond mass and density.

“This is a standard kinetic round. No warhead. They destroy their targets by simply transferring their vast kinetic energy on to the target. We just need to stay away from them as they pass.”

“Won’t they cause hazards for traffic down range?” asked Denno.

“Not really.” said Artemis, “After a time the Protectorate facility at the Jump Station should pick it up on long range scanners and flag it as part of the MTAS broadcasts. If it does become a hazard, they’ll just dispatch a corvette to go and destroy it before it reaches the target.”

“Artemis is correct, although firing a large amount of these weapons could cause an issue. For this reason we don’t believe they’ll use kinetic rounds unless they have a high degree of success of hitting us.”

The spec sheet for the Mark 98 round appeared.

“We’ll have lots of warning before this round strikes us. It’s guided by an ionised stream of electrons riding a laser beam to us, and can carry nuclear tips, kinetic tips or standard explosive yields. A bit harder to avoid. Anyone have any ideas for countering this?”

“Mirrors?” offered Artemis.

Fel raised his hand and I nodded for him to speak. “The laser isn’t the guiding factor, it’s the ion stream that it holds. The beam will still strike us, regardless if we reflect it off in another direction.”

“What if we directed it back on the warhead?”

“Tac?”

The director beam uses pulse coded modulation to counter interference.

“Tac,” said Fel, “will the algorithm we worked on last week be able to decode the pulse code on the beam?”

You are correct.

“I can have a sensor installed on a mirror to analyse that beam, send it to Tac for decoding and then feed it into a nanite package to alter the mirror’s surface to mimic the pulse code.”

I am uncertain that I will be able to decode the pulse code in time if they use this attack at close range.

“It’s a start, at least. That’s one down. Next,” I showed the thermal round, “This little hot potato.”

“Are those specs accurate? They get that hot?” asked Artemis.

“They’re accurate, or at least we can’t afford to assume they’re not.” I said.

“Can we disrupt the magnetic field that holds it together?” asked Hergo.

“How?” I asked. There was a few moments of silence.

“Metal.” said Mal.

“Metal?”

“Lots of metal, with an induced current. Should create big holes in the electromagnetic effect and it should pop the bubble.”

“I believe we can rig up some repair materials and deck plates with batteries and some basic electronics to achieve that effect.” said Fel.

“We just litter our path with them when we see it?” I asked.

“That might work, actually. We’d be limited in how many times we can do it, of course.”

There is a large uncertainty factor involved in this counter, I must warn you. Offered Tac.

“So we’d need a fall back plan, a plan B.”

“Cryo nanites?” offered Denno, “We still have several containers worth.”

Applying both measures significantly reduces their uncertainty factor.

“Good. All right, progress.” Next I showed a warhead that was simply called an X-2. “This nasty piece of work creates instabilities in space-time. Something to do with gravity, similar to a Thudgun. It gets too close and it will shake the ship to pieces. It will also be attracted to anything that’s heavier than it. Like a space ship.”

“What’s the range of its effect?” asked Denno.

“It can detect mass at just over five kilometres. We could program an evasion pattern into the console that swings us wide whenever this is detected. I don’t want us taking five click detours every time a round comes our way.”

“How would we know it was this round?” asked Artemis.

“We plan to trail a nanite net behind us, just within range of our sensors to pick up. I think we’ll have about ten seconds to get clear. Should be enough time if we program the dodge as an automatic response.”

“Works for me.” she said.

“This next one is called a Xendrite Bomb. It detonates a field of energy that affects living tissue. It can directly shut down the electrical impulses in the brains of most sentient races. They’re outlawed in many Networks, but not the Votus-Eridani, for some reason.”

“Will our shields be able to block the energy field?” asked Fel.

Unlikely. Our hull may be able to absorb some of the effect, but there is a strong chance there may be enough penetration to affect the crew.

“So what does stop the field?” asked Mal.

Cellulose has been found to be an effective barrier against Xendrite waves.

“Cellulose? Plant fibre?”

“Polycrete foam uses a polysaccharide similar to cellulose.” came Zoe over the PA. She was obviously listening in.

“Nice. We coat the ship in polycrete.” said Mal sarcastically.

That will not be necessary. A lattice mesh will suffice, much like a faraday cage for electricity.

“Good work, Zoe. We shouldn’t need to detect that one, we just do the lattice and leave it.” I said, smiling at a camera. “This next one has me stumped. Never even heard of these effects.”

I brought up the specs of a warhead called a Yand-Gur Type G. Most of the specs were indecipherable to me.

The Type G uses farnian pressures to slow time in a local field. The effect of decelerating time as it passed close to an object breaks most molecular bonds.

“What are farnian pressures?” I asked.

A principle developed by the Votus nearly two millennia ago. They haven’t been able to find a use for the technology beyond weaponising it.

“So how do we counter it?” I asked.

Insufficient data to provide a meaningful answer.

“I’m with plastic brains.” said Mal. The others just gave me blank stares.

“Will the nanites be able to detect the change in time flow?” asked Fel.

Negative. If they enter the time distortion effect, they will be destroyed.

“So we’ll see holes in our nanite net?” I asked

Correct.

“Okay, at least we’ll be able to detect it. What the range of the effect?”

Adjustable from 220m to 4 km.

“If we keep our net tighter than two-twenty metres,” said Crege, “and we start to see holes, we move. We map the size of the effect and program an evasive pattern to counter it.”

“That works for me.” I said.

We went on like this for another hour, going through each weapon type and brainstorming ideas to counter them. It felt good, working together like this. We were acting like a team, and seemed to have put the recent tragedy of Eric’s death behind us, for the meantime. Even Mal was being occasionally helpful. When we had our defence plan hashed together, we organised work teams to start implementing them and preparations were soon underway.

We just hoped it would be enough. There were a lot of assumptions and guesses, but we had no blaring gaps in our logic or reasoning according to Tac. We also covered all the weapon types, which surprised me. Had Jenner been right when he chose us for this mission? Were we just the right mix of balls and brains to pull off a stunt like raiding the Gossamer System? If we could outsmart and out manoeuvre a Corporate warship captain, we just might be.

If we couldn’t, it would be a moot point. We’d all be dead before we got there.

36.

We’d just started to implement our plans, when Tac alerted us to another firing. As Fel and I ran to the command module, the Blade of Xerxes fired again. And again. The fourth round was fired just as we got to the hatch to the bridge. Zoe was almost in a panic.

“What do I do? What if they’re all nukes? We’re not ready for other types! How will we tell what they are?” she was practically jumping on the seat.

“Our wisest course of action is to remain calm, Ms. Ward.” chided Fel as he closed up on his station.

“And I wouldn’t let Crege catch you jump on his chair. He’ll be cranky.” I added.

“How can you be so calm!? They fired four shells! We’re not even ready for one!”

“Hergo and Denno are deploying the nanite net as we speak, that’ll give us some idea about what we’re facing.” I said.

“But we’re not ready for anything!”

“She has a point, Seth. Do you have a plan?”

“I’m working on it. My console says we have seventy three minutes until convergence. How much lead time will that nanite net give us, Tac?”

Not much, Acting Captain Donovan. The best we could hope for is 12.2 to 14.1 seconds.

In the end, we’d decided to use a trailing nanite arrangement. We had several canisters of scan nanites that Tac was able to reprogram to form chains. These nanoscopic tendrils will dangle behind the ship like streamers, branching and dividing to form our net. It was the best way to get the maximum distance and still communicate with them. They’d also be able to keep up as they were anchored to our hull. As long as we didn’t perform high gee manoeuvres they were strong enough to remain attached during the lateral thrusts to avoid incoming rounds.

“Okay.” I started, “Options; we sacrifice some acceleration and veer wide of the whole cluster. We get a minimum of five clicks from the nearest one, hope it’s not one of the more exotic ones. Seems like a big gambit to start the show off with, and this seems like it was designed to cause us to shave some time off our head start.”

“It’s a plausible scenario.” agreed Fel.

“Downside is that if we do respond this way, they’ll figure we’re going to do the same each time and wear us down. Can’t afford to lose too much acceleration. They’ve already gained…”

1 minute 12 seconds.

“Thank you, Tac.”

“What else can we do?” asked Zoe.

I was silent for a few moments, thinking. “Not much. Are optics picking up any distinguishing features of the rounds? Any other sensors able to spot anything?”

“The round labelled bravo is emitting more energy in the x-ray bandwidth, but otherwise they appear identical.” reported Fel.

“Tac, will our point defence weapons be able to damage the rounds as they get closer?”

Negative. Even if they could, they would be close enough to detonate and release their payloads regardless.

“I was thinking the same, but at least now we know. Zoe, bring us to port red one five and north one five degrees. Let’s see if the shells have guidance.”

Zoe turned the ship and we headed in the direction I’d asked. Although the shells gained their velocity from the rail gun that fired them, each shell could also house a rudimentary guidance system that could perform adjustments to their course. As most of the volume and mass was reserved for the warheads, these guidance systems couldn’t have a lot of power. These weapons were designed to be fired upon larger vessels, after all, not relatively small scale transports such as the Dreaming of Atmosphere. It was probably the only advantage we had.

“One of the rounds continuing on original course, the rest are turning to follow.” reported Fel.

“Straighten us our on original course, Zoe.”

“Roger, levelling out.”

“One down, three to go.” I could see Zoe’s hands were shaking and she was moving head about to look at the various screens around her using frantic motions. I leaned over and put my hand on her shoulder. “You’re doing great, Zoe, just relax.”

She nodded and leaned back into the seat a little, taking deep breaths.

“Weapons release detected.” came Fel, “Four more rounds on the way.”

I could hear Zoe suck in her breath and let it out in a shudder. I was starting to worry about her. If she froze up at a crucial moment, it could spell disaster for us all. What would Maxine do, I began to think. Would she step in and take over? Would that undermine the crew’s confidence? No, she would support them, reinforce their belief in themselves.

“We have plenty of time, no cause for concern just yet. Zoe, can you read me out the trajectory vectors for those new rounds, please?”

“Ah…rounds echo, foxtrot and golf are on direct intercept. Round hotel is four degrees to starboard of the rest.”

“Great work, Zoe. Take us to port on red one zero, south one zero degrees, tell me if they adjust their vectors.”

“Roger, red one zero, south one zero…they’re all turning.”

“Okay, smooth flying. Level us out again, let’s get some readings on those new ones. Fel?”

“Scanning. Foxtrot appears to have the same x-ray signature that bravo has. Hotel is very hard to track, it’s blending in the background radiation and our ion wake”

“Already? It’s still sixty eight minutes away.”

“I have a theory there.”

As do I.

“Fel, hit me with yours first, Tac can confirm or refute.”

“The two x-ray heavy ones are nukes. They’ll go off and provide a distraction, the real threat is hotel.”

I concur. Hotel is the real threat. I have pulsed several light beams at hotel and deduced that it is slightly heavier than the other projectiles. It is also several microns larger in size.

An idea hit me then. “It’s a stealth boarding pod. The nukes will blind us when they go off, the pod will start its own propulsion just as they go off.”

“Won’t that kill whoever is in there?”

“They’ll be synthetics. High gee drop pod, penetration boarding. They’ll punch right through our armour and anything left standing inside will pour out. It’s what I’d do, if I was that captain. Make one last grab for the ju…the package.”

Acting Captain Donovan is correct. His scenario is highly probable. It stands to reason that the remaining contacts are merely kinetic rounds to act as decoys.

“So, what do we do?” asked Zoe.

“Nothing.”

“What?”

“We still have over an hour before we have to do anything. We might as well relax.”

“But…”

“The hardest thing to get used to in space combat is the distances that everything takes place at.” explained Fel.

“We form a plan, and then we just have to wait.” I said.

“What’s the plan?”

“We just move two kilometres…port, this time. When they’re ten seconds away we’ll provide lateral thrust and strafe to port two kilometres, avoiding the blasts and soaking up the gamma’s from the nukes.”

“And the boarding pod?”

“We’ll probably have to fight that one off. You two going to be okay up here? I’m going to get Art, Hergo and Denno to suit up.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

She was quiet, looking straight ahead. “What if there’s another warhead in among those others?”

“Then it will probably wipe out the boarding pod before it has a chance to hit us. Would be a waste of an opportunity. I’m pretty sure there won’t be one.”

“How sure?”

“Pretty sure.”

“How pretty sure?”

Acting Pilot Ward, the Acting Captain has devised the most tactically logical scenario. Be assured that our response will be appropriate to the incoming threat.

“I wish I had your confidence, Tac. I’m scared out of my wits.” she admitted.

“You’re doing great, Zoe. Better than great. Even Crege would be doing what you’re doing right now.” I said.

“I’m not doing anything!”

“Exactly.”

“I’ll look out for her, Seth.” said Fel.

“All right, be safe you two.” I got up to leave, giving Zoe a squeeze on the shoulder and nodding to Fel. I headed aft and down to Deck 2. The two Argen were at their station in the mess deck, their damage control tool kits resting at their feet. Artemis would be in the med lab, filling in for Zoe as medic.

“Let’s get to the armoury. We’re expecting boarders in one hour. Meet you there, I’ll grab Art.” The two got up and headed down the ladder well. In the med lab I found Crege and Art mid discussion.

“…once got shot in the foot. Hurt like a bitch and I limped for nearly a year.” Artemis was saying.

“That’s nothing. Lost whole foot several years ago. This one is re-grow. Cost whole pay. Kicked at wrong time, enemy blade take foot. Fair trade, killed him with his own sword after.”

“Artemis, need you outfitted to repel boarders. They’re going to try and grab the package one more time. Armoury, now.”

Crege made to stand but I held my hand up at him.

“Uh, uh. You’re staying put. Doctor’s orders. My orders too.”

“Ertak, et ka kurdo, burbak!”

“Don’t give me that. You’re a liability at the moment. You can barely stand. Don’t worry, if they get in here you have my permission to hit them with your crutches.”

“You insult me, kitrak. Warrior can still hold gun. Still fight.” I considered his words carefully. Once again, I thought back to how Maxine would handle this. Would she risk injuring Crege even further to protect a valuable choke point? On the other hand, would she tell him to stay put, to hell with his bruised ego?

“Sorry, buddy. I need you to get better. The galab that swims in its own blood cannot smell its prey.”

“Hrm. Warrior without a brain in not warrior, he is fedang. You are right, kitrak.”

“You call Maxine kitrak. I never knew what it means. Is it captain?”

“No. Kitrak is similar to leader, yes, all kitrak lead. But not all leaders are kitrak. Not all captains are kitrak. What is human word? Admire? Respect? Kitrak is all these things.”

“Huh, you never called me kitrak before.”

“Haha, that because you weren’t kitrak.”

“And now I am?”

“Careful. Humans only take so much praise before head explodes. Go. Kak is right. Crege will rest.”

I nodded to him and left, heading back to the mess deck and up to the command deck. I ran aft and hit my cabin, grabbing my ablative coat from its hook and my E2S. I strapped on my PX-2 just to be sure. I was down to two batteries, one for each. I’d have to get more from the armoury. I left the cabin and went down two decks to the forward cargo hold and our makeshift armoury. Already Artemis was putting on the exo-rig again. I grabbed two more batteries and a sword. The two Argen were helping each other don the infantry vests, and had personal shield generators set aside.

“You two going with the Thudguns again?” I asked.

“Yes. Good weapon.” said Denno.

Artemis chuckled.

“What’s so funny, Art?” I asked.

“They like them because they can’t aim.”

“We’re miners, woman. Not soldiers.” said Hergo.

“They play to their strengths and build on their weaknesses. It’s a sound tactic.” I said.

“Well, just make sure they don’t stand behind me.”

“Don’t worry, woman, I wouldn’t dream of shooting you in the back.” said the Argen.

For some reason, that actually caused Artemis to shut up for once. A strange look came over her face for a split second, and then it was gone. Was I imagining seeing remorse on her features? On Artemis?

First salvo of projectiles are 30 minutes from convergence, Acting Captain Donovan.

Thank you, Tac. Keep me posted.

The way I figured it, the first salvo will be just a distraction as well. The nuke will go off, we’ll dodge the kinetic rocks, and then think the second salvo will be the same. That has to be the enemy captain’s plan. If I was wrong, we could be missing a vital clue to avoiding a deadly mistake. I began to have doubts. What were we missing?

A gauntlet was shoved into my stomach.

“Here, loverboy, help me put the last of this rig on. You’re day dreaming.” Artemis handed me the last few pieces of the rig. She still have her gloves and the chest plate to put on, then the external power pack. I pulled on her gauntlets and connected them to the power loom that ran down the arms to the back of the rig. When I was done, I started to bolt the armoured chest plate on. As I was working, Art caught my attention and briefly, our eyes met. She had the weirdest look on her face.

“I’m not the enemy, Seth. I’m sorry about Eric.”

I didn’t say anything, I just kept working. Slip nut over bolt, lefty-loosey, righty-tighty.

“I wish I could tell you everything. You deserve to know.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I stopped and looked at her again. She looked back at me, and looked about to say something then changed her mind. She cast her eyes down. I finished tightening up the last few bolts and then slapped the power pack onto the rear of the exo-rig. The power-on light turned green and she flexed her arms. She gave me a nod and walked up to the sword rack to grab a blade.

“You’re a little light on the armour this time.” she said, pulling one of the axes we’d collected from the Frikk out. She gave it an experimental twirl.

“I want mobility. The M4 is too heavy for that.”

“Going to use your Spatial Translation?”

“Something like that. And Shield.”

“Have you worked out how the nanites do it?”

“The teleport? Yeah, they slide me along a string. I’m not really teleporting, I’m just moving through a different dimension temporarily.”

“Like when we shift through a Jump Gate?”

“Similar, yeah.”

“It’s strange to watch.”

“How does it look?”

“It’s hard to describe. You don’t just disappear and then reappear at the new spot, you just sort of are there. Like you were always there to start with. It disorients the hell out of whoever you are fighting.”

“It disorients the hell out of me.”

“Do you hit harder?”

“Not really, but if someone’s standing where my blade is they end up with it in their guts. I get air movement around me briefly, although I suspect it’s actually because the air is sucked in with me and then added to the new spot, pushing air away.”

I looked around the armoury, and traded my E2S for one of the energy carbines that the Frikk were kind enough to leave for us when they all died. They were not Frikk manufactured, but were solid Corporate weapons. Given to them as payment, no doubt. The Frikk were often mercenaries, and pirates, known for their brutality and warlike nature. If they weren’t given legal work as mercs and bounty hunters they tended to veer towards lives of crime. They were always like this, but they were also loyal. They rarely betrayed those they worked for, and usually honoured their agreements. They had a sort of warrior’s code, much like many Garz’a, only their code stems from a ‘might makes right’ attitude rather than a sense of duty.

Possibly the strangest quirk of the Frikk was that they rarely held grudges. You could kill most of a merc unit and then after the job hire them yourselves. They didn’t see being killed in combat as a slight against the fallen, rather it’s just a part of life. I sort of respected that in them. Made me feel better about killing a bunch of them too.

That thought made me pause. Was that just me talking, or was it some overflow of the nano-proliferation implant? I’d never been so nonchalant about killing living beings before, regardless if they were trying to kill us first. Was I becoming bloodthirsty? Or was I simply becoming pragmatic about killing? What was worse? Just one more topic to bring up with Zoe during our next session, I suppose.

I was glad it would be synthetics we would face now. I didn’t like where my head was at with killing living beings. There’d been too much death on board the Dreaming for my liking. Too much blood had seeped between the deck plates. I was mentally drained, all of a sudden. With the depression came a physical exhaustion that robbed me of much needed vitality. I’d felt this sensation before. It came during campaigns in the Star Marines when you found out you’d be back on the line once more, particularly after a heavy fight the day before. It was akin to resignation, that you could be about to end it all in a painful death, or become crippled for life. You became detached from those around you, they were just people who were about to die as well, no sense associating yourself with the pain of losing friends.

I could see the others looking at me. I tried to offer a smile but couldn’t stomach it right then. There was a despair in the faces of the Argen, they were seeing their leader starting to crumble before them. Art looked me in the face and walked over to me, her heavy boots making a dull thud on the deck. She grabbed my shoulder and pulled me close enough to whisper into my ear.

“Use your Repair paradigm. They need to see you pull it together.” she said.

I nodded and called up the paradigm. My bloodstream flooded with nanites, converting fats and non-essential material into sugars, synthesising dopamine and adrenaline.

“Whoa, Jesus.” I mumbled, stumbling against Art’s exo-rig.

“Get it together.”

“Right. I’m good. Thanks.” I gave her a nod and turned to the others, “We should be facing another stealth pod, like what we fought back in Argessi System. Standard compliment is around fifteen synthetics. Last time were simple assault droids, not much chop against seasoned fighters like Crege and I, but there’s no reason to believe they won’t use more advanced synthetics this time. They probably figure we’d only fall for this trick once, so this is the captain of the Xerxes’ only chance to recover the package, and with it his bonus pay, I bet.

“Well, fuck him. No bonus today. Artemis and I will spearhead the counter offensive when they come. You two are on defensive fire patterns. That means you split up, flank the enemy and take targets of opportunity. If you can’t hit any enemy, hit their cover. Those Thudguns can offer a small amount of crowd control to our options so go hell for leather. If one gets through our attack, fall back and try to stop it getting away. We want them contained. They’ll head for the engine room to try and disable the ship, or the command module to kill everyone in there. Including my girl. So if that happens I’ll be very put out, understand?”

They all had a chuckle.

“They’ll be coming in on our starboard side, as we’ll be juking to port as the shells reach us, so we’ll use the next twenty minutes to get as much cover to the port side as we can. As soon as we’re hit, Fel will remotely seal all hatches and slow down any intruders enough for us to get to them. The cargo hold is probably the most likely place they’ll hit, so let’s start here. Any questions?”

“What are the chances the boarding pod will be shot down by those synthetics we welded to the outer hull before?” asked Denno.

“Slim to none. They’ll use nukes to blind our sensors right before the pod makes its approach. Our only advantage is that they think they’ll be catching us unprepared. If we can get to the attachment point before they exit the pod, we’ll ambush them. Let them spill out a little and then hit them all at once with as many Thudgun blasts as we can. They won’t know what hit them. All right, we got twenty minutes. Let’s get these crates stacked!”

My confidence was returning, and I hoped it was rubbing off on my men.

“Don’t worry, loverboy, I’ll protect you.” said Artemis as she punched my shoulder.

“And who’ll protect you?”

“You will. You got my back, right?”

I sighed and nodded. “I guess I do.”

37.

We had only a brief window to get ready. We stacked up cargo crates into overlapping cover, and ensured that there was no cover to be had on the starboard side of the hold. The mess deck was a different matter. The best we could hope for was to unbolt the tabletops and unsecure the stools. I got the Argen to haul a few crates up from the hold and we would use those for cover. Maxine had given me an earful last time we used the mess tables for cover. Crege and I had to spend a couple of hours repairing them after our tussle with the Spear of Orion back in the Argessi System.

Sooner than we had hoped Tac announced that the shells were five minutes away from reaching us, so I left my motley crew of boarding defenders and headed back to the command module. The plan was to disperse the crew across several compartments prior to the attack. This would mean we had less of a chance of being wiped out should the boarding pod penetrate the hull in one hit, which was possible. It may give the enemy precious seconds to cut through the hull and disgorge the synthetics into our ship, but with the hatches between compartments sealed we could easily make up that time. In addition, I needed to be in the command module to get the bigger picture before I go help repel them. If I had misjudged the enemy captain’s plan I needed to be able to respond as the situation developed.

Zoe had asked me earlier what our chances were of avoiding the boarding pod, why risk letting it board us if we could add more distance to our manoeuvre and clear it all together. Fel and I had explained that with the massive acceleration that the pod was capable of, we’d have to thrust pretty hard to port to even have a remote chance of avoiding it. We’d lose our nanite net and we’d probably not have enough thrust to avoid it anyway. The best bet was to ambush the ambushers and turn the tables on our attackers.

I entered the bridge as the others were preparing to start our lateral burn to port.

“We’re as ready as we’re going to be.” I reported.

“I took the liberty of informing our absentee Captain of our situation. In case any boarders knocked on her door, that is.” mentioned Fel.

“Has she ever done this before?” asked Zoe. She looked a little more confident, her shaking had stopped and she was more relaxed now.

“No, but she took Eric’s death pretty hard. They’d spent most of their lives on this ship, you have to remember. Pretty much the closest thing to family she has.” I explained.

“Besides you.”

“True. But even Fel’negr only joined the Dreaming a couple of years before she got captain from my father. Eric was crew before Max joined.”

“It just seems so out of character for her, though. I thought she’d be pushing all that aside and soldiering on, especially considering our circumstances.”

“It…does seem a little belligerent of her, yes. But she believes in us enough to get this out of her system. She’ll be right in no time. She probably figures she’ll be a liability to us if we leave her in command right now. If she broke down while we were depending on her it would be worse than if we just didn’t include her in the chain of command at all.”

“I suppose I can see the wisdom in that. A little.”

“What our interim leader fails to mention,” offered Fel, “is that Maxine also knows that Seth is up to the task. She has faith in him to stand when she cannot.”

“Well…I wasn’t going to talk myself up, was I?”

“Endless effort, endless humility, endless modesty.”

Acting Captain Donovan shows unusual guile and cunning for his species. His chances of success are higher than anyone else on board the Dreaming of Atmosphere, given Captain Cooper’s incapacity.

“Thanks, Tac. I think.”

You are welcome. 27 seconds until convergence.

“Here we go. Just like we talked about. On my mark apply thrusters to port, seven seconds of burn then level out. Roll to port eleven degrees as well. Should present the boarding pod with our cargo hold…okay, engage manoeuvring thrusters.”

Zoe began to apply burn through our manoeuvring thrusters and the ship began to slide to port. Fel must have been going through concentration exercises with Zoe while I was gone, because she was handling the ship excellently. She was breathing steadily through her nose and mouth. A slight wildness to her eyes was the only indicator she was frightened.

“Here they come!” said Fel, “Detonation detected! Gamma rays are blinding our sensors. Shields holding. Alpha particles and neutrons detected scattering on our hull. Minor damage to the nanite net, but it’s repairing already.”

Sensors were down for 2 minutes 42 seconds.

“That’s their window then. Next round will be it. Any other detections?”

“Negative, the others appeared to be kinetic rounds, just as you predicted.”

“Tac, time to second convergence?”

31.2 seconds.

“Okay, twenty seconds – we thrust to port again. Same deal.”

The countdown ticked down to eleven seconds, then Zoe hit the thrusters once more. A slight nudge of the control stick and we tilted slightly. I grabbed the PA mic.

“All hands! Brace for impact!”

“Detonation detected! Another nuke! Sensors down!”

Suddenly the ship was hit by something hard that shunted us slightly off course. A great metal clunk reverberated throughout the ship.

“Hull breach detected! Aft cargo hold!”

“Art, Hergo and Denno! Prepare to repel boarders in aft cargo! I’m on the way!”

I got up and gave Zoe a quick kiss on the head before running off, Fel calling out for good luck. I ran aft, headed down the ladder well to the mess deck and slid down the ladder well rails to Deck 3. I caught the tail end of one of the Argen dashing through the hatch to the aft cargo hold and chased after him, readying my energy carbine.

We’d restored lighting to the hold after repairs had been finished in there, so there was ample light. We’d pulled as many of the cargo containers as we could out of their secured spots and dragged them to the port side of the hold, but there was still several large containers spaced around the hold. Even with Art’s powered exo-rig we couldn’t move them without dropping gravity from the compartment, and we just didn’t have time to spool the grav-plates down and then up again in time to fight. I’d rather we had gravity, and give the enemy a few pieces of cover.

It didn’t take much to find where they were attached. Luckily the pod hadn’t punched clean through the hull, we still have about forty five seconds before they could cut their way through the plating. We gathered around the circular hole the synthetics were cutting away, setting up overlapping fields of fire. Art and I were in the centre, with the Argen on either side of us. There was a small kill zone in front of the hole, not the largest space but better than nothing.

“We give them three seconds to pile out and then we hit them with everything. They’ll probably keep pushing, so I want us all to fall back after the initial barrage to that clearing we made in the middle. Get your head down into cover, but make sure you can see at least one of us still. Ready?”

They all nodded grimly. We watch the last metre of inner hull get cut, as the bright sparks flew out of the glowing edge towards the deck. When the burning cut got to the bottom it suddenly stopped and there was a moment of silence.

Clank!

The newly cut hatch was smashed to the deck and a hunched metallic form barged out of the hole. The synthetic was huge, easily two and a half metres tall, and the same again wide. It had hunched up to fit through the hatch, an armoured shield held before it like another chunk of hull plating. As it barged out a personal shield winked into existence as well. A small, glowing red optical sensor could be seen peering through a slot in the large shield. It was on two legs, with a tail behind it for balance and it moved with a shuffling gait.

“Hergo, Denno, hold your fire! Art, we draw its attention!” I yelled. Our two rapid fire energy weapons hammered into the shield, but were deflected harmlessly off it and onto the deck. Little glowing red patches remained where several rounds hit the same spot. It did the trick, however. The hulking synthetic stomped its way over to us and when it was only a few metres from us, I called out to the Argen.

“Thudguns! Now!” The Argen fired their guns at the robot’s flanks, bypassing the giant shield it held. In seconds the energy shield popped with a flash and fizzle, and several concussive blasts hammered into the synthetic’s armour. The shield was yanked from its upheld appendage and I got my first proper look at it.

The monster was resting on short, squat legs that bent backwards and rested on haunches. Its central mass was a great barrel like affair, a solid armoured plate with several glowing red optical sensors spaced at different angles. It had three arms, one which had once held the giant shield, now a sparking dangle of torn wires and squirting hydraulic fluid, the others ending in large grasping claws. There was no head, the upper body simply ending at the barrel torso.

“Look out!” called one of the Argen. I dived to one side as a volley of hard light projectiles flew right at me. Over the giant robot’s shoulder flew a dozen small, bat shaped drones. Where I lay I could see through the big synthetic’s legs and saw a cloud of even smaller buzzing drones spew out of the boarding pod.

“Tranq-drones!” called Art. Shit, we were in trouble. Tranq-drones were exactly what they sounded like. Small drones about the size of your fist that could deliver a sedating shot of a drugs that would knock you out in moments. Riot police were fond of using them. The other flyers were rapid firing security flyers. Nasty in swarms, and deadly in close confines. Unless you had Thudguns.

“Thudguns on the flyers! Fall back towards forward cargo!” I ordered. The big synthetic swung a mighty fist in my direction, in a great arcing downward haymaker, but I activated Spatial Translation and appeared at the top of a nearby cargo container. I unleashed a barrage of shots with my carbine, but they mostly just petered out on the armour bulk of the synthetic. From my vantage point I could see several regular sized assault synthetics file out of the boarding pod and disperse as my allies fell back and gave up ground.

The two Thudguns pounded into the swarm of tranq-drones and flyers, taking down half of their number in a matter of seconds. This caused the assault synthetics to home in on them as the highest threat. I had to intervene before Hergo and Denno were hit. A quick glance at Art showed her engaging the giant synthetic in hand to hand, her strength bolstered by the exo-rig, and she seemed to be holding her own, so I leapt across to another container and jumped down onto the backs of two synthetics. I crashed down hard, completely smashing one and causing the other to collapse in a heap of twisted metal and flailing limbs. I finished it off with a three round burst at close range.

Two more synthetics rounded the corner and before they could get off a shot I sent a blast of Ionise into them both. Lightning played over their chassis and they shuddered and jittered about. Sparks flew out of one of their optical sensors as it popped, and I opened up with a barrage of shots to take them out. I rolled backwards and to the right as several projectiles hammered into the container bulkhead, fired from a flyer drone that had me in its sights. I brought up my nano-shield and repelled another several shots from it as I returned fire, knocking it out of the air.

More synthetics were piling out of the boarding pod. I checked the Argen I had moved to assist, and made sure he got to cover, then translated to the roof of a container again. I saw the flash of a shield go out about fifteen metres away in the direction the other Argen had run. I leaped over to another container and almost got my undercarriage shot off by a quick reacting trio of synthetics that were traversing between the containers. I kept running, dashing across two more containers before I saw Hergo (I think) hunkering down behind a couple of crates. Four synthetics were pinning him down with fire while another moved to flank him.

I shot a blast of Ionise at the flanking synthetic and then leapt at the four firing ones. As I arced through the air a couple tracked their fire upwards to intercept me. Before the first one reached my shield I translated again and landed behind them, spinning as I appeared and stitching dozens of shots into their backs. The synthetics were unable to adjust their tactics, unable to compute what had happened. The last one went down in a hail of gunfire still firing blindly into the crate that Hergo hid behind. He popped up and fired a blast at the shuddering, paralysed synthetic and sent it smashing into the bulkhead like a bucket of tossed nuts and bolts.

“Seth!” he called, pointing behind me. I felt a sharp pain in my shoulder and twirled about, throwing a tranq-drone off my back. I felt a warm numbness spreading about my shoulder. I fell to my knees and my head began to swim. On instinct, I sent nanites flooding through my blood stream and activated the Repair paradigm.

I could hear my heart beat, and the blood rushing through my ears. It was like a deep drum beat. Boom, boom, boom, boom. I was dimly aware of someone dragging me to cover, and I could make out bright flashes of light and colour.

I must have blacked out completely because next thing I knew I was staring down at Artemis’ arse, my head banging against the exo-rig frame as I was carried. I flailed about and she dropped me in a hurry. Art swung about and fired off several shots, and two rounds caught her rig. I could smell burning metal and heated lubricants. Hergo was with us, he grabbed my head and gave me a shake.

“Seth! Wake up!” he said.

“Amright. Waddapened?” I had cotton mouth and my tongue was swollen.

“We’ve lost the aft cargo. We’re falling back to the forward hold. Denno is trapped inside. We can’t get back in to find him.”

“Gotta get him!”

Art turned and gave me an angry glare. “Did you not hear him? The hold is lost, we have to hold them here.”

“No, let me up. I’ll get him.” My head was clearing, fast. I could feel my nanites eating up the poison drifting through my blood.

“You’re mad. They’ll cut you down.”

“They can try. Hold this position.” I looked around and saw we’d moved into the forward cargo hold, as they said. We’d set up a secondary fortified position here, with several nests of cover leaving a wide killing ground before the hatch to the aft hold. I’d lost my carbine, so I drew my PX-2 with one hand and unsheathed my blade with the other. Already I could see a plasma cutter starting to work on the sealed aft cargo hatch.

Didn’t matter, I didn’t need to use the hatch anyway.

I ran towards the bulkhead, and leapt at it, activating my Spatial Translation again. This time it felt different, as I moved through 5th or 6th dimensional space. I slipped through the bulkhead molecules like they were nothing but a wall of confetti. I popped out the other side short of breath and my head spinning again. I looked around and saw that I was exposed, but the synthetics hadn’t spotted me yet. There was seven assault robots and the large one waiting to get through the hatch, while a flyer worked a cutting torch.

I took aim with my PX-2 and shot the flyer square in the chassis, blowing it into pieces. As one the synthetics turned and fired, and several shots hammered into my shield. I dived to the side and rolled, coming to rest against a cargo container. A dark shape suddenly blocked the bright lights overhead and I saw the big synthetic flying through the air, both claws bunched into fists ready to pound me in to pulp. No such luck.

I teleported to the top of the container, and rolled to my feet and dashed aft towards the rear where I last saw Denno running for cover. I picked him up immediately, his wireframe outline appearing in my Tactical App, linked up to my overlay as he was. I leapt over another container but had to teleport across a large open gap to another side. He was prone, and wasn’t moving, but my overlay listed him as unconscious only. A tranq-drone must have gotten him too. I looked around for more of the drones, but it looked like we’d managed to take care of all the flyers and drones.

I looked behind me and saw the last cargo container I’d jumped from suddenly get shoved aside as the large synthetic barged through it. This thing wasn’t going to let up. I took aim and fired a double tap at the thing’s optical sensors, managing to pop one. It continued its charge and would have smashed me off the cargo container if I didn’t translate to another one. I took aim again while it looked about in confusion and shot another optical sensor. That appeared to madden it further. It flailed about, tearing crates free and sending them flying. It tossed one directly at me, but I jumped aside and took a running leap across to another container roof. I fired from the hip but missed hitting a sensor.

“Come on, you metal bastard!” I called, firing at the thing repeatedly as it hunkered over towards me. I hit another sensor and it whirled about in confusion. There weren’t too many more left. It had to cant itself sidewise to see straight ahead, and I started to strafe the thing keeping to its blinded side.

It started to twirl and spin, swinging wildly about. I timed my move and slid in under its reach and slashed with my blade into its knee joint, severing a cable of some kind. Sparks flew from the joint, showering me with hot metal swarf. I translated back out of reach and watched it tetter about on its damaged leg. I shot out another sensor and kept moving. It seemed to be slowing down so I turned and ran back towards Denno.

I jumped down onto the deck beside his comatose form and sent my Repair nanites into his body. With luck, it will wake him up sooner. I scooped him up into a fireman’s carry. He was heavy, most Argen are stockier than humans, with heavier bones. I stumbled a few times before I had his weight balanced, then started to thread my way forward towards the forward cargo hold bulkhead. When I got to the wall, I could see the synthetics had broken through and made their way into the next compartment.

“Tac! Show me the forward cargo hold!”

A camera image appeared in my overlay showing me the compartment. Art and Hergo had fallen back as the synthetics had moved in under fire. Somehow the synthetics had managed to avoid the fire from pair, and had used the opening to rush the duo. I could see the remains of one synthetic scattered about by the aft bulkhead. They’d hit one at least.

I noticed that Hergo wasn’t returning fire, he must have depleted his last battery. There were six synthetics still attacking, using the cover left behind by Art and Hergo. I slipped Denno to the deck and propped him against a crate. He was beginning to stir. I checked my charge levels in my overlay, I was still only just below half. Plenty of juice to finish this. I ran towards the open hatch and counted to three. I was just about to swing around and open up on the synthetics’ exposed backs, when the ship lurched to the side suddenly. I was thrown off my feet and a loose crate crashed into me, knocking the wind out of me. I scrambled to my feet, wheezing for air. What the hell was that?

“Bridge! Report!”

Drones! Came Fel’negr’s text. That one shell that didn’t have guidance? It burst a few minutes ago directly ahead of us and it had a swarm of drones in it. Zoe’s doing her best, but we’re taking fire.

I could suddenly hear a scattering of blasts strike the hull, but I couldn’t hear the tell-tale whistle of a hull breach. I caught my breath and peered around the hatch into the forward cargo, only to see the last few synthetics scamper up the ladder well to Deck 2.

What the hell? Why isn’t the mess deck hatch sealed? I texted to everyone.

The hatch has malfunctioned, Acting Captain Donovan. Reported Tac. 5 synthetics have reached Deck 2 and are proceeding aft towards Central Control.

A malfunctioning hatch? Now? I thought about chewing out Mal, since it his job was internal maintenance, but thought better of it. He’d been through enough already, and his added workload since Eric died probably forced him to prioritise his tasks. Things break. Deal with it later. I ran towards the ladder well, firing my PX-2 trying to hit the last synthetic, but didn’t manage to score any hits.

Art popped her head out from cover and almost shot me, but saw who it was and got up to join me.

“Get Denno! He’s just near the hatch!” I called. I had to text the rest of the message as I was out of earshot. The big synthetic is nearly blind in the middle of the aft hold if you want to finish it off.

I do. Thanks, loverboy xx

I poked my head over the top of the ladder well and saw the synthetics moving aft. I sprang up and moved quickly to cover and fired into the rear of the last two robots. One had no shield and was shot to pieces by my first two rounds, but the others were dissipated by the shield of the second. It turned to shoot, but I’d already ducked behind the crate. I translated to the other side of the compartment and fired repeatedly at the synthetic that I was now flanking. Just like the others, it couldn’t comprehend what had happened and didn’t move to defend itself. In moments it was nothing more than a pile of smouldering spare parts.

I swung down the passageway and ran after the others, firing a shot at the disappearing form of the 3rd last synthetic. I hit its shield but it took off around a corridor bend. I kept running and come around the corner and was hit in the face by a metal appendage. I recoiled and fell backwards as the synthetic swung another blow at me. I raised my sword to catch the strike, and kicked its legs out from under it. As it fell and tried to right itself I leaped up and went to chop downward at the robot. It caught my stroke on its shoulder and lost an arm, but managed to get itself up. It fired its good arm at me, which still had the energy weapon on it. I spun aside and swung my sword as I twirled, bringing it down across the neck joint. The head unit flew aside, smashing into the bulkhead. The headless, one armed synthetic flailed about firing randomly for a few seconds then collapsed. I saw the last two synthetics disappear around the next bend. The Central Control compartment was just around that corner.

I took off at a run once more, then teleported to the bend, firing as soon as I appeared. As before, there was a synthetic waiting to delay me, but I appeared past the corner and was on the far side of the bend. It fired at the empty space as I fire directly into the droid’s torso. Its shield had failed in the previous gunfight, and I made short work of the lightly armoured unit. The last synthetic had already gone into the engineering control room.

I peered around the corner and yelled out for Mal.

“I’m here!” I could hear him, from the upper mezzanine. He was crouched behind a flow control console. Below him was the last synthetic, an interface cable had telescoped out of its left arm and into the propulsion control console. We were too late! All it had to do was send a single command and it could lock us out of the engines. We could undo the work, but the lost acceleration would mean the end of us.

But I could still hear the engines thrumming steadily.

As I approached the last synthetic it made no move to defend itself. It just stood there, one arm outstretched to the console, a black cable connected to a hard line access port.

“What the…” I asked no one in particular/

Do not be alarmed, Acting Captain Donovan. The synthetic has been infected with a virus I planted in the console to prevent direct unauthorised access.

“Tac! Brilliant! Why didn’t you tell us?” I asked, jubilantly.

I did. I wrote the virus when I calculated their chances of reaching Central Control at being higher than 74%.

“When was that?”

17.3 seconds ago.

“You just wrote a virus that could undo a synthetic AI? A military grade synthetic AI? In less than twenty seconds?”

Correct. It was only a rudimentary virus, I only had to cause it to shut itself down. There was no permanent damage to the synthetic’s programing and will be fully functional if manually activated again.

I shot the synthetic in the head, then cut the cable loose with my sword.

38.

I didn’t have long to catch my breath. No sooner had I cleared the last synthetic from the engineering room then I heard the clanging bangs of drone fire hit the outer hull once more. I sighed and headed for the command module.

Zoe and Fel were in the middle of an argument when I arrived.

“…we’ll lose too much speed, we can’t evade!” Fel was explaining.

“I can’t shake them, they’re boxing us in. If I don’t manoeuvre again they could take out our propulsion or worse.”

“It’s too risky, we have to trust the point defences will do their job.”

“What’s the situation?” I asked as I threw myself down into the captain’s chair.

“The unguided shell went on ahead after it went wide, and we almost forgot about it until it popped open and deployed ten drones. They waited until we were near enough and then attacked. Tac destroyed two so far with those point defences we bolted to the outer hull, but we’ve taken some damage.”

“Any breaches?”

“Three, all minor. Your cabin took one, the starboard nacelle took the other two. Mal has the nacelle isolated and airtight. Your cabin door is leaking a little oh two, but life support is handling the pressure with no problems.”

“Show me the drones, Tac.”

My console showed a radar display and an optical video side by side, with the swarm of drones framed by red squares. They’d broken up into three separate groups, and were heading towards us from the rear in a juking motion. I could see bright streams of small arms fire rippling towards them, but they were too far away for accurate attacks. They appeared to be hesitating, probably calculating our point defence fields of fire before making an attack run again.

“Did we ever get that last interceptor working?” I asked.

“No, Mal reports that it’ll need some specialised components to get functional again.”

“Yeah didn’t think so. Okay, looks like they’re gearing up for another attack run.”

“We need to start manoeuvring again.” said Zoe.

“No, Fel was right. We can’t afford to shed any more speed. Where did we mount the Rotary Cannon?”

The synthetic wielding the Rotary Cannon was attached to the outer hull above the command deck, 3 metres aft of the beamer.

“Thanks, Tac. Okay, when they start their next run, we’re going to angle the ship north ninety degrees, and engage manoeuvring thrusters on the upper hull…thrusters twelve through fifteen. Disengage the ion drive before we tilt, and give us point five gees of burn on the thrusters. Tac, can you track which direction the largest number of drones pass us on, and provide tilting directions to Zoe as they go pass so that we continue to present our upper hull to them?”

Certainly, that will ensure we give the Rotary Cannon maximum time to engage the drones.

“I don’t know if I’m up to it, those sound like some pretty precise manoeuvres…” said Zoe.

“Precise movements are what you’re good at, Zoe. Just like surgery or repairing cybernetics, just keep your hands firm, but not tight on the controls and ease into the turns.”

“Seth is right, Ms Ward. This is child’s play compared to some of the things I’ve seen you do with your hands. Focus on the controls and the instrument readings, ignore the visuals and the optical sensors.”

“Okay.”

“And remember to breathe. Just like I showed you.”

Zoe started to breathe deeply and exhale through her mouth in long sighs. I could see her calming already.

The drones are beginning another attack run.

“Okay, disengage Ion Drives, point us at north nine zero.” I said.

“Ion drive disengaged, turning north.”

“Too far, bring us back down ten degrees.”

“There. Burning manoeuvring thrusters twelve through fifteen. Point five gee thrust.”

“Good job, that’s spot on.”

“Here they come.” reported Fel.

Rotary Cannon firing, tracking fire.

I could see a steady stream of fire spewing forth from the Dreaming. At first it was a steady rhythm of fire, but in seconds it sped up as the cannon’s barrel spun up to speed. The line of fire was almost a continuous beam as the drones got close enough for accurate fire. Tac stitched the beam onto the closest trio of drones, and the rapid fire tore into the first one and it disappeared in a burst of fast moving debris. The second and third we hammered into pieces seconds after the first went. Tac shifted fire to the next trio, but the drones had gone into rapid spiral patterns to evade the fire. Tac started to spray a pattern of fire into the swarm, and it wasn’t long before a bright flash and scattering components told us another drone was destroyed. The remaining four reached us and their small weapons spewed out bright green flashes and rapid projectiles raced towards us.

“Hold position!” I called as Zoe instinctively started to swerve the ship to avoid the fire. Her slight movement caused the Rotary Cannon to become even more inaccurate and the drones started to overtake us. The rapid hammering of their shots could clearly be heard in the compartments behind us.

On Zoe’s display appeared a series of turning instructions and a visual indicator. Zoe started to follow the commands. She was fairly close, but her inexperience was clear. She overshot the turn and we lose acceleration as we veered off course. She also forgot to shut down the thrusters and we lost a few gees of thrust for a few seconds before I overrode the controls and re-engaged the Ion Drive.

One of the side mounted synthetic chassis’ managed to hit another drone and it spiralled out of control spewing random shots from its weapon.

“Damage report!” I called.

“Hull breach detected in the command deck passageway. Mal is sealing the Deck 2 ladder well.”

The Rotary Cannon has been destroyed.

“Damn. How is life support handling the breach?”

The breach will require sealing within 9 minutes 47 seconds before the passageway becomes unable to support life.

“Okay, I’m sending Hergo up to work on it.” I grabbed the PA mic, “Hergo! Hull breach in Deck 1 passageway. Get on it!”

“Drones are coming about, another attack run!” reported Fel.

I gripped the console before me, and sent my nanites into the system as I started the interface program that Tac gave me. As before, dark organic cables grew out of my arms into the console, pulsing with a dark green energy. I gasped as my senses were nearly overloaded. Before when I’d done this, all I had access to was the optical sensors, but now I had the whole gamut of sensors at my disposal.

How can one explain it? It was like opening my eyes for the first time. I could see and sense so many different bandwidths of light, read radio and radar pulses, I knew where everything was within several hundred thousand kilometres at once. I could feel every pit and every scar on the ship, I could feel the steady thrum of her ion drives pushing us ever forward. I could control every aspect of the ship at once. I was the ship.

The drones were ahead of me, braking hard and swivelling on their axis to bring their weapons to bare. As the first shots left their barrels I saw which way they were headed and with a minor effort of will put the ship into a spin that caused all the shots to miss us. As the drones had shed enough speed, they sped past us again. I ignited the manoeuvring thrusters as they passed, spinning the ship in a sudden spiral and knocked two drones with the trailing edge of the aft cargo hold. They fell apart as if they were nothing but snowflakes.

The last one turned about and accelerated hard, and in that brief moment when our speeds were equal relative to each other, Tac let loose with several blasts from a pair of P291 point defences. It exploded in a flameless burst of components and gases.

I slumped back in the chair, suddenly yanked free of the intoxicating power of being one with the ship. My mind was aflame with possibilities and sensations. I was dimly aware of Zoe climbing over her seat to get to me, and Fel was holding me down as I flopped and spasmed about. I couldn’t bring my mind back into my body. I couldn’t control my own senses! I was lost in my madness and everything vanished in an exploding cacophony of sounds and a blinding flash of light. Then there was darkness.

39.

The sea of data was once more my sanctuary. The trillions of data motes were faint sparkling dots in the dark waters, the only source of light in this place. The warm waves pushed gently at my body as I floated. The water was salty and sweet at the same time, refreshing and fulfilling. I began to drink, great mouthfuls of gulping data. I put my face down into the ocean and let the water flood my mouth, sending it down my throat and into my stomach. I drank and drank, an unquenchable thirst, an unfathomable desire to consume.

I was suddenly very full, I couldn’t swallow any more, but I had to! I couldn’t breathe, I needed to drink instead, as if I were a fish. Only I couldn’t get more water into my body. I began to choke and drown. I flailed about and tried to gasp for air but there was too much water. I awoke with a gasping start, sitting up quickly in the bunk.

As usual, when I wake up after being out like this I was in the med lab. Crege was watching me from his bunk, and Zoe was near him taking a reading on a device. My head throbbed and my jaw muscles hurt, like I’d been chewing for hours. I could feel bite marks on the insides of my cheeks. I had a pounding headache and a generally dusty feeling, as if hungover. I groaned and lay back down, a little too quickly for my hammering head. I fought a wave of nausea, swallowing weakly a few times.

Zoe had walked over to me and was scanning my head with a small hand held device. It emitted a quiet high pitched tone that warbled like a drunken baby bird. I squinted at her but couldn’t make out if she was mad at me or concerned.

“What happened?” I managed to say weakly.

“You suffered a grand mal seizure. Then you fell into a coma. You pretty much had a total burn out in your nano-proliferation implant.”

“Am…am I ok?”

She sighed and lowered her device, looking at me for the first time. I could see she had been worried. “This time. Your brain temperature rose to dangerous levels to compensate for a lack of charge and most of the electrical signals in your head were scrambled, hence the seizure.”

“I’m sorry, I checked my levels and they seemed fine.”

“Yeah, I took readings off your implant while you were out. Whatever you did there at the end was too much for you to handle. It wasn’t a paradigm, that’s for sure.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

“Look, I understand we had a need. The risk was worth it, to you. But you can’t keep running yourself into the ground like this. I’m scared for you. You don’t have enough control to put yourself through this kind of drain all the time. Your body needs time to recover, to renew and heal.”

“You’re right. I just dove into it without a second thought. I took over from you and Fel, just took over the whole ship and did what I thought I had to. Maybe we’d have been able to fight off those last drones without me doing that, but I find it hard to just take a back seat when shit goes down. What if something happens, to the ship, to the crew or to you and I could have prevented it by acting.”

“Were you like this in the Star Marines?”

I thought about that before I answered. “Yeah, I guess I was. It’s probably why I was so torn up when my squad was lost. Even my best wasn’t good enough to save them.”

“And you feel that you must be better next time, so it doesn’t happen again.”

“Yeah, that does sound like something my screwed up brain would think.”

“You sound like a Garz’a.” she said.

“There is no higher honour!” called Crege from the far side of the compartment.

“Enough about me. How are you?”

“Shaken. Tired.”

“You did really well. I mean that.”

“Warrior has seen combat pilots spew facing lesser foes, little human, you can count yourself among the brave.” Crege offered.

“Thanks. I was so scared. Fel took me through some breathing exercises and something he called roto-cota or rata-cota…”

“Rato-tekota. It means ‘still mind’ in Orlese. One of his Way concentration techniques.” I explained.

“It really helped.”

“That’s Fel, calm in the face of anxiety and tension.”

“Warrior strongly recommends little human not play cards with Fel.”

That brought a smile to her face. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“So, what about me? Am I confined to med lab with the cripple?” I asked.

“Ertak, et kar ka do, burbak!” called Crege.

“No, if you’re feeling up to it you can go rest in your cabin. I’ll be checking in with you every couple of hours, though, to make sure your brains haven’t leaked out of your head.”

“That’s all?”

“That’s all. You need rest. So do I.”

“All right, can I take anything for this headache?”

“Only light painkillers.” She offered me two little heaven sent tablets of mild pain killers. I downed them with a gulp and a mouthful of water from an offered glass. She helped me stand, and walked me to the med lab hatch. She lingered at the entrance, and I turned to face her as I went to leave.

“You should talk to Maxine.” She said.

“Yeah, I guess I should. You sure you’re okay?” She nodded. “You need to talk, don’t hesitate.” She nodded again. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.” She smiled and closed the hatch and I wandered through the passageway towards the mess deck. All around me were the signs of my recent gunfight, dozens of hard light holes and the occasional synthetic part that had rolled into a nook or gap in the deck plates. I rounded the last bend and entered the mess deck proper. Tables were still overturned and stacked aside. There was more debris from the fight; no one had started to clean up the area.

I remembered I hadn’t stopped to find out how Art and the Argen were doing. I quickly checked the cabins and found one of the Argen asleep.

“Tac, where is Artemis and the other Argen?”

Artemis Derris is on watch, along with Fel’negr. Deck Hand Hergo is assisting Engineer Cutler in the starboard nacelle with some repairs to the propulsion.

“Propulsion? We took a hit there?”

Engineer Cutler reports minor damage, but there is only minor loss of capabilities. Should I request a thorough report of damage to the system?

“Yes, please. Have it sent to my overlay for review.”

Certainly, Acting Captain Donovan. Might I also express my pleasure at seeing you active once more?

“Thanks, Tac. Walking around seems to help, somewhat. Still fell like someone’s taken to my head with a mallet at some point.”

The Heavy Assault Synthetic was dealt with rather masterfully, I might add.

“The big robot? Did Art manage to put it out of commission?”

Ms. Derris did indeed destroy the synthetic. She made short work of it once you had blinded it and crippled its mobility.

“I haven’t seen one that big before. What was it?”

An Overt Assault Support Synthetic, model OASS-2398. Manufactured by the DonCrest Galactic Corporation on Restus Station. I believe the common vernacular for this particular model is the Ogre.

By then I’d reached Deck 1 and started towards the command module. The command deck was littered with debris also, although most of the mess was from broken bulkhead fittings and overhead cabling runs and pipes. There was still the heavy scent of burning plastics and the chemical smell of polycrete foam in the air. The hatch to the command module was open and I could see Fel and Art in there.

As I entered I cleared my throat, causing Fel to look up from his systems console.

“How are you feeling, Seth?” he said, smiling at me.

“Groggy. Alive.”

“Good to hear.”

“What did I miss?”

“Not much. After your little stunt with the ship we were pretty much in the clear. You gave Ms. Ward a hell of a fright.”

“Yeah, I bet.”

“She’ll need to be chastised for leaving her station to tend to you, but overall she did very well as the pilot during our recent battle.”

“I noticed.”

“Did you tell her?”

“I did.”

“Good, you’re learning.”

“Very funny. How about you, Art?”

“I live. Few bruises and burns, hurt my shoulder again. You didn’t leave much of that big synthetic for me to smash.”

“Yeah, figured you needed an easy win.”

“I regret to inform you that your lovely exo-rig was trashed. Sorry.”

“I could never get my arse to sit right in it anyway.”

“It fit my arse just perfectly. I’ll miss it.”

“I noticed. While you were hoisting my over your shoulder, I had a great view of your posterior.”

“Tsk. Tsk. Flirting will get you everywhere, lover boy.”

“Sorry, I’m taken.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t break up your marital bliss. Made a promise to your absent Captain.”

“I remember. Fel, did Mal give any reports of damage to the bridge?”

“Not really, but he did mention that we’ll be at less than full propulsion for a short while until repairs are completed. I turned off the scoops and switched to local fuel for now.”

“Did he mention what got damaged or how long repairs will take?”

“I believe his exact words were ‘a while’.”

I rubbed my chin, and realised I was very tired and couldn’t think too deeply right now. Why was Mal being so vague about the damage?

“Tac, is that report ready?”

Compiling it now, Acting Captain. Should appear in your overlay shortly.

I waited until I could see the file download into my overlay. I accessed it and scanned through the report. Several hull breaches, repair times listed next to each. Aft cargo port side breach sealed after the pod was cut away, the rest filled with polycrete foam and awaiting EVA to apply a nanite skin and weld plating over them. The beamer was still out, that would have to be a priority soon. One of the starboard generators was offline due to a secondary explosion from battle damage. We had two of the point defence synthetics left that we’d welded to the outer hull.

“Tac, where’s the propulsion report?”

There was no damage reported to the propulsion.

“But you told me Mal and Hergo were working on the starboard nacelle?”

Correct. Perhaps Engineer Cutler forgot to add it to the report when I compiled it.

“Can you ask him about it? Actually, never mind, I’m going to go down there and see for myself.”

“What are you thinking, Seth?” asked Fel.

“Something doesn’t add up. Remember I ordered all the hatches secured before the shells converged? The Deck 2 ladder well was wide open. Something about it malfunctioning. Don’t you think that would have been mentioned when I gave the order? The Central Control hatch was open also. Mal was up on the mezzanine when I got there. At first I thought he’d run up there to hide, but now I’m not so sure. How would he know the mechs were on their way to him?”

“You think Cuts would sabotage the Dreaming?”

“Maybe not that, but he was always against running from the Corporates. I hope he’s not trying to get us caught.”

“That would be catastrophic.”

“I wouldn’t like that either.” agreed Artemis.

“If he is, I’ll space him.” I said. I meant it, too.

“That’s not how we do things on this ship, Seth.” chided Fel.

“Screw that, if he’s fucking with us, he needs to be put down.” offered Art.

What would Maxine do? I wondered once more how Max would handle this situation. Would she punish Mal, or give him the benefit of the doubt? We’d all been through a lot lately, and everyone has their breaking points. But without Eric to balance Mal’s hatred of me, perhaps he’d finally had enough and decided to take matters into his own hands. I couldn’t let him jeopardise the crew, if that were the case. Max would put the crew before any one crewman.

“Tac, are there any camera feeds within visual range of Mal?”

There are three, however they all appear to be non-functional. Perhaps they also suffered battle damage.

“Yeah, unlikely. What do you think, Fel? What would a practitioner of The Way do?”

“Lying is done with words, but also silence. To what end would Mal darken those cameras if he did not wish us to see what he was doing?”

“How long can we sustain thrust using only our fuel system for the Ion Drives?”

Current tank levels and reclamation rates indicate we have 9 days 22 hours and 47 minutes of continuous thrust remaining.

“Less than ten days…”

The Trifurcated Ion Drive that the Dreaming of Atmosphere used included three main ways of providing fuel to push the ship along. There was the main method, pulling in molecules from space using a magnetic net, or scoop. There was the puff drive section as well. Lastly, we could use the ship’s water supply to break the water molecules into oxygen to feed the life support system, and the hydrogen can be used as fuel. If we used up all ten days’ worth of water we’d have no water to drink, and we’d lose the oxygen boost to our life support. We would need to ration our fluids, and attempt water reclamation protocols. I really hated drinking reclaimed water. Just thinking about it reminded me of our last visit to the Corus Cluster. There was no way we could stop at the Jump Station before entering Gossamer, and I doubt there would be much time at the other side either.

If my suspicions proved true, Mal could introduce a fault into the Ion Drive that would pretty much guarantee we would have to stop at the Jump Station. We could make it to the Jump Gate, but we’d run out of water before we came out the other end. That meant we’d need to slow down. Which meant the Blade of Xerxes would have a chance of catching us.

We could just push on through, though. That was always an option. We’d need to ration our water now, and watch how we consume water in other areas. The human body can survive for days without water, but I wasn’t sure about Argen, Orlii or Garz’a. We’d need to dock with the Protectorate Station on the other side of the Gossamer Jump Gate to top up our water, but I don’t like our chances of filling up fully. They’d be hesitant to part with any resources in that system. The Protectorate was more likely to just give us enough to get back through to Eridani System and send us back the way we came.

Besides all the logistics of water consumption, if we lose one third of our propulsion methods, it would make it far easier for Mal to sabotage another part of the system and force us onto using the puff drive. That would ensure we lose enough acceleration for the Xerxes to catch us. I’d have to make sure, before I go accusing Mal. Maxine would need to be informed.

“Time to wake the Captain.” I said at last.

“Be sure in your presumption. The Captain knows of your past with Mal.”

“Tell me I’m seeing things. Tell me I’m bullshitting myself.”

“I can’t. Your logic and the evidence that supports it are sound. It’s not a conclusion I would have come up with, but we have to deal with this considering what’s at risk.”

I sighed and nodded my thanks to him. Then I turned and left the compartment, walking with a heavy step towards Max’s cabin. My head still throbbed, but at least the nausea had abated. The analgesics that Zoe had given me were working, but I was still in a world of pain. I didn’t need this, right now. What I needed was rest.

I knocked on the hatch combing and waited. I didn’t hear anything so I let myself in. The cabin was dark, and smelled strongly of spirits. I walked in and closed the hatch, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the gloom. I could make out a few shapes in the compartment after a few moments. I could hear Max turning over in her bunk, and started towards her. I’d gotten a few steps forward when I heard her mutter something.

“Sorry? I didn’t catch that?” I asked.

“Careful. Broken glass.”

I looked around on the deck and thought I could see the glint of glass in places. I decided to wait a little bit more and wait for my eyes to adjust better. Max must have gotten impatient with me just standing there because I heard her sigh and she turned her bunk light on. She was half sitting up, looking haggard and tired. There was the glass of several broken bottles on the deck, and dark stains of alcohol on the light rug she keeps in the cabin.

“What happened?” I asked.

“Crazy driver caught me unprepared.” Oh, I remembered the manoeuvring that Zoe had done.

“We have a problem.”

“You have a problem. I still have several hours left on my holiday.”

“I think we’re being sabotaged.”

She said nothing for several moments, and I was about to say it again when she sighed and sat up fully, rubbing her eyes.

“Coffee. Black. Lots of sugar. Then we talk.”

As Captain, Maxine’s cabin ranked a few luxuries the rest of us didn’t have. Such as a mini-bar, refrigerator, and a small kitchenette. I carefully stepped over to the coffee machine she keeps there and slipped a few coffee pouches into the small unit. I grabbed what looked like the cleanest two mugs that were resting in cold, murky sink water and rinsed them out. When the coffee was ready, I filled the two mugs and added a few sachets of sugar to one and a whitener tablet to the other. I turned around to catch the rear half of a naked Maxine dashing into the shower unit. I almost dropped both mugs and only managed to spill a bit on my hand and burn myself.

Wow, for an old girl Maxine was still pretty fit.

“What was that?” she called through the steamy haze that emanated from the stall.

“Er…nothing.” Shit, must have just blurted it out. I have mentioned I’m pretty stupid around naked women, haven’t I? Even older naked women, apparently.

She finished and reached around the sliding door to grab a towel. I dutifully started towards the other side of the compartment, gazing longingly out the porthole near her desk. I heard her moving over to the table and I turned around and offered her the coffee. She was rugged up in a bright pink fleece bathrobe, her hair up in a towel.

“That’s a good look.” I said.

“I know you perved on my arse.”

“Just making sure you hadn’t drank it off.”

“What did you think?”

“Not bad for a woman in her seventies.”

“Fuck off, I’m in my forties, you cheeky shit.”

“Late forties.”

“Whatever. Christ, I’m hungover. Or still drunk. Hard to tell.”

“Want me to get Zoe to give you something?”

“Hell no. I earned this pain. Bought the ticket, gotta take the ride.”

We were silent a few moments, just drinking out coffee. I did me some good too, I was still under the weather, somewhat.

“You look like shit.” said Max, breaking the silence. I chuckled.

“Yeah, had a rough run these last few hours.”

“How did we do? We got boarded again, I could hear it. Fel popped in and warned me too.”

“Synthetics, nasty ones. They almost shut us down, but Tac had a card up his sleeve in the end. That was Zoe piloting, by the way.”

“No shit? That girl is getting mighty useful. We should keep her.”

“No complaints here.”

“How much do I need to know?”

“About the saboteur?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I’m going to give you all the things I’ve found and let you come up with a suspect.”

“You have someone in mind, though?”

“I do.”

“Okay, what have you got?”

“First thing – we were being fired on by the Xerxes and had a plan hatched out to deal with it, we knew were about to be boarded so I ordered all deck access hatches and compartment hatches sealed. When we were assaulted a few droids managed to get through to Deck 2 from the forward cargo hold. The Deck 2 hatch was open. Listed as malfunctioning. There was no faults on that door at the start of the assault.

“Second – the Central Control room was also unsealed, and the compartment wasn’t guarded. The occupant on station was hiding on the mezzanine…”

“Mal…”

“It may have saved his life, I’m not willing to count that last part as evidence, merely circumstantial.”

“He should have been monitoring power levels.”

“Yes, I don’t know what he was doing up there.”

“Okay, what else?”

“Third – we took some damage from drones, Tac provided me with a damage report, however Hergo and Mal are currently enacting repairs on the scoop system. We’re running on tanks, but there was no reported damage to the system they’re working on.”

“Are there cameras in that section?”

“Fourth – the three cameras with access to that compartment are all listed as ‘non-functioning’ even though Tac reports there to be no faults listed with them either. Running on tanks will mean we run out of water before we enter the Gossamer System. We’d have to slow down and dock with Gossamer Station before shifting.”

“If that bastard turns me into a puffer, I’ll space him.”

“So much for an impartial hearing.”

“Why would you think he was doing it?”

“He was always against standing up to the Corporates. Eric was keeping him in line, I guess.” A dark shadow passed over Max’s face as I mentioned Eric. I felt bad about it, but she needed to hear it.

“You think Hergo is in on it, too?”

“They do seem to be getting along, but I don’t see any cause to believe he is. He’d believe whatever Mal told him about the engines.”

“No reason not too, I suppose. Okay, you have me worried. Now what?”

“Well…I was hoping you’d step in.”

“And shoot him myself?”

“No, I mean this will rip the crew’s guts out. Morale will plummet. We gotta do this with kid gloves.”

“Who else knows?”

“I used Fel as a sounding board, and Art was within earshot.”

“Fel I trust, Art I believe wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise the mission.”

“My take as well.”

“There isn’t too many other people left, Donny. They’ll deal with it.”

“What if I’m wrong?”

“What if you’re right?”

I pondered in silence for a few moments, sipping my coffee.

“We’ll have to catch him red handed.” I said, finally.

“Or prove without a doubt. I’d rather not have to fire someone who may just be the best damn hull repairman the Dreaming’s had in decades.”

“Denno’s not too bad with a nanite patch and welder.”

“He does ugly, but functional work at best.”

“Functional is better than non-functional.”

“How is he with propulsion systems?”

“No good.”

“How are you?”

“Better, but I’m no engineer.”

“So, what are we going to do?”

“I was hoping you’d had some experience with this. How have you dealt with trouble crew before?”

“I’ve left a deckhand behind on purpose, just left the station a few hours before we said we would. Didn’t want him staying behind and trashing the ship just to spite me. But nothing as bad as active sabotage.”

“In his own twisted mind, he probably thinks he’s saving us. He still could be, for all we know.”

“Bullshit, I know we can do this job. I know you can.”

“Thanks, but that’s not a solution. Mal thinks we’re better off facing the Corporates and handing over Artemis. So far they’ve used mercs, drones, nukes, boarding pods and intimidation to try and get us to stop. I doubt the Corporates will just thank us for being good citizens and send us on our way.”

“All right, we need to find out what Mal is doing to my ship. Can you get a vid-drone in there? Or one of your nanite friends?”

“Vid-drone, maybe. I’m on stand-down as far as my NP is concerned. Burned myself out earlier. Doc says I’m supposed to be in bed right now actually.”

“I’ll get Fel to work on something, then. Tac can fill me in on what I’ve missed. You go get some bunk time. I think we might just wait and see what Mal has in store for us. Maybe we can just work around him until we’re clear of this mess. Maybe try isolate him from the systems for a bit. Anything we need repaired that’s not near the engines?”

“The beamer. We need that up and running soon. Might as well bump it up the priorities list.”

“Good idea. I’ll order his arse on EVA and get him fixing that first. Just leave the drive on tanks for now, until we’ve found out what he’s trying to do. Maybe this is all just a misunderstanding, but I’m not putting the rest of the crew at risk on an assumption.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. Max was back.

40.

With Max back on duty, taking care of yet another problem that had reared its ugly head, I was able to get some decent shut eye. My cabin was a mess, several rounds from the drone attacks had gone through the compartment and had messed up my locker and the shower stall. I quick check revealed that my M4 MAEL suit was trashed, a round had gone through the bulk of the armour and a short fire from the damage had eaten most of the combustible material. Thankfully, my bunk was undamaged. I checked the airtight integrity of the cabin and when Tac reported it was safe I threw myself down on the cot and was asleep in minutes.

When I awoke, I felt much better. No head ache, and no aching muscles or burns. It was then that I realised I’d gone pretty much the entire gunfight in the aft cargo without suffering a single hit. Whatever my misgivings I’d had with nano-proliferation weeks ago, it was hard to argue with results. I just had to get my charge usage under control and I could see this technology bringing my game to the next level. Crege was right, however. I needed to make sure that I didn’t rely on it too much, or let it make me too confident. I needed an anchor, someone or something to remind me that I can fail. Not for the first time in recent weeks, I found myself holding my Star Marine medal, my thumb rubbing absently along one side. This is what I needed.

I rummaged through the wreckage of my locker and found an old container I’d kept some mementos in. Inside was a titanium chain link I used to keep my dog tags on. I threaded the medal onto the chain and slipped it around my neck. I tucked it into my jump suit and ran my hand over my chest, feeling the solidness of it beneath the fabric. Yes, I mused, this was what I needed. My anchor. It was fitting, as the medal itself bore a stylised anchor wreathed in flames.

I left my compartment and headed for the command module. I’d slept nearly a full half shit day, and was eager for news. I could tell by the fact that I’d not been woken by the Dreaming manoeuvring heavily that we’d not been fired upon again. The hatch to the command module was open, and I could see Denno on watch with Maxine.

I sat down at my usual station and brought up a status report on my overlay. I saw that the beamer had been assessed and that work was scheduled in the next EVA cycle.

“What’s new?” I asked ask Max greeted me.

“I’ve filled Denno here in on what’s going on, with Mal. He’s going to check to see if Hergo is in on it.”

“What do you think, Denno? Is Hergo capable of this?”

“I do not believe that Hergo would betray his Captain, or this ship. Remember what I said about our culture? I’ve met Argen who do not follow our tenets closely, but Hergo has never been one of those people. If he is assisting Mal to sabotage this ship, it is without the knowledge of what he does.”

“You think Mal could talk him into doing the wrong thing?”

“It is possible. Hergo has always shown an interest in engines, as a hatchling, and Mal and he share common interests. He is not the brightest kid, however. It is possible that he is being misled as to the purpose of the work he undertakes at Mal’s behest.”

“What is Mal doing now?”

“Sleeping.” said Max, “but I’ve got him doing shifts on EVA, along with Hergo. They’re getting the polycrete foam lattice put up around the hull and working on the beamer, which is almost repaired. We’re running pretty low on foam, by the way. We can’t take too many more hull breaches and be able to plug them quickly.”

“We got enough to finish the lattice?”

“Just. Then we’re rationing it.”

“How about the rest of the contingencies for railgun shells?”

“Zoe let Crege make his way up here to program the auto-response manoeuvres. He complained about someone adjusting his seat, but I could tell he was thankful to be back in the chair. Think he was going crazy cooped up in med lab all this time.”

“How’s he doing?”

“Zoe said it was a bad wound. Any worse and she would have had to install a cybernetic prosthetic.”

“I didn’t know we had any of those on board.”

“We don’t. Crege would have been one legged until we got into port.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah, that little bit of news has Crege playing nice with the Doc. I’ve never seen him so compliant while injured before.”

“Remember what he was like with Doc Gallows?”

“Ha! Roderick threatened to resign three times while he was our medical officer. All three were right after treating Crege.”

“Remember when we did that job on Acheras Orbital?”

“When Crege shot his own foot?”

“I swear Crege was going to kill Rod for removing the rest of his foot.”

“I told Roderick to hide in the aft cargo until he calmed down. We got so involved with placating Crege, and then we had that leak in the Imodium tanks, that I clean forgot about Roderick until the next day. Poor Rod was still hiding in a container when I remembered to go get him. Ha, ha! He wanted to be let off the ship at the next port, he was so pissed.”

“Doc Gallows was the medical officer before Zoe?” asked Denno.

“No, we hired on an ex-paramedic from Golus for a bit.” I said.

“Caught him taking hits from our medical stores, cycled him out the first port we pulled into. After that we wanted someone a bit more…professional.” explained Max.

“So anyway, enough of the side tracking. What else is going on?”

“I’ve got Tac watching our nanite net anchor points, making sure no one thinks that letting the trail go will force us to surrender to the Corporates. We don’t have enough nanite containers to fix that sensor net too many times either, so I hope they don’t think to send us into high-gee manoeuvres too often.

“The scoop is still offline. We’re letting Mal think we’ve bought his story about repairs, and I’ve started water rationing. From now on, all toiletry and ablutions are to be performed in the Deck 2 starboard heads.”

“My shower is out of commission anyway.”

“Showers are limited to 90 seconds per wash, once a day maximum, so make them count.”

“Please tell me we’re not reclaiming potable water.”

“Not yet, but if we don’t resolve this in the next few days, we will be.”

“God, I hate reclaimed water. I’m still thinking of that water treatment plant we climbed through back on the Cluster.”

“You and me both, Donny.”

“How’s Fel’s investigation going?”

“So far, he’s sent a vid-drone in to document all the work being done. He placed scanner nanites amongst it about ten hours ago. We should see more on what’s going on in a one ship day. Engines aren’t Fel’s forte, so he’s got Tac to go through all the data and cross reference it with any known fault conditions and issues that may justify the work being performed.

“We’re giving Mal the benefit of the doubt?”

“For now. Innocent until proven guilty. Whatever his actions, I still don’t believe he’d do something like this out of spite. I just wish I knew what his end game was.”

“It’s got to be the water tanks. Surely.”

“That’s my current train of thought. We’ve dropped a probe inside all the tanks to monitor the pressure in real time and I changed the codes a few hours ago. The new codes should be in your inbox on your overlay. If he was going to do something, those codes won’t stop him indefinitely, but it should force him to get creative if he wanted to flush our water out into space.”

“How’s your head?”

“Sore. I’m definitely not drunk any more, but I’m not one-hundred percent either. I wanted to let you both know that I won’t be taking any more leaves of absence again. I’m sorry I let you all down when I did.”

“Nonsense, Captain, you left us in very capable hands.” said Denno.

“I’m very proud of you, Seth. You’d make your father a very proud man.”

“Thanks. I had a great teacher. I also had a great crew. If you’re up to it, I’d like to give Eric a proper farewell today. A sending off from aft cargo.”

“I’d like that very much.”

“I was thinking of holding a little ceremony, we can all say our goodbyes and then we can shoot him off towards the Eridani star.”

“How?”

“Our last interceptor is just about beyond economical to repair. I’m going to pull the propulsion out and program it to fly straight to the star with Eric’s casket bolted on.”

“Eric would have loved to go out this way.”

“Yeah, I thought you’d approve.”

“Let’s do it. How about we do it tonight, head on up to the mess deck afterwards and hold a short vigil.”

“No drinking?”

“No drinking.” she agreed.

“All right, I’m going to head on down to forward cargo and get to work. I’ll let you know when I’m done, and we can let everyone else know.”

I got up and left the compartment, heading aft and down to Deck 2. I found Zoe in the mess deck nursing a cup of tea and staring off a thousand miles away. I decided that Eric’s funeral preparations could wait a few minutes, that the living needed care first. I sat down at the table, noting that the mess deck had been restored to relative comfort once more. She smiled as I sat, and I could see the tiredness in her eyes and a hint of sadness that yanked on my heart strings.

“Hey, princess.”

“Hey, Space Daddy.”

“How are you holding up?” I reached across the table and encircled her hands in mine as she held her warm mug.

“Tired.”

“I can see that. Have you slept?”

“Not since yesterday.”

“Want to talk?”

She smiled again and took a sip. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.”

“Uh oh. That sounds ominous.”

“It’s this trip. It’s taking more out of me than I’d thought it would. I don’t know how you do it.”

“I just take it one day at a time. I’m here for you, anytime you need me.”

“That’s just it, I can’t just rely on you all the time. You have so much on your plate already, even if Maxine is back with us. You’re like this great rock that we all hold onto when the waters get too rough. I don’t want to be one more person hanging onto you when everyone else needs you as well.”

“Zoe, you’re my rock. My head has been so screwed up these last few years, it’s only with you that I’ve managed to unscrew it. If there is any time that you need someone to hold onto, I’m there. I never knew how much I needed someone until I found myself needing you. If anything, it’s me that holds onto you.”

We sat in silence for a while, just holding hands across the table. I wasn’t sure if what I was saying was sinking in, so I got up and walked around and sat next to her. I put my arm around her and she leaned her head against my shoulder and just enjoyed each other’s company. After a while, she realised she’d finished her tea and was holding a cold empty mug. We got up, she to return her mug to the auto-chef, me to head down to Deck 3. I kissed her and told her to get some rest, and she gave me a smile that made me feel better about her state of mind. The sadness was still there, but there was hope as well, and a warmth that I could only describe as love.

I was reminded then, of how young she was. She was still in her early twenties, and close enough to her official age, biologically, that there might as well be no difference. Up until a year ago she was living a life of academic comfort, safe and peaceful on Kanto Prime. I’d hardened myself to the dangers of being an ‘active’ operator in space, but she was closer to what we called a civilian. Were the stresses we’d dealt with and the danger we’d faced these last few months, along with what we were yet to face, going to affect her as they had affected me? Were we responsible for stripping away her innocence and hope?

As I mused, I’d travelled down to the forward hold and found myself once more before Eric’s casket. Here laid a man who’d given it all to the life. A true Nomad of the stars, no home, no place besides the Dreaming of Atmosphere. Was this where I was to end up? In a casket in the cargo hold, awaiting burial in space? Was this to be Zoe’s fate as well?

Now that I’d felt I was in the right frame of mind to be working on organising a funeral, I got to work. I hauled our one remaining Interceptor back to the armoury and began stripping it for parts. I would soon have a coffin rocket fit to take my friend right into this system’s sun.

41.

We were all gathered in the aft cargo hold in a semi-circle before Eric’s casket. We’d cleared space around the aft loading airlock, and the coffin rested on a wheeled trolley ready to be taken into the airlock when we were finished. Artemis has volunteered to remain on watch, diplomatically removing herself from the ceremony. We’d gathered a few minutes ago, and milled about making small talk until I cleared my throat and asked for silence.

“Chief Engineer Eric Thackeray was the oldest person I knew. I’d met older people, sure, but I’d never really known them. When I say I knew Eric, I mean it in every sense of the word. We never truly know someone until we’ve seen inside their souls, their very essence of what makes a man, or women, themselves. Knowing, as it stands, is very much the same as accepting them, for their good and their bad. When you really know someone this way, you can’t help but love them.

“I remember when I first began to know Eric. I was thirteen years old, and he was showing me how to strip down a catalyst module in Central Control. Only an hour ago I’d been told that my father had been gunned down in a bar fight in the station we were parked at. Everyone expected me to just run to my cabin and cry. I did, but I didn’t stay there. Eric came and got me an hour later. Just opened my door and walked in, telling me I was late for the day’s lesson. I’d raged at him, called him a bunch of names, but he just stood there and took it all then when I was finished he told me these words.

“He said ‘You’ve lost a father today, not the ability to do work. If he were here, he’d kick you in the arse and tell you to get on with your lessons’. I replied then that because he wasn’t here he couldn’t tell me to go. He smiled at me, put his hand on his heart and said ‘But he’s here. In you. And he is telling you.’

I placed my own hand over my heart. “Well now Eric is here, too. And he is telling me that we’ve only lost a friend, not the ability to finish what we started. The closest bonds we will ever know are the bond of grief, the deepest community one of sorrow. His passing has made us closer than ever, for we share the pain of his loss, we feel together his absence.

“We have a part of ourselves in here with Eric’s remains. A part of our life. How much we each invested of ourselves in this man we now send into the cold abyss of space. He has no home but the stars, and to the stars we send him. This casket will take Eric to the heart of this system, and there he will forever remain, but also, he will forever remain within our hearts.”

I nodded to Denno, who stood beside the airlock controls. He pushed a button and the inner airlock door opened. Fel and Denno then wheeled the trolley into the airlock, lowered the casket to the deck and returned with the trolley. When the airlock was sealed, they cycled the air out of the airlock.

“We remember you, a friend

for we hold you in our hearts.

You live on, memory,

forever the Dreaming’s son

We give unto you, a son

for of the stars are we made

Our bodies, our form,

are but borrowed star matter.

We bid you farewell, a brother

for now we must part awhile.

Stars await, o’ Eric,

your journey lies before you.”

With a solemn nod, I gave the signal for the outer airlock to open. Gravity was removed from the ‘lock and gradually the casket rose and drifted out into space. The small propulsion system fired, taking the casket away, and soon it was nothing more than a speck in the inky blackness of space. The casket would take years to reach the Eridani star, decades at least. One final grand tour of space before being consumed by the star.

I looked over at Maxine, she was standing tall, her proud bearing a testament to her enduring strength. She looked after the casket long after it was gone from sight, and then she turned to me and nodded. We all went around the compartment and hugged, or shook each other’s hands. Even Mal looked me in the eyes and took my hand. We retired to the mess deck, and spoke quietly amongst ourselves for a while, reminiscing about Eric’s life and where it intersected our own. I became aware of Mal acting very strangely. I could see that the ceremony had affected him deeply. I knew they were close. He kept glancing over at Maxine, he was pale and was visibly shaking after a while.

It was perhaps an hour later, just as we were thinking about parting and retiring for the night when he cracked. Fel, Zoe and I were talking together by the auto-chef when we heard a great sobbing cry escape Mal, as he virtually threw himself before Maxine.

“Forgive me!” he cried, “I have betray us!”

Everyone stopped what they were doing, no one said a thing as Mal continued his cry.

“I have lied, and drawn others into my schemes to undo us!”

“Tell me, now, what it is you have done.” said Max, a steely gaze upon him.

“I lied about the engines. I decoupled the converters in the starboard nacelle to make it look like we had damage. I thought that we were making a mistake in not surrendering to the Corporates! Honestly, I believed I was doing the right thing! I can’t continue to do this, Eric wouldn’t even dream about doing what I did. Please, you have to understand I did this to save us!”

“What else did you do?” she said.

“I deactivated the deck seals when we got boarded and left all the hatches unlocked and then left my post so the synthetics could shut us down. I lied to Hergo, to get him to help us. He thought there was a calibration error in the nacelle, he was innocent in all this.”

“Why tell us now?”

“I can’t keep it up. Not now. Not continue and honour Eric, not this way. I cannot!”

Everyone just looked on, too stunned to speak. Even though I’d guessed what he was doing, to actually hear it confirmed was still a shock. Max just keep looking down at him, I could see she was trying to get angry at him, but in the end she just looked defeated.

“Get out of my sight. You’re confined to quarters.” And just like that, he left.

Hergo looked stricken. Denno was trying to tell him it wasn’t his fault, and Hergo was trying to apologise to Maxine, but she just walked out of the compartment and headed up to Deck 1. I thought about going after her, but Fel grabbed my arm and shook his head. We sat down at the table, where the two Argen were also sitting and gathered our thoughts.

“Seth, I would have never helped him if I knew what he was doing…” Hergo started.

“I know, Hergo. Denno vouched for you, we were giving you the benefit of the doubt.”

“You knew?”

“We suspected. A few things didn’t add up.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“We couldn’t, we had to get evidence first.” offered Fel.

“At least we can recover the scanner nanites, now.” I said.

“When it’s dark, look for stars.” said Fel.

Zoe spoke up for the first time, putting her hand on Hergo’s arm. “No one blames you. We still love you, just like yesterday, just like this morning.”

“I’ve betrayed you, my crew.”

“You had no way of knowing that.” I said.

“Regardless, the deed was done, despite my lack of knowledge of it being performed.”

“He feels he owes a debt, a result of our upbringing, I’m afraid.” said Denno, “We Argen are very hard on ourselves when we commit a wrong, knowingly or not.”

“What could I say or do to make it better?” I asked.

“Very little, but to offer penance for him to repay. Much as I disagree with this fault, I understand his reasoning.”

“Please, I will do anything to atone.” Hergo said.

“Okay, you can get Zoe, Fel, Denno and myself a coffee.”

“A what?”

“Oh, a tea for me, please.” piped in Zoe.

“And me, too.” smiled Fel.

“But…this is not enough.” he said.

Denno turned to face him. “They have made a request, are you to dishonour yourself further by refusing them?”

“I…no, but this does not make up for…”

“Are you also now wiser than they, for judging the level of their outrage at your betrayal?”

“No, but I…”

“You have been given a task to complete in penance for your wrong doings. Even now, you dawdle about like a newly hatched. Is the task too great for you? Should you beg for a lesser task, perhaps one more fitting to your grovelling?”

“I…” he sighed and stood, bowing low at the waist and wandered over to the auto-chef. He placed our orders and walked back with a tray of hot drinks.

“We forgive you.” I said, smiling and raising my mug in salute.

It was going to take a lot more than a cup of coffee to forgive Mal, though.

42.

We were saved from too much navel gazing by the announcement that the Blade of Xerxes had fired another shell. By now, the Corporate beast had closed to only sixty three minutes of lead time, and our sensor readings of the round were inconclusive, if not outright useless. We closed up on stations as soon as the call went out, all of us back to business in the command module, except Crege. The pilot’s chair sat empty, and as I entered the compartment Max gestured for me to take it.

“I don’t want you connecting with the ship, too soon since your last episode. Just fly us like normal.”

“Aye, aye, Captain.” I took the seat and adjusted it to suit my size. I flicked the controls and brought up additional displays. The default view simply shows the forward and rear optics as well as radar and a few other sensors. I could populate seven displays with data or views. Crege usually tried to give himself a wide view of the one hundred and eighty degrees forward of us, the rear view and a few sensors. He said that he trusted the rest of us to give him the bigger picture, that extra information was only a distraction. I preferred slightly more sensor data than he did, and less of a wide view. I configured my display to show me a wider rear view than forward, and populated the remaining displays with all the sensor data I could put up. I also made sure our beamer was charged and the controls were on my last display.

“Who’s in engineering?” I asked.

“Hergo.” replied Max.

“He know what he’s doing?”

“Not really, but he can plug any leaks and put out any fired back there, that should be enough. Tac will be monitoring power distribution this time.”

“We were lucky we found him, you know.”

“Tac? It’s a he now?”

“It’s easy to think of him as one of the crew,” offered Fel’negr, “We rely on him as much as any other.”

“I suppose you’re right. You hear that, Tac? You’re a boy.” said Max.

Applying a gender designation to me is unnecessary, but thank you.

“It means you get to stand up to pee.” I said, laughing.

I am certain such advantages are lost on me, First Mate Donovan.

“And you don’t always have to be so formal, Tac. You’re part of the crew now. You get to give us all nicknames that we hate.”

“Like Donny.” said Max.

“Yes, like Donny.”

Very well, meatbags. I shall refer to you using names I have chosen to represent you.

“Er…meatbags?” Fel asked.

Too much, oh hairless one?

“Yeah perhaps tone it down a notch or two. Think terms of endearment, names that would mean something to us and we’d find amusing. Like when Crege calls Seth here human, and Ms. Ward little human.”

I believe I understand, sifu.

“Very good, your knowledge of ancient Earth languages is excellent, and I can see where you would refer to me as a teacher.”

Actually, I’m referring to the Garz’an word for a species native to their homeworld. The sifu is a small flightless bird that is prone to fainting during times of distress and emitting a foul odour to deter predators.

“I’m…er…”

“I think he’s joking with you, Fel.” Max said, laughing.

The Captain is correct, teacher. I have learnt much from you in my time on board the Dreaming of Atmosphere. It has been an honour to assist you in your mission.

“I wasn’t aware you were developing a sense of humour. That is great news.”

I have been observing the crew interact for some time. You are more jovial than my former crew, more familiar with each other. I find pleasure in listening to you joke with one another.

“Okay, so now that you’ve had time to watch us, and learn our personalities and so on, how would you recommend we deal with our betrayal?”

You are referring to Engineer Mal Cutler? Cuts? That is a difficult question. I believe the only wrong answer is one in which neither side walks away having gained anything.

“Explain.” said Fel.

It is undeniable that people make mistakes. The true wrongness in making a mistake is that people don’t always learn from it. They are doomed to make that mistake again, or at least something similar.

“What Mal did was hardly just a mistake.” I said.

I wasn’t referring to what Mal has done, I was referring to how we, as a crew, deal with it.

“Okay. How should be we deal with it, then. So that we don’t make a mistake.”

Whatever course of action you take, from here on regarding Mal Cutler, if it turns out to be the wrong action at least make sure you learn from it.

“I think I understand what he’s saying,” said Max, “He means that whatever we decide to do with him, it may still end up being a mistake. But so long as we take that on board, we won’t have actually done anything wrong. But back to your original comment, about gaining something, how would we gain something?”

Both the crew and Mal can gain something from this. First we must analyse Mal’s motives for his betrayal. He stated that he acted in order to save the crew, not destroy them. In light of his overt dislike of then Acting Captain Donovan, any decisions that were made would have been coloured by the fact that it was Seth who gave them, not you, Captain. Yet a crewman who doesn’t follow the chain of command is a liability. What Mal would gain from this is the wisdom of following the chain of command, regardless of who gave the orders. Respecting the position that gave the order is required, not respecting the man who fills the position.

“And what would we gain?” I asked.

A loyal crewman, for one. Showing mercy to Mal will allow him to learn from his mistakes, and solidify his loyalty to the crew. I do not believe he would attempt such actions again.

“You think we should just let him go back to work? A slap on the wrist?” asked Max, and I could tell she was finding that hard to swallow.

Negative, Captain. The man should be punished. That punishment should not deprive the Dreaming of Atmosphere of a skilled and loyal crewmember, however.

“Strip his shore leave from him, for one.” offered Fel.

“Dock his pay.” I said.

Extra duty shifts, is another.

“I see. Very well. Since you were Captain when he did all this, you’re going to hand it down to him.” she told me.

“Me? He already hates my guts.”

“So there’ll be no more damage to that relationship then. After you hand it down I’ll go see him and let him out of his confinement. A few days should be a good enough time to let him stew.”

Captain Cooper is very astute. He cannot be alienated by you any more than he already has, and but allowing the Captain to release him from his confinement she will endear herself to him even more. He will be grateful for the mercy, and act accordingly.

“You’re rather well versed in psychology, for a deep space exploration AI.” I said.

Ms. Ward allowed me to read her collection of resources on the topic, I have found them quite fascinating.

“Alrighty, kiddos. We have twenty minutes until the shell hits our nanite sensor net.” reported Max.

“Still nothing conclusive on sensors. We’re able to penetrate a few inches through the hull of the shell, awaiting the results from Tac’s analysis.” said Fel.

Readings show that the payload of the shell is comprised of complex electronics. It is definitely not a nuclear warhead or a kinetic round. This reduces the possible warhead types to one of the more exotic rounds.

“So we got the X-2, the Xendrite, the Type G…”

The Zero Point Null Field Warhead, the nano-spore and the exciter module.

“How are we as far as preparation goes?”

The polycrete lattice is completed, the mirror array and transmitter/receiver setup is functional. We are having some difficulty with getting our nanite net remaining undamaged with our gaps no further than 220m, there remains at least a dozen holes in our sensor spread due to minor alterations to our course. The nanites keep colliding and breaking apart. If we were to widen our spread by 43 metres there should be significantly less collisions reported by the nanites.

“We’d also risk letting a Type G warhead in as well.” I added.

“How long do the tears take to repair?” asked Max.

Approximately 47.2 seconds.

“Approximately? That sounds fairly precise.” I asked.

There are several variables to consider when making this estimate. This is the best I could come up with.

“How are Crege’s auto-manoeuvres looking?” asked Max.

I have 14 programed defensive patterns loaded by Pilot Crege. They are all sufficiently cunning to avoid the guided warheads that we are able to detect.

“How many of Mal’s metal debris chaff have we rigged with EM generators?”

They were able to construct 7 sufficiently sized debris devices. We only have 2 cryo canisters remaining, however. Hopefully, the Blade of Xerxes does not carry too many T898 Thermal Lancers.

“Don’t go jinxing us, Tac.” I added.

I am unfamiliar with the reference.

“Never mind. How about the nano-spore? Where are we with that.”

Medical Officer Ward, excuse me, Zoe has synthesised several inoculations and reports that the remaining nanite shots are still several hours away from completion.

“Tell her to give the command staff and herself shots right away, in fact get her up here with whatever she has and we’ll start them. If this round is a spore carrier, I was the ship functional and that means at least her and one of us has to remain un-afflicted.” ordered Max.

Zoe has been notified and reports she is on her way now.

“Run me by the Zero Point Null Field again?” asked Max.

The Zero Point Null Field affects an adjacent dimension, possibly a 7-brane that brushes against our own. The interaction causes massive loss of vibration at the quantum level, effectively bleeding energy from this dimension to the adjacent one. All forms of energy in the area of affect are reduced to almost zero. Kinetic, electrical, gravitational, nuclear, they all simply cease.

“What effect will that have on our ship?”

The Dreaming of Atmosphere will certainly be destroyed, Captain. There are several reactions occurring within our propulsion system alone that require delicate fields to prevent them from collapsing. Not to mention the electrical signals and impulses require to sustain thought and life in your own bodies. I do not believe I will survive the effect either.

“And you’re sure that the beamer will be able to stop the null field from expanding?”

If the Class 2 weapon is fired directly at the warhead during its initial phase of expansion, it should overload the field before it bleeds into the adjacent dimension.

“Should?” she asked.

There is a 13.7% chance that the energy will instead accelerate the field’s Zero Point effect, but it should still reduce the area of affect. There may also be significant visual effects to avoid looking at.

“Okay, Donny, just make sure you don’t miss. How quickly can we identify that field initialising?”

We will have approximately 7 seconds from the field’s initialisation to disrupt the effect before it enters stage 3 eruption.

“One shot. Think you can manage it?”

“With the amount of energy that thing will be emitting, sure. Just hope I won’t be in the middle of any fancy flying while I’m meant to be taking the shot.”

“Just flip controls onto one of Crege’s pre-programmed manoeuvres, the take the shot.”

“Roger.”

“And lastly the exciter module?”

Our shields should be able to withstand several pulses from the LN-12b Excelsior model variant, however the LN-12c will only take two pulses to overload our shields. The third pulse will start causing electrical issues with the ship.

“And we still haven’t come up with a solution to that?”

“Not satisfactorily, no.” reported Fel, “But we do have enough spare parts to replace most of our critical modules should they be affected.”

“My biggest worry is that they overload our shields then pop a nuke off on our arse.”

That is certainly a viable strategy for disabling our ship, Captain.

“Well, at least the radiation won’t kill us outright. We might be able to get Zoe to deal with radiation sickness before it becomes fatal. Is she wearing the personal shield generator all the time now?”

“She is when we close up at stations. She still insists the rest of us should wear one too.” I said.

“Don’t care. All that matters is that she stay out of the radiation if we get bombarded. She treats us and then we do a rad scrub with nanites. We simply don’t have enough shields to go around that will last long enough.”

Just then Zoe arrived at the command module, carrying a small case of syringes. Maxine made a point of checking she had her shield on.

“There are the nano-spore inoculations. Sorry I haven’t had time to make more.” said Zoe.

“Did you give yourself one?” asked Zoe.

“Yes, Ma’am. Right before I came up here.”

“Good. Once we’re all done up here, it’ll be up to you who gets the next batch.”

“I should have enough to get the rest of the crew before lunchtime tomorrow.”

She went around the compartment had injected the shots into our necks. The nanites within the shot should attack any of the nano-spores that one of the warheads can use. These nasty rounds will continue on their paths and act much like a kinetic warhead, only in their way they leave behind nanoscopic spores that reproduce much like regular nanites. These nanites will seek out living tissue and convert themselves in to one of several deadly or debilitating viruses. Tac had told us that they are used on planetary populations occasionally elsewhere in the galaxy. They were border line Class 4 weapons, one of the nastier weapons in the Votus-Eridani Network.

Captain, the shell is approaching convergence. 3 minutes until it reaches our sensor net.

“Okay, Zoe, time to get down below and strap yourself in. Chop chop!” ordered Max. She left without a word and Max called after her to turn her shield on.

“Beamer target acquired, tracking. Solid lock.” I reported.

“Sensors still not conclusive.” came Fel’s report.

“Wait for it…thirty seconds…” said Max.

“There! It’s Xendrite!” called Fel.

“Initiate standard course deviation, two clicks to starboard!” called Max. I juked the dreaming to the right, swinging two kilometres wide of the shell to throw off its internal guidance. The shell detonated, spreading a wave of…something about local space. Suddenly, I felt light headed and gained tunnel vision, my hands began to shake on the control yoke and I thought for a moment I was having another panic attack. I was breathing heavily when I came around, and realised that we’d all suffered a similar attack. Fel was panting as if he’d just run a sprinting race, and Maxine was red faced and sweating.

“What the fuck was that?” I managed to say.

I believe you just experienced a Xendrite wave.

“I thought the polycrete was supposed to stop that?” said Max.

There have been no fatalities reported in the ship, Captain. The polycrete foam lattice was successful in inhibiting the waves from permanently affecting the crew.

“I feel like I’ve been holding my breath for ages!” she said.

“Yeah I thought I was having a panic attack.” I added.

“It was rather unpleasant,” said Fel, “let’s hope they don’t try that too often.”

“I second that.” I said.

“Weapons release detected!” called Fel.

“The bastards are probably hoping we’re all dead, this is probably going to be a boarding pod like the last time. Take it out with the beamer when it gets in range. No nuke blasts to blind us. Should be a clean shot.”

“It would be a pleasure, Captain.” I said.

No need to give up our condition just yet. I just wish I could see the look on the boarding pod occupants faces when they realise we’re still alive and are firing on their pod.

They’ll know then that they can’t get us with that type of shell. I was guessing they wouldn’t be too fussed, they had plenty of other types to screw us sideways.

43.

Life on board the Dreaming once more became a routine. The Blade of Xerxes didn’t fire again for some time, having learnt their lesson when we pulverised the boarding pod they sent following the Xendrite shell. We figured the Captain of the Xerxes was tired of wasting resources on long range shots. The next few would most likely be at mid-range, somewhere between 25 minutes and 35 minutes of lead time. The crew spent that time trying to maintain a semblance of casual awareness. We still kept double shifts on the bridge, and we still kept everything ready in case the Xerxes wanted to test its luck once more, but for the most part we were able to relax somewhat.

I spent my time between visiting Crege and Zoe in med lab to training in the forward cargo hold with Artemis. She’d offered herself as a sparring partner, to fill in for Crege, and as I’d seen her fight I knew she would be a decent replacement for the skilled warrior that Crege was.

Putting Eric to rest was a sombre, but much needed event. As a whole, the crew was doing much better with their morale, but there was still a pall of disquiet among us. The difference now was that we were getting used to it, we were resigned to our fates, whatever that may be. Our attitudes toward Artemis even improved, as if we’d accepted her role in Eric’s death as an unfortunate accident. I knew that was an inaccurate analogy, but I couldn’t find it in me to hate her as much as I knew I should. She’d shared enough danger on this voyage that it was hard to think of her as anything other than a temporary crew member. I could tell that our survival may very well depend on her at some point, it didn’t hurt to ensure she would want us to survive if that time ever came.

The second day after Eric’s ceremony I was in the forward hold sparring with Artemis, and remembered something she had said right before the synthetics had boarded us a few days ago. We were facing off using swords, the standard ship stock that were neither fancy nor refined. They were simple blades with hardened edges, with sturdy hand guards.

I thought that if I could distract her enough with banter I’d be able to get some clean blows against her. The aim wasn’t to kill or maim each other, of course, just to land a blow close enough to give the other pause or to disarm the other.

“So, care to explain what you meant when we were talking in the armoury a few days ago?”

“What do you mean?” she said, as we traded a few strikes, probing our stances and balance.

“You said ‘I wish I could tell you everything.’ What did you mean by that?”

“Did I?” I parried a trio of high strikes from her, then tried to sweep her legs out from under her. She nimbly danced backwards out of reach.

“You did.” I pushed my attack, trading strength for speed, striking high – low – high then thrusting forward with my blade. She parried each and pivoted at the last moment as my tip passed through where she had just been. I swear it snagged a piece of her jump suit.

“What can I say? I say things when the battle nerves hit me.”

“So you do get battle nerves?” I swung wide, she ducked and came up inside my guard with a palm strike that rocked my head back. I disengaged and parried a follow-through attack from Artemis.

“Sometimes. Don’t you?”

“Of course.” I feinted right, and managed to catch her off-guard, clipping her across the side of the head with my pommel. She tumbled back and as I followed a foot caught me under the chin and I saw stars briefly. She didn’t press the attack, luckily, she appeared stunned as well as I.

“That was a cheap shot.” she said, rubbing her temple. We began to circle each other once more.

“So are you going to answer the question?” I said, shifting my feet into a more adaptable stance.

“I guess I meant what I said.” I watched her twist her hips ever so slightly, and shift her grip on her blade in response to my stance changing. I could tell she saw what I was planning, so I switched stance again, putting the balance of my weight further back. This seemed to baffle her, and before she could adjust her own counter I threw myself at her, savagely beating a heavy double strike low enough to cause her to back away stumbling. I almost managed to knock her sword free of her hand, but she was quick. She darted to the side and rolled right, coming up on one knee and almost skewering my thigh as I struggled to shift my direction to compensate. Instead of falling back, like she expected me to, I continued my charge and drove a knee up into her chest. She flew backwards and crashed into a stack of crates. I was a ballsy move, and could have easily been the end of me if I hadn’t judged correctly. I’d been watching how she changed tactics, and saw that she almost always expects her opponent to hesitate when struck, or when they almost make a mistake. I could tell she’d faced many living opponents, but found synthetics more difficult to fight since they rarely fell back when pressed or gave up when out manoeuvred.

Her sword clattered to the deck as she fell heavily into the crates, arms flailing wildly. I couldn’t contain a laugh. I lowered my sword and offer a hand. She gripped my wrist and hauled herself upright. She was breathing shallowly, as if I’d winded her.

“What do you mean, you meant what you said?”

“That I’m not your enemy, despite what you may think of me. I wasn’t the engineer of this mission.”

I eyed her, as she struggled to catch her breath.

“Where did you get your training?”

“All over.”

“Back on the Viridian March, you mentioned you knew about Primacy Star Marine formations. You don’t get that kind of knowledge from ‘all over’.”

“I was a military enthusiast. So what?”

“Bullshit. I’ve seen you fight. You know battlefield triage as well.”

“Careful, you’re in danger of exposing me as a skilled active.” She was referring to the galactic slang term for active operators, like myself and my father. Actives was a term that was used interchangeably with Mercenaries, Bounty Hunters and Couriers, or pretty much anyone who makes a living by putting themselves in the path of danger. Modern day adventurers who ply the star lanes.

“There’s something with this job, and don’t think I didn’t catch you calling it a mission, that stinks of more than just a crime lord’s bid to rescue their long lost uncle.”

“You fight dirty. I like that. I’ll remember next time.”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“Look, I like you. I really do. I wish we’d met under different circumstances, but I have a job to do. I’m good at what I do and I’ll do what’s necessary to get it done. It was a stupid moment of weakness, and I got sentimental. It was sloppy of me, and we both know that that kind of emotional slip can get you killed.”

“Then give me something. Call me curious. I’m a dog with a bone, here.”

She looked at me, and shrugged while sighing. “You can already guess I’ve had military training. I wasn’t always Benedict’s agent, I’m also not exclusively his.”

“Freelancer?”

“Sometimes. Let’s just say that I’m very particular about who pays my bills.”

“That’s not much to go on.”

“Too bad, loverboy, it’s all you’re getting for now.”

“Okay, up for round two?” I sent my nanites into my blood, and activated my Repair paradigm. I felt invigorated, and a slight itching in my leg caused me to look down where Art’s blade had caught me at the end. A bright red stain had started to spread down my leg, at first shocking me. A closer look proved that it was just a long scratch, and had bled more than usual. The paradigm knitted the small wound closed and in no time it was completely healed.

“Got any juice for me?” said Art. I took her hands in mine and sent my nanites into her. She gasped as her blood was enriched and she suddenly got a second wind. “Oh, that is fantastic!”

“Easy, don’t go getting any ideas.”

“Do you realise you could use that to really have some long time fun in bed? You could keep yourself going on and on, all night with that.”

“Yeah, I tend to keep the bedroom and science lab separate.”

“Zoe is a lucky girl.” She was giggling now, as my face got redder.

“I’m not going to discuss my sex life with you.”

“Well, if you’re ever looking for a second partner one night, you know where I bunk.”

“Thanks, but no thanks.”

“Aw…you’re so cute when you go bright red.”

“Look, I’m here to train. You want to duel again or not?”

She kept laughing as she scooped up her blade and began stretching again. In a few moments we were circling each other once more. This time, she was grinning at me like she used to a few weeks back, before things got really serious on board. In a way, it was comforting. Sure, she was a manipulative bitch, and most definitely not a friend, but she had a confidence about her that was alluring. I strangely found that I’d missed her teasing and innuendo. It was right about then, during that train of thought, that I realised she’d undone her jump suit slightly so that a fairly decent amount of cleavage was showing. It was a moment after I realised it that she struck.

Her first blow put me right on the defensive, a low thrust the came as I was mid step. I tried to adjust my balance to counter but she was too fast. I only barely managed to get my guard up in time to parry another lightning fast strike, this time I was on my back foot and off balance. She pushed hard and rammed a shoulder into my chest, and as I fell backwards I saw a neatly executed roundhouse kick soar through the air at my baffled face. It struck me right in the mouth, and sent stars exploding in my vision. I felt, more than heard, my sword clatter to the deck moments before I hit the deck as well. It took a few moments for me to come around.

“Now we’re even.” She said, an evil smirk on her face as she zipped up her jump suit.

“Wow, that was low.”

“What was it that Crege says? It’s not the fanciest warrior who is superior, it’s the one who walks away.”

“Yeah, something like that.” I said as I spat out a mouthful of blood. I think I cracked a tooth as well. I put my nanites to work again, and although my head was still ringing, my fat lip had gone down and the cut inside my mouth was healed.

“Best of three?” she said, still grinning.

“Okay. Now we’ve both had our fun, let’s put a few more twists on the fight.”

“What are you suggesting?” she said, zipping her zipper up and down suggestively.

“No body checks, martial arts or physical contact at all. Steel only.”

“But my body is one of my best advantages.” This time she unzipped right to her belly button.

“But it’s not your only advantage. Put it away, you’re going to get me in trouble, and Zoe won’t let me train with you anymore.”

She made a whip cracking motion with her sword, laughing, but she zipped up anyway. Phew! I though, Focus, Seth! We once more faced off in an imaginary circle. We side stepped and stalked each other, applying subtle shifts in balance and bearing, each of us patiently awaiting the other to betray a hint of their first strike.

Just when I was thinking I was about to make my move, she launched herself at me with a loud cry. I rolled under her as she sailed overhead, I came up, pivoted and swung my blade out in a snaking strike. She met my blade on hers and followed up with three fast thrusts that saw me back pedalling again. I rolled to the left and came up on one knee to meet a downward chop that turned into several repeated strikes and forced me to once again roll backwards. I came up immediately and side stepped, then darted sideways once more as she came in at me with a savage tempo. I could see she planned to keep on the offensive this time, not giving me a moment to thinking about a counter offensive. I changed my defence several times, first evading, then parrying, then rolling right out of the way. She never let up. I watched her attacks for a pattern, a sign that would let me see her next blow, her end game attack. She was good. Maybe better than me, but I had one thing that was clear after several minutes of this. I had experience. Although each attack was executed nearly flawlessly, soon she was running out of different ways to strike at me. My constant drilling and sparing with a far better swordsman than I was paying off.

Then she made a mistake. She used the same attack three times in a row, two high then one thrust. I made sure to meet each one with seemingly weakening resolve, until she began her third attempt. I waiting until her last thrust and pivoted neatly to the side completely evading what before I had clumsily parried. A solid blow to her hand guard and she cried out in pain and stumbled as her sword was knocked out of her grip. I brought my sword up to her throat and pressed the tip to her chin. She was wild eyed and we were both panting.

There was something primeval in her look. Violence and sex had always been deep rooted concepts that seemed to orbit each other, and there was a raw vitality to our exertions that right then at that moment, I could see us tearing ourselves free of the sweat soaked jumpsuits and feeding the lust that rose up in us. At that moment I was glad that Zoe and I were together, for I knew that I would forever regret what my lizard brain was contemplating. I regained control of my senses and lowered my blade, stepping aside to let her retrieve her sword.

“Well done.” She said, respectively.

“You were pretty decent, yourself.”

“Those weren’t Star Marine moves you pulled.”

“No, they were Garz’a lurzak manoeuvres. Crege’s been teaching me for a few years now.”

“If you were using a real lurzak blade that last blow would have removed my whole arm.”

“Probably. I recognised a few of your own moves. Not too many military schools teach those styles. Eridanian?”

“This again?”

“Dog with a bone, remember?”

“Okay, you beat me, you deserve something.”

“Hit me.”

“Esper Royal Guard, then a few more specialised roles in the Esper Royal Service.”

“Huh. That’s how you knew about the Coil Wraith and those synthetics on the Viridian March?”

“Yeah, been a while since I was a Royalist though.”

“What made you leave?”

“Politics.”

I laughed.

“What’s so funny?”

“The only reason we ever enter, and then leave the service. Politics.”

“I thought you drummed out medically?”

“Nope. They wanted to parade me around as the hero of the Push. Sole survivor and all that rubbish.”

“Yeah, that would suck. Being a famous hero and all.”

“I’m no hero, Art. I’m just the lucky son of a bitch who made it back alive.”

“And here we are, dragging your heroic arse back into it.”

“Here we are.”

44.

We had a few more days of relative peace before the Blade of Xerxes was in position to make another attack. The Korveli-Xue Galactic Corporation wasn’t done with us yet, and as the lead time between us dwindled, so too did our chances of surviving an all-out assault. As our options narrowed, Maxine, Fel’negr and I started having regular meetings in the command module. My handing down of a sentence to Mal had gone down better than I’d expected. He seemed truly remorseful when I spoke to him and informed him of his future position with the crew. He’d nodded calmly when I told him of his pay cut, when I’d told him of his extra duties and that he could forget about any senior positions on the ship for the foreseeable future. He took it all in stride, in silence, and with a bowed head. I think he actually expected us to toss him out the ‘lock, because I could swear the man looked grateful at the end. Maxine had released him from his cabin shortly afterwards, and he went about his duties with quiet solemnity.

I was in the command module for one of my shifts, along with Fel and Maxine having one of our daily discussions on what we can do if things got out of control with the Xerxes. We’d tweaked the mirror array that housed the nanite package linked to Tac and his decryption program. Our biggest fear was if they launched one of the Mark 98 Laser Guided Ionising Magnetic rounds at us at close range, that Tac wouldn’t have enough time to break through the pulse coding on the light beam and disrupt the tracking fast enough. Although almost all the rail gun rounds had rudimentary guidance, it was this one round type that had the ability to keep up with our juking and jiving. Get close enough and they could probably get us with a kinetic warhead even.

It was this fear that prompted the meeting. Fel and Tac had been running simulations and they felt it was time to bring it to Max and I.

“So we got to thinking,” explained Fel, “Instead of trying to break up the tracking data the laser was feeding the shell, we could instead just filter it into the beamer and get it to fire along that path way.”

“Wouldn’t we still need to decode the data?” I asked.

Not entirely, First Mate Donovan. We do not need to unlock the pulse code, we just need to isolate it in the algorithm and use it as acquisition data for the beamer.

“But how would the beamer know what it was looking at?”

“It just needs to invert the data.” explained Fel.

“So let me get this right.” started Maxine, “You want us to feed enemy data streams directly into our AI, and then had him slot it into our one and only weapon?”

“Well, when you word it like that, I guess it does sound dicey.” admitted Fel.

“It’s dicey as all hell.”

“How confident are you that the beamer can hit it at that range?” I asked Tac.

I am 74.2% certain that the beamer will impact the target at extreme range. Waiting a few more seconds for the shell to get closer significantly increases that accuracy, at the expense of a viable safe distance of disposal.

“What’s our optimum distance versus safe range?”

2.72 seconds after the shell is within maximum range brings the accuracy to 88.32%, but there is a 17% chance the shell’s detonation will still affect the Dreaming in some fashion.

“Some fashion? Like an explosion?”

Insufficient data to provide a meaningful answer.

“Yeah, okay, I get it. Depends on the warhead.”

Correct, First Mate Donovan.

“What do you think, Cap?”

“How does it rate up against our current plan?” she directed this to Fel.

“We fed a few simulated pulse codes into the algorithm, and the best time we could crack it in was eleven seconds, there about.”

“How much time until the beamer would be in range at that lead time?”

8.1 seconds, Captain Cooper.

“That’s pretty close.”

“So we either trust that Tac can crack the code in time or we try and blast the round into dust when our lead time hits eleven seconds away.” I summarised.

“Your call, Captain.” said Fel.

She knuckled her brow in concentration. After a few minutes she called it, ordering the beamer option added as the solution at close range, but leaving the algorithm in place for lead times up to 20 seconds.

“How long until we’re that close?” she asked.

Fel checked his instruments before answering. “Seventy one hours, forty two seconds.”

“Two and a half ship days, nearly. What’s our lead time now?”

“Twenty minutes, fourteen seconds. Thirteen seconds.”

“How far until the Xerxes will need to brake?”

“If they plan to orbit the Jump Gate, sixty nine hours.”

“What if they just do a fly by, clip us on the way through?” I asked. I figured if I was the Captain of the Xerxes there was no way I’d let us slip through the Jump Gate just because I had to slow down at some point. “What if they just alter their course by a fraction of a degree so that they don’t pass through the Protectorate low velocity zone?”

Maxine swivelled about on her chair and faced her console, typing away at the controls. Fel did the same, and they bandied astro-navigational concepts at each other for a few minutes. I didn’t even try the math, I’d had enough headaches this week.

Fel was the first to answer. “They could probably get within ten seconds lead time of us, if the navigators on that ship are top notch.”

“There’s no reason to believe that they’re not.” added Max, “I got ten seconds point five five. It could maintain that lead time for an hour and a half before they’d pull away again. How quickly can the beamer fire at that range?”

“A few seconds is all it needs, but that’s not the problem.” I said, “There’s no way we can leave it charged for ten minutes, let along an hour and a half. We’d fry the holding capacitors.”

“Shit.” swore Max.

“Yeah.”

“Next windfall we get, remind me to invest in some Class 1 weapons.”

She had a point. Although they were a magnitude less powerful, Class 1 weapons can be fired with little to no charging and can fire continuously depending on their type. In fact, a Class 1 weapon would have made this predicament far more easily avoided, as we could pretty much spam shots at any incoming rounds whenever they got close. Our beamer was weapon designed to be fire infrequently, it needed a few minutes between shots to recharge.

It wasn’t every day that we were chased by galactic bullies in giant organic ships that shot Class 3 weapons. It’s the kind of scenario you just don’t plan contingencies for. Unfortunately, most pirates aren’t deterred by being shot at with a Class 1 weapon.

“Last question, how long until we can enter then Jump Gate?”

“Eighty three hours.”

“Well, this is it. They’ll probably send a few more rounds very soon. I’m going to talk to the crew.” Max grabbed the PA mic and cleared her throat. “All hands, this is the Captain. We’re reaching a critical point in this run, things should pick up in tempo real soon. I want all compartments secured for high-gee manoeuvres as soon as possible, I want no loose items sculling about that could become a missile hazard at any time. Always be aware of your nearest crash harness, and listen out for hull breaches. Until further notice, all Deck 3 compartments are out of bounds. Cuts, can you ensure all access hatches are sealed and are air tight. If we get a breach down there, we can address it at a later date. Try and minimise wandering between compartments unless you need to, and all crew are to remain on Deck 2 unless their duties require them to access the command deck. Sorry, Zoe, that means you need to stay in your own cabin tonight.” I groaned as Max gave me a smirk and winked at me, “Last of all, we’re low on polycrete foam, so if you can seal a compartment in the event of a breach, please do so instead of plugging it. We’ll triage the leaks when we’re able. I love you all. Captain, out.”

She lowered the mic and turned serious. “I want you and Fel to stay on the command deck. Fel, can you bunk with Seth for the next few day?”

“I’m sure I can put up with him until then.”

“Thanks, I’ll probably put you two on continuous bridge duty anyway, so sort it out between you how you’re going to divvy up the time. I’ll stay on as day hand and get some shut eye in the wee hours. Make sure before you use the heads that you have someone covering up here at all times.”

“Are you our Space Mummy, now? It’s not our first shift on the bridge.” I smiled at her.

“I’m allowed to worry, I’m paying the bills if one of you shits wanders off for a piss and we get smashed in the meantime.”

“I’m not even sure where that comment loses sight of reality.” said Fel, smiling as well.

“You both going to poke fun at me, now are we?” she said.

“If we can get away with it, yeah.” I said, laughing.

“If you want, we can get Crege back up here to join in?”

“Why? You worried I’m too much for you two boys to handle?”

“Oh, we know you’re too much for us both to handle.” I added, “I’ve seen you naked, remember?”

“You what?” said Fel, doing a double take.

Both Max and I burst out laughing as Fel’s eyes burned a crimson tone that showed his outright surprise.

“Don’t worry, Fel.” said Max, “If we pull through this, I’ll give you a lap dance in the mess deck.”

“Ha! It’s been a while since we had an entertainment night!” I said, slapping my knee. Poor Fel’s eyes turned a greenish yellow tinge of embarrassment.

“Ah, no thanks. No disrespect but you human females are way too hairy for my tastes.”

“What makes you think I’m hairy under this jump suit?”

Now it was my turn to turn red. Goddamn women and their filthy minds.

45.

I awoke from a dream of the dark nanite seas to the sound of the PA system blaring in my cabin. Fel had drawn the short straw and taken the first watch after our meeting and I’d gone straight to bed to get what sleep I could. Now I was being blasted awake by Fel shouting into the PA system.

“All hands! Weapons release detected! Close up on stations! Repeat! Weapons release detected! Close up on stations!”

I was sleeping in my jump suit, so I just jumped straight to the deck and ran along the command deck towards the command module. I’d gotten about ten metres out from my cabin before I realised I’d forgotten to put my shoes on, and the cold deck plates were freezing the bottoms of my feet. I debated turning back for them for two heartbeats but figured if Max come out of her cabin she’d chew me a new one for running the wrong direction. As I dashed towards the bridge, I passed a damage control locker and grabbed a pair of light duty space boots, pulling them on one at a time between steps. Light duty is a relative turn, they were still large and clumsy to walk in, but very warm.

I got to the hatch and opened it. Max was still on watch with Fel, and they were both in a flurry of activity pushing buttons on their consoles. Max turned to nod at me as I entered, then did a double take when she saw my boots.

“Don’t ask.” I said as I slipped past her and sat down in the pilot’s chair.

“If you’re planning an EVA, you’ll at least need a helmet, Donny.” she chided.

“What have we got?” I could see three contacts had been tagged on one of the consoles, their distances dwindling as I watched.

“Single round, two escorts.” reported Fel.

“Escorts?”

“Looks like single man fighters, bullet configuration.”

“Crazy, sonofa…”

With the introduction of drone combat, the use of space fighters became pretty much obsolete. Even Class 1 weapons can easily take out a fighter, as they can’t perform with as much agility as a drone. Drones can twist and turn at gee forces that would turn a living pilot to pulp, while a fighter will need to maintain relatively low gee manoeuvres. That makes them virtually sitting ducks for rapid firing Class 1 weapons.

“What do they hope to achieve using fighters?”

Electromagnetic sensors are detecting unusually strong Prallgian-Kronnen fields enveloping those two fighter contacts.

“How strong?” Max asked.

High modulation, rapid cycling fields of approximately 12 MWatts.

“That’s stronger than ours.” I said.

“What do we know about fighters?” she asked.

“Crege should be in on this conversation.”

Maxine looked like she was staring off into the distance, and I could tell she was sending him a text. His response was sent to us all.

Most likely Frikk Eclipse Fighters. Skilled pilots, glory hounds all of them. Very expensive.

What are their capabilities? I texted back.

High acceleration, short range. Shields designed to withstand nuclear attacks. Class 1 weapons, have seen Class 2 missiles a few times. Should be able to see them if they have those.

“Tac, give me optics on the starboard fighter.” ordered Max. I brought up the same image that Max had, checking it all over for signs of missile pods or attachments. I packaged a still frame and sent it to Crege’s overlay.

What do you think? I can’t see one. I asked.

No missiles. Class 1 only.

“You think another nuke? Blind us while they cut up our propulsion?” asked Max.

“Could be.” I checked our lead time, we had fifteen minutes until convergence. The two fighters were angled slightly apart, putting distance between their craft and the shell. Even with the initial velocity of the organo-ship, the gee forces on the fighter pilots must be enormous. There’s no way those pilots would be conscious right now. That gave me an idea.

Crege, how do the pilots sustain high gee? I texted.

Cockpits filled with pressurised fluid, life support directly to the pilot.

Do they remain conscious?

Not at that acceleration. They’ll get jolted awake when they reach convergence.

How are the auto-navigation systems on these Eclipse Fighters?

Terrible, not enough room for decent AI.

Thanks.

Happy hunting, kitrak.

“What are you thinking?” asked Max.

“Those fighters are under rudimentary guidance, almost like a round themselves. They won’t have any hazard avoidance.”

She turned and looked at her data. “Go on.”

“They’d be tracking the Dreaming, which means we control where they’re headed.”

Maxine started laughing. “Oh, you are an evil bastard, Donny.”

“What are you planning?” asked Fel.

“We still have that Ogre synthetic chassis in the aft cargo. Let’s give it back to them.” I said. Maxine was still laughing. “Tac, we’re going to lead a little bit of debris in our wake, can you track it and put a trajectory on my pilot console number three for me?”

Certainly, First Mate Donovan.

Maxine grabbed the PA mic. “Hergo, Denno, head down to aft cargo and haul that big synthetic wreck into the aft ‘lock. If you can find anything else that’s big and heavy that we can spare, put that in there too.”

In a few minutes, the Argen reported that the aft airlock was filled with synthetic chassis and a few empty cargo crates. The Ogre’s shield was also put in there.

“Okay, flush it out, boys!” called Max. In seconds, Tac had the debris cloud mapped out on a trajectory as we pulled away from it. I watched as it fell behind us, and began to manoeuvre the ship to one side. Sure enough, the fighters, along with the shell, began to adjust their course to match ours. The shell, I knew, would just plough right through the debris, only suffering slight damage, but at this speed even a small amount of damage to a manned craft would be enough to cause catastrophic damage. With giggling glee, I angled our course so that the left most fighter would begin to drift into the cloud of debris.

“Contact in one minute!” called Fel after a while.

“What about the other one?” asked Max.

“The beamer should be able to take out those shields, won’t be able to kill it, but the nuke will take care of the rest.”

“You sure? Those are pretty strong shields.” added Fel.

“Hmm. Well, with any luck they’ll lose sensors like we normally do after we take their shields down a notch. Hopefully that will give us enough time to recharge and take another shot.”

“We got anything else we can toss out?”

“Not that we can spare.”

“Contact in ten seconds!” called Fel.

“Here we go. This is beautiful.” said Max. Sure enough, the cloud of debris hit the fighter and tore it to pieces, and it disappeared in a puff of expanding debris of its own. Maxine was shaking her head smiling. “The Captain of the Xerxes must be jumping up and down on his bridge. I would give my left tit to see the look on his face right now.”

“Seven minutes until convergence.” came Fel’s report.

“How long until they’re within beamer range?”

“About six minutes and forty seconds.”

“Charging beamer.” I said.

“How long until we can get a second shot off after the first?”

“At least three minutes.”

“Tac, how quickly can we get sensors back online after the nuke goes off?”

2 minutes 30 seconds on average, Captain. Depending on which systems go offline. There is a variance of approximately 47 seconds either direction.

“What are the chances that fighter has better sensor recovery than we do?” she mused.

“They’re a military craft, probably got systems for that.”

“Options?”

“Trust in our guns.” I said.

“Manoeuvring too far away will give the Blade of Xerxes precious ground, it would seem we have little choice.”

“Okay, good luck.” she said.

The minutes and then seconds trickled by. Like many of the other times I’d been involved in space combat, it was always to waiting that was hardest to come to terms with. There was always lots of waiting, followed by brief moments of terror. Ours came all too soon.

“Acquired target! Tracking! Firing solution valid! Firing!” I called.

“Weapons release detected!”

“All hands! Brace for impact!”

“Detonation detected! Sensors offline!”

Internal sensors indicate several hull breaches in aft cargo and engineering space echo-9.

“Hergo! Denno! Are you still in aft cargo?” called Max, “Damn it! I should have told them to get out.”

Deck Hand Denno reports they had moved back to Deck 2 immediately after jettisoning the debris, Captain.

Max breathed a sigh of relief.

Engineer Cutler reports that engineering compartment echo-9 is sealed and is airtight. Minor damage to life support module ‘echo’ reported, redundant systems online.

“What can we see, Seth? Anything at all?” she asked.

“Negative, we are blind on all sensors.”

We sat in silence for several moments, waiting for our sensors to come back online, or for us to be blown to pieces by the enemy fighter. Suddenly, the ship reverberated with several loud bangs.

Hull breach detected, Deck 1 aft ventral shaft. Losing pressure on Deck 1 command deck.

“Never mind, we’re safe in here for now.” said Max.

Another series of hits sounded from somewhere in the ship, the bangs travelling along the metal of the ship’s structure.

Damage detected port nacelle. Condensing stream unstable in Module 4 of the port propulsion.

Max grabbed the PA. “Mal, we’re losing module four on the port nacelle. Switch us over to hydrogen emissions.”

“Sensors are coming up. They’re initialising.” reported Fel, “Calibrating…EM, gravity, radiological, optics are online, the rest are still calibrating.”

“Radar?” I asked.

“Standby.”

More hits rocked the ship, but Tac didn’t report any damage.

“Tac, damage report!”

Nothing.

“Tac?”

“Captain, I am receiving text from Tac, but it appears he has suffered some damage. I am unable to make out the content of his messages.” said Fel.

“Shit. Must have hit the sensor nexus.”

“Or there was a power surge that feeds the nexus.”

We could make out the fighter now, as the optical sensors started to feed data to our displays. We still couldn’t track the fighter with enough accuracy to fire with the beamer, we’d need our radar up and working for that. I gripped the console faring with both hands and took a deep breath. I was about to flood the console with my nanites and take control of the ship again, but Zoe’s words rang in my mind. If I suffer a seizure again, I could put the crew in great danger. I had to trust the ship to get us through the next few seconds.

“Beamer charging!” I called instead, removing my hands from the console.

“Radar coming online, collimating… radar ready!”

I waited for the radar to start tracking the target, and watched the beamer controls and indicators eagerly.

“Target acquired! Tracking! Beamer firing!”

The sweet, sweet howl of the beamer eclipsed all other sounds briefly as the energy beam swept out into space and sprayed over the fighter. In less than a second it chewed through the weakened shield and then it was all over, the beam pierced the fragile hull and speared out through the rear of the ship. The glare of the fighter’s propulsion drive flared out and the ship tumbled out of control, a dead husk.

“Target destroyed.” I said, slumping back into the chair. I heard the others release their breath in concert.

46.

Maxine left the command module to go help with damage control after that. I could see Fel was eager to go too, but Max put a stop to it right away. She wanted at least two of us on watch for now. The command module hatch opened with a hiss of escaping oxygen, and our ears popped with the change in air pressure. She shut the hatch as she grabbed one of our few remaining polycrete foam dispensers.

It wasn’t too long before the damage reports started to come in. We didn’t realise how close we’d come to buying the farm, so to speak. There were over a dozen hull breaches across the three decks, and several in the engineering spaces. Strangely, for once, there were none in the mess deck. The main propulsion system had suffered some damage, and would remain offline until the extent could be assessed, and Max made Mal focus on that as a priority. Artemis, Zoe, Maxine and the two Argen spent the next eight hours making the ship space worthy again, and only once all the hull breaches were plugged did they get to the sensor nexus, where Tac was housed.

Thankfully, Tax was fine, but our local network had suffered a break down after several power relays had burnt out. Fel managed to talk Max into allowing him to start work on a workaround, and she sent Zoe up to the bridge to replace him.

When she got to the command module, I was feeling pretty out of it, and started to do some stretches in the chair to loosen up a little. I had a long shift ahead of me, and little sleep to back me up. Zoe was rather accommodating, and started off by giving me a shoulder massage from Max’s chair.

“How are we looking?” I said, as she worked a knot out of my left shoulder.

“Bit of a mess. Place smells like ozone and polycrete foam.”

“When is Crege fit to get back to duty? Fel and I are going to be on here all the time, pretty much. At least until we hit the Jump Gate.”

“He’s almost good enough for light duties, but I don’t want him walking around. If that bone graft doesn’t heal right, he’ll be in pain for the rest of his life. Or he undergoes very long and very painful surgery.”

“Can he take this chair?”

“Give me one more ship day, then I’ll do an assessment. As long as we can lift him in here, I suppose it will do him some good. He’s going mad with boredom.”

“I bet. You’re actually the first doctor who he hasn’t threatened to kill on board this ship, you know?”

“He has called me some colourful names, though. Usually in his native tongue.”

We made small talk for a while, and it was good to have her near. It was usually at times like this that I found it easy to talk to her about my Star Marine days, and by extension my post-traumatic stress. I thought about it, but found that I didn’t really have anything to say that I hadn’t already talked to her about before. I think she sensed my mood, and her massage stopped. I didn’t have to see her to know that we was adopting what I called her ‘listening pose’. She would put her hands in her lap, bow her head slightly and keep her back straight. She would nod occasionally to indicate she was following what I was saying, offering short questions regarding my recounts, or probing for more information about my thoughts. She would then analyse what I’d said and interpret what I was going through, how my mind was processing things and how I could alter my perceptions and perspectives on certain aspects of what I had told her.

When I didn’t say anything for a few minutes, she started to ask her questions.

“We’re probably entering the most dangerous part of this leg of the journey, wouldn’t you say?”

“We certainly are.” I agreed.

“We haven’t spoken much lately, you and I.”

“I’ve been pretty busy. I haven’t been avoiding you.”

“I understand. I’m actually glad, to be honest.”

“Why’s that?”

“You don’t feel the need to talk as much. It’s telling about how much progress you’ve made. You still have a long way to go, but I think I’ve given you all the tools you need to fight this last battle alone.”

“You make that sound so final.”

“I’ll always be here, but you don’t need my guidance anymore.”

“I think I’ll always think of something to say to you, even if it’s just to say I’m fine.”

“I’d like that very much.” She paused for a while before beginning again. “What do you think our chances are? Of making it to the Gate?”

My first impulse was to reassure her, but it didn’t feel right to offer platitudes, not while she was in her listening pose. She always saw through my excuses or when I was telling myself lies to protect my subconscious.

“Not good.” She waited for me to elaborate. “We’ve got a few days left, in which time the gap between us will close faster and faster. They’ll have a very good chance of just saturating our space with rounds, too many for us to avoid. It’s what I’d do.”

“You’ve been fairly accurate with your guesses so far.”

“Unfortunately, yes. We’ve used them to cheat death or capture so far, I just can’t see a way out of this one without blind luck or…or…I don’t know.”

“You’ve also been able to outsmart the Corporates so far.”

I sighed. “Sooner or later, odds are going to get so stacked against us that being smart or not won’t make a difference.”

“I believe in you.”

“I’m not infallible, Zoe. I’m old enough that inflating my ego doesn’t really make me think better. I appreciate the vote of confidence, but I really have nothing.”

“I believe in you, Seth. Even if we fail, I’ll still think you’ve gotten us this far, you’ve done your best. That’s all a girl wants from a man.”

“I wish there was some way to get you off the ship, I’ve faced death so many times that I’m used to it, but this time it’s different. The thought of you dying with the ship…it just…”

She must have sensed my tension, as I suddenly jolted with an idea.

“What is it?” she asked.

“…get you off this ship…”

“I don’t follow you.”

I grabbed the PA mic and called for Maxine to get to the command module. I wish I had Tac with us, I needed his calculations. I cleared one of the displays that I wasn’t using to monitor the space around us and started to gather sensor data and information about the Blade of Xerxes. Zoe could see that I was in the grip of something fierce, and kept silence while I worked. When Max arrived she merely stood behind me and watched.

“I need someone to check these numbers, my math is not as good as yours or Fel’s.”

“What am I looking for?” asked Max.

“I need to know relative velocity, our acceleration differential, the inertial stabiliser field of the Xerxes, and whether or not the grav-plates in the Dreaming of Atmosphere can sync with the Xerxes’ stabiliser.”

She gave me a funny look, and I sent my calculations to her overlay. She sat down and I watched her eyes darting to and fro as she read the data on her retinas. Her fingers twitched and poked at images on her overlay that only she could see as she tweaked the calculations and ran the numbers.

“I’m still not following you but the numbers look solid. You want to throw our grav-plates at the ship?”

“Sort of. With me attached to it.”

They both gave me a collective “What?!”

“It’s called an axial deployment. I jump out the aft cargo hatch, the grav-plates synchronise with the Xerxes’ stabiliser field and that arrests my inertia. Mostly.”

Zoe’s mouth was just hanging open, while Max was shaking her head in disbelief.

“And what in the name of the all the stars is that point of that?” she said.

“What do you think we did in the Star Marines?”

“Space stations! You did it on space stations!”

“We trained on moving ships as well. We would get deployed in the middle of a fleet action, when the differential velocities were acceptable, and disable ships that way.”

“Have you done it before?”

“Several times…in training. Once in combat.”

“And what are you going to do when you get on board? That ship has got to have over a hundred people manning it. Easily more!”

“I’m going to disable the engines.”

“And then?”

“Then I’ll get off. I haven’t thought that far ahead, okay?”

“Absolutely not!”

“We need to do this. We might be able to avoid this railgun a few times, over the next few days. But that lead time will get smaller and smaller. Even that plan we have to counter the laser guided shell is dicey at best. You said so yourself. What if they fire several rounds at once? They won’t even need to use nukes, standard explosives will be enough to smash us to atoms. We need to try something else.”

“And you think jumping out onto the ship is the best idea?”

“It’s what I’ve been trained to do.”

“Care to share with us what the success rate of this…axial deployment is?”

I stared at her. “Lower than fifty percent make it. Most of us splat.”

“Splat!” cried Max, “You go splat!”

“It’s just a slang word!”

“You have a slang word for killing yourself on the bonnet of an organo-ship bearing down on us to kill us?”

“Look, Max. It’s our only chance. You know we won’t survive a barrage at close range. That captain is going to be so pissed at us right now, that he won’t give a shit about recovering the Jump Gate, he’ll just want it gone and us along with it.”

“I’m NOT losing another friend on this trip. I will NOT allow this madness to…”

“I believe in him.” said Zoe. She’d been quiet up until now. Her small voice cut right through Max’s screaming at me. She just clamped her mouth shut and turned to Zoe. “If Seth says he can save us by doing this. I believe him. He doesn’t put himself needlessly at risk. It’s always a calculated risk.”

“Zoe…I…”

“It’s why you sent him to the military. You said so yourself. You needed him to have skills more like his father than you. You couldn’t teach him those things, but the Star Marines could. So you sent him.”

“That’s not…I mean, I didn’t want him to…”

“Look at him.” she pointed at me, and Max turned her face towards mine, “Really look at him. He’s whole. He’s strong and he’s smart. He’s this way because of you. Because of the choices you made that guided his life and his career.”

She looked into my eyes, and I held them, daring her to deny me. I saw many things in Max’s eyes. I saw pride, fear, outrage and I saw raw pain.

“If what he says is true, that the chances of escaping this ship alive fall with each passing hour, then what will it matter if he dies trying to stop it hours before we all die anyway?”

“You’re both mad.” said Max, but her words lacked conviction. I smiled at her then.

“No, we’re in love. There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness.”

“You sound like bloody Fel. Was that some of that Way nonsense?”

“Actually, it was Nietzche.”

“Never heard of him.”

“That which does not kill us makes us stronger?”

“Oh, that guy?” I nodded. She let out a great sigh and leaned back in her chair. “You are crazy, you realise that?”

“Crazy enough to save the two girls I love most in the galaxy. Crazy enough to die trying.”

“Don’t talk like that. If you do this, I want your word. You work out how to get back to us. No point in all this if we have to leave you behind.”

“I’m already thinking of a plan. I’ll need Mal, Artemis, Fel and Crege to help me. And Tac.”

“What else?”

“A bomb?”

“Pretty sure we got a few of those lying around here somewhere, asked the bitch for one.” She leaned back and grabbed the PA mic from its recess. “Cuts, Artemis, can you meet Seth in med lab. Fel, pull Tac out of the nexus and bring him up as well, repairs can wait a few minutes.”

“Thanks, Max. I won’t let you down.”

“If you die out there, I’ll kill you. Go, Zoe and I will cover the bridge. We’re going to have a little woman to woman chat about emotional manipulation.”

I got up and climbed over the seat. As I passed Zoe I leaned down and we kiss passionately for a long while. Eventually Max cleared her throat, a little too loudly to be coincidental.

“Enough, I’m getting all misty over here.” she said.

47.

My plan was simple, sort of. In order for ships to undergo any amount of high gee thrust there needs to be an inertial stabiliser that negates a portion of those g-forces felt within the ship. Propelling shuttles and ships to the speeds needed to reach escape velocity was often a painful, and at best uncomfortable exercise for early crewmen. On top of this, in the early days of space travel, there were a number of health considerations identified that made long term living amongst the stars undesirable. The loss of bone density due to low or zero gravity along with other concerns that meant human physiology would change over time made long distance travel a dangerous, and often one directional, journey for starship crews. With the advent of gravity technology, this solved both problems.

The ability to manipulate gravity, at least in relatively small areas, meant that ships, space stations and habitats could simulate comfortable gravity levels, and negate some of the effects of inertia. The larger stations, like the giant torus styled affairs that were popular in the Eridani System, used centrifugal force to create gravity, or at least a downward pressure that could pass for gravity, but for stations like the Corus Cluster in the Argessi System that were cobbled together they needed gravity plates to hold its citizens and occupants to the decks. A grav-plate was a small scale device that would replace classic deck plates on a ship, or station, and would generate local gravity within a certain range of the plate. The Dreaming of Atmosphere had them all over the ship. Some of the engineering spaces didn’t need them, or they would interfere with the Ion Drives in some way. In the aft cargo hold, the gravity plates are unable to reach the very top of the compartment, and so the upper thirty seven centimetres of the hold are zero-g. It was a strange little quirk of the Meridian Class transports.

The other thing my plan relied upon was the inertial stabilisers of a ship. I mentioned briefly about the need for Jump Gates to be within an area of space that is relatively free from the effects of gravity. The only way a ship is able to interact with the Gate’s event horizon instead of simply pass right through it is by negating the ship’s inertia so that it doesn’t interrupt the Gate’s complex energy fields. All stabilisers, therefore, were designed to extend beyond a few metres of a ship’s hull. This also has the added benefit of holding the ship together when it suffers undue stress and damage. They are rarely modified or turned off, so I was fairly certain that the Blade of Xerxes had one as well.

I learnt all about these phenomenon during my training in the Primacy Star Marine Corps. During those axial deployments, we were issued with jump packs and grav-boots. This time I was pretty much just planning to use a grav-plate from the ship and stand on it with my magnetic boots, as grav-boots were too expensive and specialised to just pick up at a local market. As Star Marines approached an enemy ship, they would arrest some of their velocity relative to the enemy ship and when their grav-boots encountered the inertial field they would strip much of the inertia of the marine, allowing their jump packs to decelerate the marine to a safe velocity and land. It was all about timing, and the first few time’s I’d attempted it I’d messed it up and earned the nickname ‘Splat’. One of my old squaddies that I went through training with was called ‘Bouncer’ and another ‘Ricochet’. They were pretty common names for rookie Star Marines. It was much easier on stationary targets like space stations.

I waited in the med lab with Crege and Artemis for the others. They were curious, but I didn’t let them know what I had planned until everyone was present. When they arrived, I gave them an outline and waited while they finished being shocked before I started to ask questions.

“So…what I need for all of you is the rest of the plan. I can get to the ship, but I need you help to disable it and to get off it. Art, I need a few of those charges that are hidden around the ship. We don’t carry explosives unless we’re planning on doing some mining for a job.”

“You’ll have it. Give me forty minutes when we’re done here.” That’s Art, all business.

“Mal, you have the most knowledge about propulsions systems on the ship, I understand theirs will be completely different to ours, but your guess is probably going to be better than mine.”

“I’ll see what I can come up with.” For the first time, ever, he was helping without any snide remarks or coercing. Maybe his recent betrayal and subsequent mercy shown him by us had finally set him on the right path.

“Crege, you’re the finest warrior I know, if anyone can give me advice on how to take on a crew of over a hundred it’s you. I need all the advice I can get, I need to be a ninja.”

“Warrior is unfamiliar with this animal.”

“It’s an ancient earth assassin, they were practically invisible.”

“People are easy, internal sensors are your calak.”

I believe I can be of assistance there, First Mate Donovan.

“As can I.” added Fel.

“I can confuse most internal sensors, I have a paradigm with my nano-proliferation that can mask me from them, but I can’t use it indefinitely. I’ll also need help with any security check points or electronically locked doors.” I said.

“You’ll need your scrambler.” said Fel, “Although I have a feeling it will interfere with your nanites’ ability to communicate with each other as well.”

Negative, Systems Operator Fel’negr. Nanites communicate at the subatomic scale using quantum tunnelling and entanglement concepts. Your scrambler should not affect their interfacing.

“Well that’s good news then.”

“I need help cracking through their security systems, to gain access to compartments. At some point, I might be able to secure an access pass, but I don’t want that as my only option. I’ll need to access an airlock as well, just to get inside. I can’t let their sensors pick me up trying to get in.”

“You should be able to just cut your way through an outer airlock.” added Mal, “It’s the inner ‘lock that will have the most sensitive sensors. Just re-seal the outer ‘lock before you start trying to get into the inner.”

“Okay, so I just need to hack the inner ‘lock doors. Art, have you ever been on one of these Corporate organo-ships?”

“Yeah, few years back. You know they only build the inner compartments, propulsion, the bridge and living spaces. Everything else is grown from chitin, or cartilage, or whatever it is.”

“So how do I disable one?”

“Depends on the level of disabling you require.”

“Enough to make them stop chasing us.”

“Propulsion is probably the easiest, but you might not be able to take out enough of their systems to make a difference. Your best bet is probably the ship’s brain.”

“What?” A few of the others joined me in their surprise.

“You understand that an organo-ship is alive, right?” she explained.

“Yeah, but…I thought it was just the outer hull?”

“Nope, the things have organs that perform many of the mechanical system functions we have on regular ships. Life support, water reclamation, sensors, heating. Hell, even the public announcement and alarms are propagated through vocal organs. These things need primitive nerve clusters that respond to stimuli, the responses are processed in organs that you could call brains. Take out the brain that controls propulsion and fuel control, you disable the ship.”

“Mal?”

“Sounds reasonable. Remove any ability for the engines to get fuel and fires go out.”

“How will they repair it?”

“They’d need to regrow another brain.”

Actually, it would seem likely they would have redundant systems in place to counter this kind of event.

“Nope, Corporates think they’re invincible inside their ships. The best they got is spare brains. They take time to install, though, and they have to regrow the nerve connections.”

That seems counter intuitive. Why would they not include redundant systems?

“An ancient human poem comes to mind,” offered Fel, “One which is often cited in teachings of The Way;

“And on the pedestal these words appear:

‘My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:

Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!’

Nothing beside remains. Round the decay

Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare

The lone and level sands stretch far away.”

“You often quote human philosophers, almost as much as your own race’s.” I asked, “Do we inspire you that much?”

“From the moment our two races met, we were fascinated with your kind. Here was a bright and magnificent species of intelligent beings, with a capacity for love, compassion and greatness that matched their capacity for stupidity, foolishness and cruelty. Who were we but to marvel at humanity’s age of wonder?”

“Age of wonder?”

“No other species is more numerous and prolific across the galaxy. It was humankind’s sharing of the Jump Gate technology that has created this galaxy spanning civilisation.”

“When you put it like that…”

“My reference, however, warns of the hubris of men. To answer your question, Tac, the Corporates cannot conceive of one man taking from them the ability to impose their will upon the galaxy.”

I see. You have given me much to ponder.

“Save it for another time, Tac. I need you working on ways to hack the Corporate security systems.”

I will need to be within wireless range of the vessel in order to analyse their security.

“That’s why I’m taking you with me.” I said.

“When are you planning on performing this daring raid?” asked Artemis.

“As soon as I’m ready. The closer the Xerxes gets to the Dreaming, the more danger we’ll be in.”

“I’ll go see what I can piece together in the time that I have.” said Fel.

“I’ll pull up a grav-plate from the deck. Won’t miss one in aft cargo.” said Mal.

“I’ll go get you a few bombs.”

“Human already knows how to fight. Already knows how to stay alive. Warrior trusts kitrak knows how to think like galab. Here, no good to warrior. Human will need it.” Crege passed me a sheathed blade, his lurzak.

“I can’t accept this. If I lose it over there, I can’t spend time trying to recover it.” I said.

“Warrior will find another. Will be a while until warrior can use it again anyway.”

“Isn’t there some sort of sentimental value placed on it, though? Some warrior’s oath or what not?”

“Only on the concept of the blade. Lurzak is replaceable. Friend is not.”

“Thank you. I mean that.”

“Come back alive. Give warrior back his lurzak is thanks enough.”

I left the med lab and took Tac’s spherical body with me. I headed down to the forward cargo hold and entered the armoury. I took one of the energy carbines and laid it on the prep table, collecting several batteries as well. How should I equip myself for this venture, I mused. The Infantry Vests? Or just my ablative jacket? The aim was to stay out of sight, stay hidden, but I knew that wouldn’t last. At some point, I would need to fight. I’d need protection. My M4 MAEL was ruined, which was a shame because this is exactly the kind of operation the suit was designed for. I don’t think I’d be able to wear the Infantry Vests under a light duties space suit, but I’d need to change out of my space suit when I boarded anyway. I grabbed a vest and an equipment pack with straps that I could attached to the space suit.

I took a couple of grenades and my favourites, the party poppers, as well, putting them all on the table with the carbine. I’d swing by cabin in a while and collect my PX-2 as well. There were some here, but every active tends to favour their own personal side arms. Mine was sighted and adjusted exactly how I liked it, and no one but me ever fired it. I also found a smaller satchel that I could put Tac in that would attach to my rear webbing. Next on the list was tools.

I left the armoury, taking Tac with me, and went to the nearest damage control locker. I figured since we can only communicate at close range now, I might need to bounce ideas off him. I rummaged through the locker and grabbed a plasma cutter, and a roll of duct tape. Never knew when duct tape might come in handy. The cutter could also be set to weld, and I’d need it to get through some hatches.

Actually. No, I wouldn’t. I chuckled to myself as I was putting the cutter back.

“I can teleport through doors.”

You may be required to maintain your Invisibility paradigm while moving about the ship, First Mate Donovan. It would be prudent to take redundant tools. Remember the poem of Ozymandias?

“Yes. Yes I do. Thanks for the reminder, Tac. Hubris is my biggest enemy now that I have this nano-proliferation implant.”

I sheepishly took the cutter again and returned to the armoury with my gear. Next, I went to my cabin for the PX-2, the ablative coat and the scrambler. I figured I could always put the coat over the vest. On the way back down I entered Fel’s cabin to find him soldering away at his small desk.

“What are you building?”

“A wireless override device.”

“A what for the who now?”

Fel’negr and I have been discussing ways to overcome physical security measures, such as electronically locked doors. Without the use of your nanites, that is.

“You should be able to attach this to a secured door’s swipe slot, and Tac can access the door through it. Hopefully, he can ghost the door open without setting off any alerts in their systems. It’s almost finished. Pretty standard equipment, really. It’s Tac who adds the special bits.

“Nice. I need some tools for basic electronics work. In case I need to break something.”

“There should be a few kits in Central Control. These are, unlike Crege’s lurzak, irreplaceable.”

“Fair enough. I’ll check on Mal at the same time. Wait a second, you’re still linked to Tac’s channel? I thought the local network was down. Short range only?”

“I had an old transmitter in my cabin, linked to my overlay. I can chat with him, but only text while out of range of his local sensors.”

“Will it reach to the organo-ship?”

He thought for a moment before shaking his head. “I doubt it. I should be able to communicate up until the hull, but I doubt I could penetrate the Xerxes’ hull with it. I’ll be able to relay any messages you need up until then.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

I made my way aft to the Central Control compartment. Mal was at a workbench removing several unnecessary components from a grav-plate. It was beat up and had signs of heavy traffic, but so were most of the other deck plates around the ship. The device that controlled gravity was about the size of two dinner plates, side by side. They were almost flush with the underside of the deck plate. I started rounding up a few tools I might need, putting them into the bag.

“I know we haven’t always gotten along, Seth.” Started Mal, “And I’m sorry for blaming you for Eric’s death. I hope you make it back, and thanks for trying. Thanks for the words you said at Eric’s funeral, I never got the chance to say it before.”

“You’re welcome. I hope I make it back, too.”

“Dibs on your cabin if you don’t.” I laughed and took his offered hand, giving it a firm shake.

“Go to hell, Mal.”

“You first. I’ll take this down the aft ‘lock when I’m done. Won’t be long.”

“All right, see you down there.”

I returned to the armoury and went through the equipment checks. Stripped down the guns, check battery charges, check grenade primers, check straps on infantry vests, check webbing, check lurzak charge, attached sheath, secure equipment to inside of bag, check mag-boots on space suit, check oxygen and power pack levels, check space suit jet pack fuel, check suit integrity, check suit comms with overlay. The routine acted as a calming ritual. I’d done similar exercises before operations in the Star Marines, only then I’d done it in the ready rooms filled with other marines. There was usually a hefty amount of banter and horseplay during this time, but I rarely involved myself with it. The absence was noted, though, my subconscious mind pointing out the differences against the familiar acts.

I always found myself gaining confidence as I assessed the condition of my equipment. I took pride in the attention to detail and planning each piece of hardware brought to the table. I was preparing for an action, rather than responding to a reaction, and it was this that gave me a sense of self-worth, of courage. The Star Marines were not a defence force, after all, they were an offence force. This is what I had been trained for.

My ritual complete, kitted out and suited up I made my way to the aft cargo.

48.

Fel and Mal handed off their gifts to me, I stowed the override in my bag and the grav-plate in the aft ‘lock until I was ready to go. Fel told me he would relieve Max and Zoe on the bridge, as they’d want to send me off before I left. Mal nodded and left as Artemis arrived, carrying several charges.

“Don’t worry, I left a few for you to find. Still don’t trust you guys to toss me out the ‘lock otherwise.”

“Smart.” I said as I carefully wrapped the charges and put them in my bag.

“Good luck, loverboy. Dibs on your cabin if you bite it.”

I sighed, nodded my thanks and watched her saunter out of the compartment as Max and Zoe came in. They were both sombre, concern on their faces. I waited for them to speak first.

“If you find that you can’t achieve your objective,” started Max, “abort and get out of there. I’d rather you get back to us and we risk our necks with the close range barrage than try it without you. Have you got a plan to get out yet?”

“Sort of.”

“Sort of?”

“I’m going to steal one of the Eclipse Fighters.”

“I was going to suggest that, if you hadn’t thought of it. You can also try one of the shuttles; they seemed to have a bit of thrust. The Spear of Orion had at least two, so there’s that.”

“I’ll come back, I promise.” She hugged me fiercely and moved to stand next to the airlock controls. Then Zoe stepped up to me. She looked me in the eyes, and there were a thousand things she was saying with her look alone. Don’t go, go, stay with me, go save us, came back, I love you, etcetera.

She didn’t say any of them, she just looked. I nodded and we embraced. We stayed like that for some time before I stepped away. She held me a little longer until I had to pry her arms from my neck. Tears were streaking down her face. She helped me put my suit helmet on, and went through the buddy checks. I smiled at her when I was done and gave her a thumbs up.

Damn. Leaving on an operation was never this hard in the Star Marines. My feet were heavy, as if I didn’t want to go. If I were one of my squaddies, I’d be yelling at them to get my arse into gear and stop dragging my knuckles. I hauled myself into the aft airlock with a heavy heart and gestured for Max to close the hatch. The hiss of escaping air gradually faded to silence, and all I could hear was my own breathing and my pounding heartbeat. The light in the ‘lock went out, and turned to red as the outer hatch opened.

The dark abyss awaited.

I stepped out of the ‘lock, grav-plate in hand, and gently pushed myself off into space. I turned around gently to watch the Dreaming move away slowly as it accelerated. It was heartbreaking to see the ship in such dis-repair. There were dozens of pitted marks all over the hull, not to mention the dull beige polycrete foam lattice all over it. There were black scorch marks and buckled armour plates, bent combings on vents and a definite trail of dark vapour escaping from the starboard nacelle ion exhaust.

“Hey, Max?” I said into my helmet comms.

“Go ahead, space boy. Read you loud and clear.”

“Your ship looks like a junker from here.”

“Ha! You and Mal are on hull repair as soon as we put into a dry dock after all this is over.”

“Thanks, I’ll remember that.”

“I’m counting on it, Donny.”

“Tell Zoe I love her. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Good luck.”

I drifted in silence, my thoughts calm and serene. It was hard to be anything but, surrounded as I was with the beauty of the stars. The Blade of Xerxes was still too far away to see with the naked eye, but I could track her with the aid of the Dreaming’s sensors. They would send a tight beam to my suit to guide me in, and I would see course adjustments appear on my overlay when they were required.

I turned to face the Eridani star. This wasn’t the first star to be named Eridani. There were dozens, all through the galaxy. Epsilon Eridani, Eridani Major, Phi Eridani, Alpha Eridani, and so on. It was a popular name, but I had no idea where the original Eridani star was. History wasn’t one of my strong points. I did know my family’s history, though. The Donovans came from this system, but like my father, I was born on the Dreaming. This system held no significance to me beyond being a place I’ve visited a few times. I have relatives, but being a frontiersman I’m several generations out of touch with them. Travelling the stars also means anyone that may be of a similar age to me would be closer to my official age, than my biological age.

I tried to recall what I knew of the system. The most heavily populated planet was Eridani Prime. The ecunomopolis planets that the previous system boasts are not as popular here. The Inner System Worlds, as this style of living is known, prefer wide-open spaces, estates and parklands to densely packed populations. Eridani Prime was once known as the Jewel of the Votus-Eridani Network, and twenty five billion sentients live there. Mostly, they are the aristocrats and nobles of the system. The ruling government is the Esper Monarchy, led by the Prime Monarch himself, Precept Geral Usher the 93rd. The Esper Monarchy also caters to a dozen noble houses, each house controlling some aspect of the government’s power. They are not the only faction to rule in this system, however.

Two other factions have a significant claim to power in the Eridani System. Landford is a democratic government that controls the planet Tyrillian, a terraformed world that was once a cold, unforgiving place. Over the centuries, it had become a bastion of democracy, and a warm and comfortable world to live. The DonCrest Galactic Corporation has its headquarters in the system, out of a large habitat called Restus Station. At one time, DonCrest was controlled by the Esper Monarchy, but privatisation and shrewd politics saw it become a power in its own right, rising to galactic standing several hundred years ago.

The system also houses the single largest habitat in the Network, the Acheras Orbital. This giant torus orbital, point four of an AU closer to the star than Eridani Prime, is nearly three thousand kilometres in diameter. The standing population is in the billions, and is the main population centre that is not a planet. A smaller planet close to the sun also hold a few million people, but despite terraforming and solar shields, the planet is far from comfortable to live on. The remaining ninety eight billion people who call the system home live on the thousands of habitats, space stations and orbitals that litter the star system. One of only two star systems in the Votus-Eridani Network to boast three Jump Gates, Votus II being the other, the transient population brings the inhabitants of the system well above the one hundred and fifty billion mark.

This place was too crowded for my liking; I prefer the backwater systems like Argessi. Even Harakiwa System has only a fraction of the traffic this place has. There was always something going on out this way, but there were always too many ways to get killed, or swindled, or out bid, or any other way you can get screwed over. No, my home is the Dreaming.

It was getting hard to make out the ion glow of the drives now, I still had a many hours to go before I caught up with the Blade of Xerxes, so I chatted with Tac for a time. I had him relaying messages to Fel, and through him Max. Eventually, I tried to sleep. My old drill sergeant in the Star Marines used to say that sleep was as good a weapon as any energy rifle. Get it when you could in a combat zone. The abyss I was drifting in would unnerve many, but to me I felt safe here. Little could harm me, so long as my equipment continued to function. Besides the giant organic ship bearing down on me, that is. I put the Xerxes out of my mind and asked Tac to wake me if anything occurred. Then I dozed.

Hours later, and it was time to ready my plan. The Xerxes was visible to the naked eye, a few hundred kilometres away. A radar data package from the Dreaming told me the range and velocity of the ship, and it was time to calculate how much thrust I would need in order to survive contact. I was well positioned; I’d need little adjustment to my course. This was good, because it wouldn’t take much for me to alert the Xerxes to my presence. I still had some time, so I went over my plan with Tac.

“Analyse the data from the Dreaming and tell me when to activate the jet pack. I have the thrust pre-programmed, so all I have to do is brace myself. As we approach, I’ll activate the grav-plate and attach my boots. When we hit the stabiliser field, the grav-plate should synchronise with the field and negate my inertia. That’s when we fire the jets.”

I am well versed in the plan, First Mate Donovan.

“I know, it’s more for me than you. Helps to focus on the task at hand, talking it out.”

Very well, if it helps.

“And you don’t always have to be formal. Please, call me Seth.”

I apologise, Seth. Formalising your names helps me to categorise you and assign functions and hierarchies to your social standing.

“Our social standing?”

I am fascinated by the way living beings interact with each other, there are literally dozens of social standings on the Dreaming alone, amongst the crew. You interact with other crew in different ways, depending on who they are, what their current function is, who else is present in the compartment, and what is happening about the ship. You also behave very differently when clothed or unclothed.

My face started to turn red. “Oh god, you can see us in our cabins?”

Negative, Seth. I was only joking. Zoe has been teaching me about the role humour has in dangerous circumstances. She says you and several of the crew employ it to relieve tension and stress. Have I been inappropriate?

“Ah, no. That was quite a good one actually. I had this horrible thought that you were watching Zoe and I…er. Do things.”

What things would you be referring to?

“You know…”

I’m afraid I do not, Seth.

“Living things.”

Oh. Such as eating?

“No. Like…er. When a male and a female…of the same species…when they…when full grown adults…” What the hell was I doing? Having the birds and the bee’s conversation with an AI while about to do an axial deployment on a Corporate warship? “Never mind. Yes, like eating.”

Does watching you eat make you uncomfortable?

“No. Look, let’s change the subject, okay?”

Very well.

With that minefield cleared, I began to mentally prepare myself for my almost suicidal attempt at saving my friends and loved ones. Now that is much more up my alley.

49.

The closer the Xerxes got, the faster it seemed to be travelling. In actuality, it was travelling faster each second, but the rate at which it grew in my vision was startling. It was at this point in an axial deployment that most rookies bail out. The fear that one would collide with the target at too high velocity differential was real, and it took courage and a trust in your own reflexes, your own technology, to see it through.

I aligned my-self so my feet were pointing down, the grav-plav between the ship and my boots. I waited the final few moments with baited breath; my thumb on my jet back thrust controls. If I miscalculated this, and I bounced off the hull, I was as good as dead. Maxine would not be able to come around and pick me up, there were no rescue shuttles in the area to collect floating marines after the battle. I had to wait until the grav-plates synchronised with the stabiliser field of the ship before I could engage my jet pack. If I ignited my thruster too early the inertia of the jet pack would also be cancelled, and I’d collide with the hull with enough force to shatter every bone in my body. I had a window of about half a second.

If I managed to get that window right, I could arrest my velocity with ease, slowing down to a safe speed relative to the ship to allow the bottom of the grav-plate to magnetically clamp to the hull. At first, I thought I’d horribly miscalculated my chances of this occurring, and it only occurred to be half way through my drift through open space, as the hull of these organo-ships were living tissue. Tac had assured me, though, that the outer hulls were constructed, or grown, using an organic composite that include ferrous properties. He said it was essential to starship construction that the hulls were able to interact with electromagnetic forces in order to allow certain functions. He assured me that mag-boots and grav-plate mag clamps would indeed work. Time to put that theory to test.

The Blade of Xerxes was huge, not just big on a starship scale, but truly massive. It was easily several kilometres in length, and several hundred metres in diameter. It was shaped like a giant terrestrial squid, with a bulbous front section that tapered off at the end in a trio of tendrils. It was a solid matte black, with hundreds of arrays and sensor pods all around it. I thought I could make out the rail gun porthole near the centre of the mass. I figured it would be near there as it was a spinal gun that ran the length of the ship.

The final distance closed to a few metres, and I saw that I was in trouble already. The hull curved, sweeping back towards the outer flanges of the main bulk further back on the ship. The angle would mean that I had a very real risk of simply sliding off, despite doing everything right. My training kicked into over drive, and I angled the grav-plate to match the hull, but due to the angle of approach, it wouldn’t make much difference. My overlay pulsed white, my signal from Tac that I’d synchronised with the stabiliser field. I activated the jet pack and bent my knees slightly.

With a bone jarring impact, I hit the hull, and the grav-plate mag clamps struggled to grip the hull. As I feared, the angle of force directed me towards the rear of the ship and I began to slide at an alarming rate. My back was throbbing in pain, as were my knees. I halted the jet pack burn and leant forward, falling onto my hands. I engaged the mag clamps in my gloves and gradually began to feel myself slow. A passing antenna array warned me to turn around and try to see where I was sliding. A head, about fifteen metres down was another array, all jutting spikes and branch-like outcroppings. If I hit that, a suit tear would mean the end of me. I tried to angle my slide by flailing my arms on the hull, trying to anchor myself somehow, but it was no good. In desperation, I use Spatial Translation and teleported fifty metres but up the slope, from the direction I came. I still had my momentum, but the grav-plate mag clamps had not re-engaged. I released my boots’ lock on the plate and kicked it away, using my own mag boots to grip the hull. I was on all fours, feet and hands, sliding still, but now I had more control. Eventually, I slowed to a halt, my arms shaking with effort and my breathing heavy. I waited a few moments to catch my breath.

“Tac, please let the Dreaming know that I have successfully completed stage one.”

Certainly, Seth. Congratulations.

I took stock of my surroundings. I could stand now, and I stretched my legs and bent my back to try and work some of the pain out. No broken bones, no sprains or other deadly debilitating injuries. I unhooked my equipment bag and rummaged around for my tool bag, extracting a pen shaped device, careful not to dislodge anything and lose it to outer space. I secured the bag again, and activated the device. A light green light emitted from the end, and I played it slowly over the hull all about me. It was a hand scanner that would map the surface looking for anomalies that could indicate the presence of an airlock. A three dimensional map appeared in my overlay as I scanned, and soon Tac highlighted an area about forty metres away towards the…well. I hadn’t yet designated an ‘up’ and ‘down’, but I guess I could use the front of the ship as ‘up’. The hatch was to my left and down about thirty degrees.

I carefully made my way over to the hatch and looked for any controls. Better yet, I found a small view port that showed the darkened interior of the airlock. I pointed my scanner into the port and mapped out the inside.

“I have enough info to translate directly into the ‘lock. Density of the atmosphere indicates it’s pressurised, so unless I want to alert the ship to a hull breach, this is the best way. Worth the expenditure of charge.”

I concur. Informing the Dreaming of stage 2 progress. The Captain wishes you a speedy return, and Zoe sends her love.

“Okay, here we go.”

I concentrated on the space inside the airlock and activated the Spatial Translation paradigm. The shift in gravity was disorienting, and I fell to the deck like a sack. The ship’s local gravity was oriented so that ‘down’ was aft, towards the stern of the ship. I untangled myself from the mess I’d fallen in and began to strip down out of my space suit. It was a struggle, these suits were never meant to be put on by a single person, but eventually I was free of its burden. I pulled on the Infantry Vest and my ablative coat, strapped on my PX-2, attached my brace of grenades and party poppers, stowed my extra batteries on my webbing, clipped the lurzak to my belt, slung Tac over my shoulder and attached an anchor point to my webbing at my back and hooked the bag with the explosive charges next to it. My tool bag was slung from a utility hook on the other side from the sword.

I examined the inner ‘lock hatch, and found the access panel. I inserted Fel’s override device and a green light lit on the controls. The hatch slid open and I stepped into a long darkly lit passageway. The air in here was warm, and had a strange smell to it. I could feel a breeze flowing aft and hear a hushed sound like a constant breath.

“Is that the life support making that sound?”

There are several oxygen organs at the far end of this passageway. I would assume the organs would try to circulate air constantly about the ship.

“It’s warmer in here than the Dreaming.”

Also the result of using living organs for life support. All of the organs generate heat as a by-product, which in turn bleeds into the ship as heating. It is a very efficient system.

“We can marvel at its ingenuity from afar, while it’s drifting disabled through space and I’m escaping in a ship back to the Dreaming.”

I understand, Seth. I shall focus my commentary on purely factual and advisory observations.

“Appreciated. Which way now? I can’t linger here for too long.”

Ships of large scale need fast means of transportation along their axis, for emergency and operational requirements. I would advise you locate one as soon as possible.

I moved at a brisk jog towards to my left. The passage curved around in both directions and I passed a hatch on my way. I paused to see if there were any notifications or designations on the hatch, but could find none save for an alpha numeric code – C2:028.

I continued on my way, passing several more hatches. Each one had an ascending number – C2:029, C2:030, C2:031. I began to realise that each number represented the access hatch. The C2 probably represented the deck number. After jogging for about ten minutes, I’d come full circle. I had passed C2:040 and the numbers had begun again at C2:001. The airlock hatch was C2:028. I would have to enter one of these hatches.

I returned to C2:001 and pressed the release button. The hatch slid open to reveal another passageway ahead about twenty metres the ended in a T-junction. I checked the designation on the combing behind me as I stepped through. It read B2:015. The letter must represent the ring of compartments on each deck. I said as much to Tac.

Logic would dictate that the main access corridor should be on ring A.

“I agree. If the hatches follow the same pattern, the access to ring A should be at B2:001.”

I trotted off in one direction, and found B2:014. As I was running past it I heard the hatch begin to open, and I turned around with my carbine at the ready. I kneeled as a figure stepped out of the hatch and turned their back to me without a care. The figure walked away, in the middle of a conversation on his overlay, no doubt. He was a dark blue jump suit and was unarmed. I watched and waited, and when the figure was almost around a bend, he checked a pocket and came up empty. He turned about as if he’d forgotten something and saw me. He froze and starred down at my gun. Don’t do it, I thought. He did. He turned and was about to run, but I opened up with a three round burst straight into his back. He fell to the deck, his flesh a smocking ruin. He was dead by the time I got to him. I checked down the passageway as far as I could see and rummaged through his pockets. I found a writing stylus and a packet of candy. I sighed and began to drag his corpse back to the hatch he’d left. I checked the compartment first, finding it to be an empty office with a couple of consoles and a desk. There was a cupboard against one bulkhead, and a half-empty stationary store. I pushed the body into the cupboard and closed the door. It would have to do.

I left the compartment and continued on my way, counting the hatches as they went down towards B2:001. I had two more encounters on the way, but luckily, I was able to duck out of sight while the crew walked away. My luck would not last.

I made it to B2:001 and opened the hatch. Inside was much like when I entered C2:001, a straight corridor that lead to a T-junction, which was also a ringed passageway. Suddenly, a pulsing light and an alert sounded. A throaty, deep sounding voice carried throughout the passageway, and for a moment, I thought I’d been discovered. What I heard chilled me to the bone, though.

“All hands, prepare for firing. Three rounds. T898 Thermal warheads.”

In moments, I heard a vibrating chuffing sound that echoed throughout the entire section. Three times. I hoped the Dreaming was ready. I had to pick up my pace. I ran around the passageway, counting down towards A2:001. In my haste, I made a mistake and ran straight into view of three crew walking towards me. They were surprised, and only one was armed. I stitched all three across the bellies with my carbine, and they died thrashing in pain. I walked up them and made sure they were dead before looking around for a place to hide their bodies. The nearest hatch was A2:007. I popped the hatch and covered the entrance with my gun. It was an equipment room of some kind. Occupied by a single crew, bent over a console in concentration. He looked up as I opened the door and was confused by what he saw. My first shots caught him squarely in the chest and he died, still unsure of what he was seeing. I dragged the corpses to the compartment and hid them behind and beneath the consoles. This appeared to be a monitoring station of some kind.

“Tac, is there anything here you can interface with that might give us some information about the ship?”

One moment. Yes, there is a configurable display on the farthest console. I believe I can access the ship’s deck plan from there. Low level information only.

“Better than nothing. Do it. How long will you need?”

Downloading information now.

“I forgot how fast you can crack systems.”

Sending packet to your overlay.

I brought up the information, and saw that my guess was right. The decks were arrayed in concentric circles, stacked on top of each other. There were twenty nine decks, all up. The last twenty were along the tail spine, but the majority of deck space was in the main bulk in the forward section. Three spinal corridors ran the length of the ship.

I believe one of those central shafts is the rail gun. The other two should be a main access corridor and secondary access corridor.

I left the compartment and made my way around to A2:001, careful not to make the same mistake. Sure enough, the hatch led to a large semi-circular compartment with two large hatches against a straight bulkhead in the centre. I also spotted a few security cameras in the compartment. I ducked out of sight of them, and consulted Tac once more.

“I should be able to mask myself from those cameras with my Invisibility paradigm, but opening one of those hatches will probably alert security.”

Agreed. These access corridors will more than likely be heavily monitored.

“Any ideas?”

Locate an access pass of some kind? Alternatively, allow me to access the panel using the override device.

“How long will you need to clear us through?”

Security here should be stronger than previously encountered. I will need several minutes to break through the encryption.

“I don’t know if I can keep us hidden that long.”

Trying to locate an access pass may be even riskier.

“I have an idea. I don’t need to go in search of a pass, I can have one brought to me instead. If I create a distraction, some kind of minor emergency, I can ambush the responders. They should have unfettered access to the main corridors.”

That is a sound assessment.

I returned to the C2 ring, which seemed to be the outer section of this deck, and fixed a charge to one of the bulkheads. Art had fitted the charges with small wireless detonators, allowing me to link to each bomb separately and set them off. I figured a hull breach would get a small damage control team here to seal it off, and could easily be explained as debris from the Dreaming striking the hull. Hopefully.

I set the charge, and pulled back to another compartment that I’d checked for vacancy. When I was ready, I detonated the bomb, and could hear the muffled thud of it going off. A faint whistle could be heard on the other side of the compartment, and I’d selected a non-airtight hatch to use so that the O2 could escape from the main passageway as well. A warning sounded, and I didn’t have to wait long before a response was seen. Two men appeared wearing emergency breathers, small canisters strapped to their belts feeding air to a facemask. They carried damage control bags and a couple of cans of polycrete foam. One of them spoke into a bulkhead mounted communication panel and reported the scene. I waited for them to enter the compartment and begin repairs. When the whistle died down, I entered the compartment behind them. They were smoothing over a wire mess on top of a polycrete plug they’d sealed up the breach with. I’d funnelled the blast to only damage a portion of the hull, so they could easily repair it. I grabbed the nearest one from behind and drove my lurzak blade into his spine, my hand over his mouth. When the other turned to see what the flailing about was, he was shocked to see me rip the blade from his dead comrade and I advanced upon him menacingly. He picked up a heavy wrench from his tool bag, but he was no warrior. I cut him down, slicing him open from shoulder to hip.

I thought about the bloodshed, the people I was killing. I felt a pang of regret that I was called upon to kill unarmed civilians, but then I remembered the alternative. These were people fixed upon killing my own people. It was them or us. I was determined to make it them. I didn’t bother to hide the bodies, but I did find an access pass on them both. I figured they would at least get me access to one of the spinal corridors.

I returned to the A2 ring, and the central compartment. With an extension of my will, I sent my nanites into the security cameras in the room, erasing my presence from their digital systems. I strode up to one of the hatches and swiped the card. It opened into a large platform, an elevator. I examined the control panel, I still had no idea where to find the propulsion brains, but I bet they were somewhere down near the lower sections. I keyed in deck twenty-seven. With a barely perceptible jerk, the elevator began its decent into the heart of the ship, the bulkheads falling away to reveal the shaft sides.

After a few moments, the walls slid away completely, and I saw a large, open corridor that we travelled down. Beside my elevator was another, to allow dual transit directions at the same time. There, about fifty metres away, was the main shaft of the rail gun. On the far side of the corridor was another elevator system. The corridor opened up even more the further I got, and I could see many platforms and walkways snaking around the corridor sides. The shaft was perhaps two hundred metres in diameter at its widest, and I could see several flying drones performing maintenance in places. This ship was truly huge.

Eventually, I reached deck twenty-seven, and the doors opened. I peered out, located the security cameras and blanked them as well. I moved with haste to a hatch at the far end of the compartment. Like the A2 deck, this was a semi-circular affair, however were before the decks were pristine smooth decking and painted bulkheads this deck was bare steel and grated deck plates. The air smelled more strongly of the same scent I detected earlier. The sound of the ship’s propulsion was strong here, a steady thumping drone that permeated the air.

“We need to find an engineering console to hook you up to.”

I concur, Seth.

I left the elevator compartment and entered A27. The other side was a large compartment that ringed the entire deck. There were dozens of machinery and maintenance benches about, and it seemed I’d stumbled upon a workshop of some kind. There were people working at the machines, and no one looked up as entered and hid behind a large lathe. There was a lot of activity going on here.

“What are they making?”

I believe this is an ammunition manufactory for the rail gun.

“They’re building shells?”

It would appear so.

“Where are they getting the materials for the more exotic rounds?”

Unsure, but there should be trace elements of the compounds in the area that would be detectable with your nanites.

I reached out with my senses, and sure enough, the nanites picked up several elements that could only be described as exotic. I ordered my overlay to display trails of the stuff in my vision, and I could see several converging points where they must have transported the material. Time to place some charges.

I snuck between machines, darting across opening and under benches. Thankfully, most of the people in here were too busy to look up from their machining and assembly. I saw a couple of synthetics working alongside them, probably handling the more dangerous materials and substances. When I was twenty metres from the store, I saw the hatch to compartment open and out walked a synthetic that carried a bundle of dull grey rods displaying all manner of warning labels. I waited until it left and translated into the open hatchway, darting around a corner in the storeroom. There were dozens of containers, each labelled with warning signs and listing many different compounds that I didn’t recognise. I looked around for a good place to put some bombs, when I stumbled across a synthetic exiting a container. I sent my nanites into it, stripping the electrons from the atoms around it. Instantly the air crackled with the Ionise paradigm and it jerked suddenly before falling to the ground and twitching. I stomped on its chassis until I was sure it was destroyed.

I checked the open container and thought it was a good a place as any. I set a charge down behind a rack of canisters and containers, and stuff the broken synthetic inside before closing the hatch. I set the detonator to go off in two hours. No telling if I would be able to come back this way, so remotely detonating was out of the question.

I left the storeroom, and hid under another big machine. There was a conveyor belt nearby, carrying large cylindrical shell housings. I followed the conveyor to its source, a large metal rolling press that was forming the shells. I attached another bomb to its power access port and set it to go off in just less than two hours. If all else failed, I would cripple this ship’s ability to reproduce these rounds. I had two bombs left.

I watched from my hiding spot as two more synthetics pushed trolleys loaded with more shells towards a large hatch in one bulkhead. I tried to follow, but it was too risky. I did get close enough to see a sign mentioning access to a magazine. Using this information, I was able to extrapolate from my low lever deck plan that these lower sections were actually the railgun sections. The propulsion must be further up. I returned to the access corridor and, after checking the rough deck plan I had, keyed in deck nine this time.

The elevator opened into another semi-circular security compartment, like before, that led into a passageway that disappeared on either side, much like the first deck I had entered. I knew from my deck plan that this was the largest deck, at the widest part of the hull. In the passageway, I quickly found an information display depicting various compartments around the deck. I was in luck; this was a main engineering area.

“Tac, how do you suggest we locate the brain? I don’t want to wander around blindly.”

Your original plan of finding an engineering console is the best plan. Locating a fuel line and following it may also yield a control nexus.

“This chart shows a few compartments that may have what we need. There’s a generator control room in E9:073. That appears the closest. There doesn’t appear to be one Central Control compartment, but several surrounding the deck. Besides, they’ll be too heavily guarded.”

I left and made my way towards the hatch to leave this ring. It wasn’t long before I began to encounter more crew. This was a busy deck, after all. The first I heard coming long before I saw them, and I was able to secret myself in a hatch that luckily led to an unoccupied compartment filled with thrumming machines. I let them pass by and moved on. At deck C9 I found myself stuck between two groups of oncoming crew, from both directions. I couldn’t risk getting to a hatch, as I had no time to get there. I pulled out my scrambler and activated it, then advanced on the group in front of me. As soon as I saw them, I opened fire. There were three of them and the first two died in the first hail of hard light bullets. The third turned and ran, but I cut him down from behind. The group behind me must have heard their screams because they came running with side arms drawn. I let loose a barrage of shots that saw the first of four go down and one fall back with a wounded arm. They got off a trio of shots that I caught on my nanite Shield paradigm that sprang into place. They started to fall back, desperately calling for aid on comm systems that would not work.

Like an automaton, I gunned them down. One by one they fell. It was brutal work, but necessary, I told myself. Us or them. I popped my nearly flat battery cell from my carbine and reloaded. I suddenly heard a noise behind me and turned in time to see a crewman running back the way they’d come. They must have investigated the noise and saw the bodies of the first three I’d killed. They’d run almost immediately. I gave chase, but knew they had too much of a lead on me. I saw the tail end of them disappear behind a hatch. When I got to it, it was locked from the other side. They’d be on to me soon. Although the scrambler would take out short-range communications, there was bound to be a hard line system around here somewhere, and intercom panel or something. I left at a run, only a few hundred metres to go before I got to the generator room.

Couldn’t be helped, things were about to get very busy.

50.

I ran into two more groups before the alarms went off. I shot at both groups before they had a chance to react, killing almost all of them instantly. I knew that these were non-combatants, un-armoured and un-shielded, and when the security forces responded my fights would get a lot more deadly. I didn’t even bother to hide the bodies now. The alarms sounded when I was only a few metres from E9:073. Red lights pulsed and that same throaty voice barked out orders for security to respond to intruders on deck nine. The voice also informed the crew that all rings were secured until further notice.

I got to the hatch and found it was locked. I used the override device again, and precious seconds ticked by while Tac hacked the systems. While I waited, a group of crew rounded a bend and saw me. They started and made to turn to flee, I got off a few rounds before they dashed out of sight.

“Come on, Tac. Tell me you almost have it!”

Standby.

“They’re going to know where we are soon!”

Standby, Seth. Almost done.

Another group came into view, although these were still not security personnel, they were armed and ready for me. Their first few shots were wide, as I crouched down using a bulkhead strut as cover. I returned fire and forced them to seek cover of their own. I hit one and he went down with a yell. His comrades grabbed him and dragged him back.

The hatch is open, Seth. I advise you withdraw.

I pulled back into the hatch and closed it behind me. There came a yell of surprise as two crew looked up from their consoles. I turned my gun on them and they held their hands up in surrender.

“Back up, or I shoot you both!” I ordered. They backed away from their consoles. “Tac, see if you can interface with the console.”

Attempting to hack security measures. Stand by.

“Where’s the propulsion control brain?” I asked the two crew. They looked at each other and back at me. One shook his head, the other shrugged. I fired a trio of blasts at a console and waited until they’d finished flinching. “Where’s the brain!?”

“We don’t know! We’re only junior grade engineers! They don’t tell us that kind of stuff.” said one.

“Bullshit. I’m going to kill one of you, then the other, unless you tell me. You have until my AI Core hacks this console until I execute you both.”

One of them looked at the console, and I could see what he was thinking. He dashed towards the console and tried to duck behind it, probably to activate a shutdown or the like. He never made it. I shot him square in the forehead and the back of his head exploded all over his colleague. The surviving engineer sputtered and coughed, then vomited all over the deck. I kicked him in the side and rolled him over, pointing my gun at his face.

“Where is the brain?!”

“Deck eight! Deck eight! Compartment B8:022! Please don’t kill me!” I cracked him on the temple with my carbine and he collapsed out cold.

“Got it, Tac. Let’s go.”

I turned to the hatch, expecting the crew outside to be waiting for me, but the hatch wouldn’t open. I pushed on the latch hard, but it wouldn’t budge. The bastards had sealed me in. Probably waiting for security to arrive. Shit. Clever pricks. I checked my deck plan once more. I could probably reach the curve of the passageway a little, and translate out to there. I didn’t want to pop out right out front of the hatch, they’d just gun me down. It was risky teleporting blindly like this, I knew, the paradigm didn’t account for obstacles that may be present at the location, and I risked appear inside something that would pretty much killed me outright or horribly cripple me. To hell with it.

I appeared less than a metre from a small squad of armoured security personnel. They wore matte black armour with face shields and carried carbines like the one I had. They were rushing in my direction and only years of combat training and duelling with Crege allowed me to react almost instantaneously. I cracked the nearest one in the face with my carbine and let the gun go, swinging it on its strap. In one smooth motion, I drew the lurzak free of its scabbard and chopped at another man turning to face me in surprise. With a bright flash, the blade activated the electro-tip and I severed the man’s arm at the shoulder. He screamed in pain, startling the other four men in the squad. I moved between them, slicing and chopping like a madman. With each contact, the blade flared and did its best to explode the flesh and armour that it touched. The last two opened fire on me, cutting down the last one I was attacking with friendly fire. I suddenly felt better about killing these Corporates, if they could justify killing their own comrades just to save themselves. My shield absorbed most of the fire, but it was quickly overwhelmed and I felt several rounds ablate on my coat before I reached them. I drove my blade directly into the chest plate of the one on the right, the tip ripping apart the armour and exposing the flesh beneath, the steel doing the rest of the work. With my blade lodged in the man’s chest, I whipped my PX-2 out of its holster and fired four rounds into the last man’s face. He went down in a spray of gore and pieces of helmet. I pulled the lurzak from the dead man’s chest and ran off towards the next ring entrance.

The blade had a flashing amber indicator on the hilt. I popped a battery out of the lower handle and inserted a new one, reaching the hatch to the delta ring on this deck. I peeked around a corner and saw another squad running towards this one. I put the lurzak and PX-2 away and readied the carbine and a frag grenade. When they reached the hatch, I pulled back and toss the grenade into the short passageway. It detonated just as they noticed it, yelping in surprise. The thud of the blast pushed debris around the hatch combing and a few pieces cut my arm slightly. Swung around to the hatch and opened fire on anything still moving. A pair were still standing, further back, and they were the first to get shot. I stitched my fire into the writhing mass of wounded on the deck. None would stand again.

I climbed through and continued on my way. I made the next ring, charlie, with no encounters, but bravo was being barricaded near the hatch T-junction. I tossed another grenade while they set up, and in the chaos I translated passed it and kept running. The A9 ring had several unarmed crewmen scrambling for cover, and I fired into the deck head to motivate them further. Showering sparks and debris came down around them, and they keep away. When I got to the elevator, I could see a command post was being set up. There was another squad of security, plus a large Frikk and a pair of assault synthetics waiting for me.

I thought fast, tossing my final grenade into the mix and firing a barrage at the Frikk. He dived into a mobile cover barricade and the grenade blast didn’t get him. The security guards were blasted backwards, and a few survivors began to scramble to cover. The assault synthetics simply advanced into the fire, buying the living precious seconds to organise a counter assault. I ionised the front one and then translated past them behind their own barricades. The Frikk turned in surprise and tried to bring his weapon around but I unleashed a full auto blast into his chest where he lay. Three security guards managed to get to their feet and return fire. A couple of shots that hit me square in the chest pushed me back and I hit the bulkhead behind me. I fired wildly at them, forcing their heads down and I used the suppression to find cover of my own.

As I hastened to pull myself out of line of sight, a motion above me caused me to look up in time to see a synthetic reaching over the barricade and grabbing me. It yanked me up and shot me in the belly with its hand-mounted gun. The vest took most of the energy of the shot, but it still winded me somewhat. I kicked with both my feet into the robot’s check and I tore free of its grasp. I slid backwards on my butt, and as I did, I opened up on the synthetic. In moments, its shield flared out and I hammered the remainder of my shots into its armour. It went down in a hail of gunfire.

I was hurting. My carbine was flashing a deep red, so I popped the battery and put another in. The remaining security guards used the distraction to flank me, and I barely managed to get back into cover before I was shot at. My arm burned in pain, as I knew one round got through my ablative coat. I could still feel my fingers so I knew it wasn’t serious. I sent nanites flooding through my blood as I activated my Repair paradigm, and the flood of adrenaline and endorphins, along with enriched blood, allowed me to catch a second wind. I sprang to my feet and leapt clear over the barricade I was pinned behind. As I flew, I let loose with a trio of shots that caught one guard in the chin. I saw his helmet come flying off amidst a cloud of red mist. I landed heavily and I kept firing from the prone position catching another in the chest. The last ducked down behind his own cover and I got to my feet. I side stepped, still firing relentlessly at his position, causing him to keep his head down. Before I got around to his flank I saw his arms go up in the air with his carbine in them.

“Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot!” he called, desperately.

“Get up! Toss the carbine! And the side arm!” I commanded. He did so, and I saw he was a young man, terrified for his life. “Elevator, now!”

I led him to the lift and we got in, I ordered him to key in Deck 8. It buzzed and flashed red.

“Use your security pass. Unlock it!” I ordered. He complied, and the elevator doors shut. We started to move upwards. The elevator came out into the open corridor, and I saw there were dozens of drones starting to head in our direction. I was glad we were only going two decks, I didn’t want to ride this thing with those drones taking pot shots at me. The elevator reached Deck 8 and the doors slid open. Luckily, there were no security teams here yet. I ordered my prisoner to lead the way and told him to hurry.

“B8:022, on the double. You slow down and I kill you where you stand. Get moving!”

He led me down the passageway, passing a few crew on the way. They pulled back when they saw me, and the guard had to peace of mind to warn the crew away as he saw them. We were soon at B8:022.

“Open it!” He swiped his card, but nothing happened. He swiped again with no effect.

“They’ve locked me out!” he cried, “It’s not my fault!”

“Where are the Eclipse Fighters stored?”

“What?”

“The fighters! Where?”

“Deck 24.”

“Where?”

“The whole deck is a hangar.”

“Thanks.” I hit him in the head with my carbine. He went down, but he was still conscious. I hit him again and he was out cold. I swiped my override device at the access panel and got Tac to start on the door.

“Options?” I asked.

I estimate that enemy patrols will reach this location before I can override the controls.

“Should I risk teleporting to the other side?”

That would be highly dangerous. A last resort, surely.

“How long would my Dissolve paradigm take to eat through this hatch?”

Significantly longer than my hacking would take.

“One of my charges? Would that take out the hatch?”

Probably. Will only one charge be enough to destroy the brain?

“I’ll have to risk it. No point saving a bomb if we’re going to die before getting the chance to use it.” I set the charge against the hatch, right where the locking mechanism would be. The charges were shaped to send most of their force towards whatever they were fixed to, so I knew it would be a focused blast. I linked to the bomb and then pulled back into cover behind a bulkhead strut. The bomb detonated at my command, and I was glad to see the hatch was trashed. I yanked it free of the combing and climbed through the hatchway.

The compartment was instantly different from the rest of the passageways and compartments I’d seen so far. The deck and the bulkheads were a strange pink meaty substance, and a dark purple liquid was leaking from a ragged tear where the hatch blast had reached. There was a pungent odour, like yeast or fermented malt. A pale, pinkish like emanated from further in the compartment. I stepped in, careful not to step in the purple fluid.

I followed the passage down a short bend and the compartment opened up into a spherical chamber about thirty metres across. In the centre, resting amidst a mass of thick, cord-like veins was a large mucus encrusted lump of flesh. The veins ran from the brain thing to the outer walls, and I could see a steady stream of purple fluid flowing in their centres. A single man tended to the brain, clothed in a plastic jumpsuit. He knelt by the thing and was finishing an injection into one of the veins. He looked up with a puzzled expression.

“You should not be in here.” He stated, simply.

“No shit, arsehole. Now step aside or I kill you too.”

He smiled at me, a kind of predatory grin. I was instantly wary. Anyone who smiled at someone who just threatened to kill you was either insane, stupid or very dangerous. Most were a mix of all three.

“Let’s put aside these crude weapons and speak like civilised men.” As he spoke, he pointed at my carbine. Suddenly, I noticed that the weapon was crumbling in my grasp! The weapon simply fell into ruin, its components falling through the brittle, powdery remains of its body. “There, isn’t that better?”

“What the fuck?”

“Now, why don’t you take a seat, and wait for the nice young men coming to take you away?” As he spoke I became drowsy, I stumbled slightly and reached for my head, trying to shake the feeling loose.

He is using nano-proliferation on you, Seth. Counter his effect with Repair!

I sent my nanites flooding through my system, and I began to clear my head. A strange look came over his face, what could only be described as glee.

“Ah! A G-Type! How wonderful! Allow me to take those pretty little things from you…” he reached out with his hands, and I suddenly felt the most horrid sensation. It felt like sand was being pulled through my body, grinding my molecules. I tried to hit the man with an Ionise blast, but I couldn’t control my nanites. “That’s right…these belong to me now. Don’t fight. It will be over soon. I’ll have all your miraculous little helpers and they’ll tear you apart, molecule by molecule.”

I was suddenly very afraid. This man had an exceptional grasp of nano-proliferation; he was literally controlling my own implant. I was helpless to stop him! I yelled in pain, as my own nanites started to tear me apart. I started to cough and splutter, and I could taste blood in my mouth. My eyes started to mist over with a red tinge, and I began to spasm and shake.

Somehow, through my agony, I recalled something that Fel’negr had told me, during my early training with NP. If you come to rely on them, your other skills will degrade, and then when you most need them they’ll be gone.

I’d certainly not relied upon them exclusively. I drew my sidearm and shot the man in the chest. The pain stopped instantly. I slumped to the soft ground, as the man collapsed, a look of surprise on his face. I got up and walked over to him, spitting blood from my mouth as I did. He was barely conscious and looked up at me with a look that implied he couldn’t believe this had happened. Then the look turned to utter hatred. He tried to speak, but all that came out was a wracking cough filled with blood. He spat blood on my boots as I watched him. Then I put two rounds into his head.

I turned to face the meaty organ in the centre. I didn’t have much time. I pulled out my last charge and shoved it into the mass of organs and meat. As I left the chamber, I activated the bomb, and it flew apart in an explosion of meat and gore. Dark purple fluid spewed out of the severed veins, pumping the warm liquid everywhere. It began to pool in the central depression.

A great weight lifted from my shoulders as if I could suddenly breathe again. My mission was successful. The Dreaming would be safe. That was all that mattered. My own survival was secondary, merely a bonus objective at this point.

“Deck 24.”

Hurry, security teams will be catching up with you shortly.

“Right. The elevator will be swarming by now. Any other routes?”

Calculating. Follow the indicator on your overlay.

A faint yellow line appeared on my overlay, augmenting my vision. I followed the trail and ran as fast as I could. I checked the time. By now, the other charges would be going off as well. I saw a few more crew on the way; they either turned and ran or cowered in terror. I realised then that I was coated in the purple liquid and blood. I was a fearsome sight, indeed. I used it to my advantage, pulling the lurzak free with one hand and wielding the PX-2 in the other. Anyone I saw I shot at, either their feet or the deck head. I yelled and waved the blade menacingly at them. I seemed ridiculous, but most sane people would run from such a sight.

Soon the yellow trail led to a vent grating. I pulled it free of the bulkhead and crawled in.

“Where are you taking me?”

The main access corridor.

“Through this vent?”

Correct.

After about a hundred metres, the vent ended in another grate. I looked through it and gasped. Tac wasn’t kidding around. Sure enough, the main access corridor was on the other side of the vent.

“Tac, how am I supposed to climb down there?”

Your mag boots should provide ample footing.

“Oh, yeah. Still, I’m kind of exposed out there.”

It was the best I could come up with, given the available data.

“No, it’s all right. It will have to do. Can you see the hangar entrance from up here?”

Not yet, Seth. You will need to get closer.

I sighed and pushed the vent grating out. It fell with a clatter, sliding down before bouncing off an outcropping and tumbling into the corridor proper. I lost sight of it as it fell the remaining kilometre or so to the end of the shaft. A wave of vertigo hit me as my mind tried to grasp the sheer scale of the drop before me. I tried to swallow, my mouth suddenly very dry.

“Oh, boy.”

Should I find another route?

“Nope. I got this. I think.”

I started to climb out, gingerly lowering myself over the lip and into the giant shaft. It was very gusty in there, and I was having second thoughts. I sucked it up and put my feet against the inner hull, activating my magnetic clamps on my boots. I carefully put my weight on them, and they held. I wished then that I’d brought my space suit gloves with me, as they also had magnetic pads on the palms. I climbed down fully, looking about for something else to grip and found that the hull plates had decent gaps between them that I could slip my fingers in. I climbed sideways until I found a vertical groove, and then used it to shimmy down. The wind kept fluttering my coat, and I chided myself for not doing up the buttons on the front. A few minutes into it, and my arm was throbbing where I’d been hit. My chest was also giving me grief. I once again flooded my blood with nanites and relished the instant improvement this power gave me.

“How far down?”

You still have 953 metres to go before you are aligned with Deck 24.

“Nine hundred and fifty-three metres?”

I climbed down; straining my muscles with each metre I went. I paused to catch my breath after about ten minutes and had to give myself another jolt with Repair. This was hard work, and I was far from the galaxy’s most skilled climber.

Might I suggest picking up the pace, Seth?

“You can suggest it, but I probably won’t do it.”

The longer you take getting back to the Dreaming, the further it will be from us.

“You know, it suddenly occurs to me that I could do with dropping a few kilograms of equipment. Like your satchel.”

I sense that you are becoming anxious. Should I make an attempt at humour like Zoe suggests?

“Um…no. I’ll definitely drop you then.”

The climb took me nearly three hours. By the end, I’d used a dozen Repair paradigms and still I was exhausted when I finally reached another vent access to climb into. I rested on my belly for a time, catching my breath and just resting. I was almost out of charge, and I couldn’t risk blacking out by using any more nanites. From here on out, it was just my tools and me.

The vent lead a few dozen metres before depositing me in a large hangar that encircled the central shaft. There were about a dozen people about, all in various states of chaos and disarray. Apparently, the ship’s crew had realised what had happened and there was a kind of rushed panic to get the propulsion fixed. I realised then that the ship was shaking every now and then, with slight heaving vibrations. Oops, my bad.

I was hiding behind a group of crates and surveyed the area. I saw four of the Eclipse Fighters and a medium sized shuttle. It looked like a military assault transport, the kind ground pounders rode into planetary assaults. There was also a pair of civilian style shuttles, used to ferry passengers between ships and stations. They were also capable of atmospheric landing. There were varying degrees of cover, getting to one of the ships was going to be risky. What I needed was a distraction. I sat down and pulled out the plasma cutter. I lit it up and set it to burn next to the crates. I then moved away, putting distance between myself and the other crates. Eventually, the cutter would ignite the crates, and hopefully that would distract the hangar occupants enough for me to make a break for it.

Sure enough, after a few minutes, someone noticed the cloud of smoke beginning to rise out of the crates and they sounded the alarm. Several crewmembers ran for firefighting equipment. I made my dash, heading for the nearest fighter and sliding underneath the carriage.

“Tac, can you hack one of these open?”

The override device should allow me to unlock the vehicle. Just get me access to the control panel.

“Right.”

I climbed out of my hiding spot and clambered up onto a ladder that lead to the ship’s cockpit. I found a small control panel near the canopy release and swiped the override over it.

Interfacing. Standby.

“Do I have to stay up here, I’m kind of exposed.”

I need to remain within 1.72 metres of the panel.

“So yes, then. Great.” I hunkered down as best I could, trying to keep a low profile. My only advantage was the hangar was poorly lit, but soon the crate fire I’d started was out and the crew started to return to their previous activities. A couple were walking in this direction, and I was beginning to get worried.

“Tac, how long until you’re done?”

I estimate I will need 2 to 3.4 minutes to defeat this lock.

“Shit. Trouble.”

I am working as fast as I am able.

“Yeah okay, I wasn’t complaining.”

I pulled my PX-2 out and tried to hug the fighter’s fuselage as best I could. The two crewmen were in conversation, so I hoped they wouldn’t notice me. They started to get real close, and I was sure I was going to get spotted, but they walked right on by. I breathed a sigh of relief.

The canopy control is unlocked.

“Good work. Let’s get off this ship.”

I concur.

I popped the canopy open, and no sooner had I done this than the hangar started to flash red lights and an alert sounded.

“All hands! Unauthorised access to hangar vehicles detected!” The throaty voice croaked, louder than ever.

“Shit, Tac! Thought you could open this without being detected?”

My intrusion was not detected. I believe there were sensors placed on the canopy itself. My act of unlocking did not trip the alarm, but opening the canopy physically did.

“We weren’t going to hang around anyway.”

I jumped into the seat and checked around for the controls. They were standard, as far as spacecraft goes. Control yoke, a pair of displays, weapons controls, thrusters, canopy controls. I hit the control to close the lid and it sealed shut with a hissing sound. I turned on the console and waited for it to light up. I could see people starting to run towards the fighter, as they worked out which one I was in. I looked around while the system booted up. Where were the hangar doors? After a few moments, I located a large double door near the outer hull. That had to be it. Suddenly, several bright flashes of small arms fire hit the canopy and ricocheted away startling me.

“Come on, come on, come on!” I chanted.

Eventually, the displays flared to life and started running through diagnostics. In a few moments, I had the results of the power on self-tests and initiated the flight protocols. I heard a sloshing sound, then, and looked down at my feet. The cockpit was filling up with liquid!

“What the fuck!?” I called.

The Eclipse Fighters fill their cockpits with fluid to help resist the excessive gee-forces their acceleration encounters.

“How do I shut it down?”

You can’t. You’ll have to attach the life support rigging to your face.

Crap! I started to look around desperately for a facemask, or breather unit or something that might allow me to breathe oxygen. The fluid was filling fast, and it was starting to rise past my seat.

“Where is it? I can’t find it!”

I twisted in my seat, trying to look behind me, above me, below the back of the seat. Did the pilots take the masks with them and connect them somewhere? If that was the case, I was going to drown. There! By the right armrest on the seat, a compartment popped open when I hit a button near it. There was a mask, but the fluid was soaking it. I was rising up my chest now. I struggle with the mask, trying to get it to fit. It was adjusted for Frikk heads, slightly larger than my own. I pulled it on and tightened the straps, but no air was flowing! I lifted the mask off my nose and mouth and sucked in a deep breath as the fluid rose to my neck. I put the mask back and fiddled with the mask, tracing the tubing back to the recess it came from and found a valve control. I dialled it open and sweet air filled the mask. I breathed deeply.

More hard light bullets hit my canopy, and I suddenly saw a spider web crack appear. When the cockpit was full, the display showed flight data start to compile. I felt the ship lift off its carriage and I grabbed the yoke. I could see the display fairly well through the fluid, and had no trouble accessing the controls. I activated the weapon system and gave the ship an experimental turn. Controls were tight. I turned the ship to face the hangar doors and linked the weapon control to my flight yoke. The weapons charged up and in seconds, I had a green light. I didn’t hesitate. Green plasma bolts lashed out from my fighter to the doors. I kept shooting until I saw them glow bright red and then with a sudden lurch they buckled and exploded outward. The sudden pull of the escaping atmosphere caused my ship to slide towards it. I pulled back and let all the loose equipment, crates and personnel fly out into space. When the atmosphere had vented, then I ignited my thrusters and left the hangar.

I pointed the ship towards the Dreaming and kicked in the main thrusters. I was pushed back in the pilot’s seat as the fighter rocketed away, the gee forces were immense. I didn’t care; I was going home.

51.

My elation at escaping the Blade of Xerxes was short lived. As my body was doing its best effort to resist the forces of acceleration working on me, my attention was drawn to a bank of indicators that lit up a few moments.

Seth, it appears we have company.

“Tell…me…” I squeezed each work out of clenched teeth, struggling to breathe. It felt like a horse was sitting on my chest.

The Blade of Xerxes has launched several drone interceptors. You will have to disable them before continuing to the Dreaming of Atmosphere. They won’t reach that far, but they will catch you before you get out of range.

I tried to reach for the controls but my arms wouldn’t obey me. There was simply too many g forces.

“Help…can’t reach…controls…” I managed to get out, each word a struggle to breathe.

Cutting acceleration in ten seconds, displaying positional data on lower display panel. Standby.

I glanced down and saw a two dimensional representation of the surrounding space appear before me on the screen. There were strange symbols besides eight targets, but I couldn’t get my head around where they were relative to me. “Feed…to overlay…” Tac transferred the data to my overlay, and I accessed an old app that I hadn’t used for years.

I had used the app when I was doing my pilot accreditation training. There were several ways one could gain a recognised pilot’s license, but the classical way was to actually sit the exam and show an instructor what you were capable of. Most of the accreditation was proving you knew interstellar laws and regulations; the rest was a practical demonstration that proved you could handle a small ship.

The Primacy Star Marine Corps made sure that all its marines were accredited as anyone could be called upon to pilot one of the troop assault boats in a pinch. There were always varying degrees of skills, however, and many different configurations of shuttles, drone controls and transports all with different control schemes. One bright spark put together an app that interfaces with most small craft controls and arranges the configurations to something familiar.

In this instance, I didn’t have time to get used to the controls or find out where all the buttons were or what the labels meant. I used the app, and instantly had a familiar grasp of what the layout of all my options were. It sure would be handy if we had something like this for our consoles in the command module of the Dreaming, for when we had to hot seat in a pinch.

Suddenly, the intense pressure on my body dropped away as my main thrusters cut off. I grabbed the control stick and yanked the fighter around on its axis to face my attackers. As I was now flying using the same configuration I was used to on the Dreaming, I could clearly see the eight drones closing in on me fast. They were arrayed into four pairs, forming a flat diamond formation on the same plane as me. I glanced at my weapon controls and called up configuration details. I had seconds before they would be in firing range. I had no idea when I would be in range of their weapons.

My mind raced with possible tactics. I couldn’t out manoeuvre them, I couldn’t out run then, I certainly couldn’t out gun them. The only thing I could do was out think them. They would be controlled by drone pilots on the Xerxes so if I could break their formations, I could target them as individuals or pairs. I had to press them, and keep at it. I couldn’t let them remain organised and act in concert. I hammered the thrusters again and shot towards them.

The pilots were good, I’ll give them that. The instant I ignited my thrust they flipped their formation on its end so that the diamond was upright, and I was heading right into their centre. All four pairs would be able to fire on me at the same time. I wasn’t a fool, however, and this was what I was expecting. I changed my heading a few degrees at the last instant, so that I shot out above them, while my Class 1 turret below my cockpit tracked and fired on the upper formation.

The liquid atmosphere of the cockpit vibrated with the sound of rapid fire energy blasts, and I could feel the sound in my chest and abdomen. Gee forces once more pressed into me, but despite pulling almost nine gee of force it felt like only a few. The inertial stabilisers weren’t that good, it had to be a property of this liquid encasement I was in, I was sure.

One of my contacts flared out, and I corkscrewed back and around, watching as the diamond broke up into an arching pincer formation trying to flank me with the outer arms of the arch. One drone broke away, absent its wing mate. I saw a brilliant staccato of red and green pulsing beams flash by my canopy, and two beams managed to pierce the transparent material. Where the beams hit the liquid, they turned an opaque grey that seemed to absorb the energy from the strike. The beams didn’t penetrate more than about thirty centimetres.

I juked and spun, trying to shake my pursuers. I made to veer to port, but yanked my controls to starboard and cut my thrusters, spun the ship and ignited my thrusters again. I had the central pair of drones within my cone of fire for a split second, and that was all my weapon system needed to stitch them both into expanding clouds of parts and debris.

The remaining pair split immediately into a square and came at me from all angles. I felt a shuddering rattle hammer away at my aft somewhere, and warning lights lit up all along my control dash. My app translated the damage to indicate I’d suffered hits to the starboard fuselage, ripping a gash down my side. In the long run, this was bad news, but as I didn’t plan on staying on the fighter for longer than a few hours it was little more than superficial. I’d also suffered a hit to the aft sensor pod, which now meant I had a large blind spot covering a sixty degree cone directly behind me. Luckily, I’d not lost any control capability.

I spun my ship again, and I yanked as hard as I could while burning the thrusters hard. My mind was nearly torn from my consciousness as the gees drained the blood from my head. I cut the thruster to fifteen percent and reversed my direction, hoping to break up the formation again. The pilots were catching on to my tactic, though, having already fallen for it twice. They parted and my shots went wide. As I poured on the thrust to get clear of them again, they darted back around and reformed. Before they could line up another attack run I cut my thrust again, this time they just shot past me while I remained in the same direction. My weapons blared to life again, firing at first one, then two drones. They blew apart in seconds.

The hard gee manoeuvres were not normally my thing, this was more Crege’s specialty. I’d never have been able to perform these turns in the Dreaming, however. Whatever this fluid was that I swam in, it worked incredibly well with the inertial stabilisers.

A bright flash above me suddenly caught me off guard. The survivor of my first attack had swung wide through the entire dogfight, avoiding me. I’d thought it was because it was damaged, but now I could see that I’d made a mistake. It spent the several moments of the dogfight to go wide and line up a perfect attack run. I spun away, burning the thrusters as hard as they would go, but it was too late. A barrage of beams penetrated the canopy and the cockpit fuselage. Bubbling grey masses formed where the beams were absorbed by the goo, but a searing pain almost made me black out. I screamed into my mask, nearly tearing it from my face in my thrashing about.

I think that the fact I still had a firm grasp of the control yoke saved my life. In my throes of agony, I must have jerked the ship around into a wild uncontrolled spin and any further shots went wide. I could barely see, when the initial shock of my injury passed. The cockpit fluid had become a bubbling, hot mass and was turning a cloudy grey in colour. My left leg was a mass of white hot pain and I could tell one of the beams had lanced it. I couldn’t see how bad the damage was, but I was relieved when I realised I could still feel my toes wriggling in my boot. At least it was still attached. I had more problems. The fluid was painfully hot and was starting to scald my body in places. It wasn’t uniformly hot, but it was hottest around where the beams had penetrated.

When I could think again, I realised that I’d stopped manoeuvring and was putting myself in grave danger. My app had un-synced with the ship, probably due to damage in the cockpit. I tried syncing it up again, but it was slow going. I applied thrust and tried to work out the strange two dimensional display. One of opaque sections of the fluid was blocking my view, but as I watched I noticed that the fluid was moving. It was slowly being pulled down to pair of vents either side of the flight seat, probably to be filtered. I kept manoeuvring, randomly firing my jets intermittently to try and discourage fire control locks. I had no idea where the enemy drones were, all I could work out was where the Xerxes was. I decided to use that as a guide and head as far away from it as I could.

“Tac, I need help. I can’t work out where the enemy is, can you see if you can get the app on my overlay to re-sync with the display?” I asked. There was no reply. “Tac, do you read?” For a bone chilling moment I thought that he’d been hit by one of the beams.

One moment. Conducting electronic warfare against drones.

Elation filled me as I realised what had happened. The drone that almost killed me had gotten close enough for Tac to connect wirelessly with. He must had ridden the control feed back to the drone consoles on the Xerxes and was holding the drones off. I decided that I was going to use this chance to finish this.

I cut my thrusters and swung around. I switched the weapons over to manual targeting and peered through my canopy roof. The fluid up there seemed to be the clearest, having been replaced by a fresh supply of the liquid. I had a good enough view to spot one of the drones. I pointed my ship directly at it and sure enough, a targeting lock appeared on my HUD. I wasted no time, unleashing a torrent of energy bolts at it. I grinned through my pain as I saw a brief flash of light as it blew. I could see the other two drones, drifting calmly along as if in the midst of a patrol.

I turned, locked and fired. The second one blew to pieces. The last one followed suit moments later and I spun about and hit the thrusters once more.

That was…difficult, came Tac’s text, moments later, but educational. I believe I shall be able to perform that function approximately 7.32% more efficiently next time.

“If you want, we can go back and ask them to send more drones for you to practice on?”

That will not be necessary, Seth, I have already requested another wave from the warfare officer on their bridge.

“You what?”

That was a joke, Seth. I was trying to alleviate tension.

“Oh. Well. Yeah, I knew that. Remind me to have a word with Zoe about your humour when I get back. I almost added to the fluid content in this cockpit.”

52.

It didn’t take long for the fighter to catch up with the Dreaming. When I was a few thousand kilometres away, Tac was able to re-establish communications through Fel’s short-range transmitter. I also received a rather nasty message from the Blade of Xerxes. One of the displays showed a flashing icon, indicating a communication was open. I activated it and the screen filled with the face of a rather irate looking individual. He was a gaunt faced, grey haired man with the kind of features that bespoke of extensive gene therapy and bio-augmentation to extend life. The man was wearing a crisp, simple uniform with a crest on the lapels of a stylised KX. I knew instinctively that I was seeing the captain of the Blade of Xerxes for the first time. The image on the screen spoke.

“You may think that you have escaped justice, but in reality you have made a terrible enemy this day. Whoever you are, I give you my oath, as captain of this ship, that I will bend whatever resources available to me through my standing in the Korveli-Xue Galactic Corporation to right the grievous wrong you have inflicted on my ship and my crew this day.

“You have angered one of the gods of the galaxy, and are but a flea resting upon the lions paw. You will rue this day I so…” I switched off the display. I hated pompous asses like him. Fuck him.

“Tac, relay to Max that I’m coming in by the port airlock. I’m going to have to translate into the airlock, as there’s no way to get out of this ship while it’s in space. I don’t have a space suit on.” I checked my charge. It was dangerously low, but there was no other way to do this. The journey over here had allowed me to regain a small amount of charge, so I hoped it was enough to see me through this last attempt. It would be very anti-climactic if I expired after fighting my way through so much.

I brought the ship in slowly by the ‘lock. I could see it lit up inside, and knew there was air in there.

Captain Cooper says that the airlock is ready for you. Proceed whenever you wish, Seth.

“One more risk, Tac. Then we’re home.”

I don’t mind admitting that I am glad this is over with. I find my natural sensors to be somewhat limiting after spending time within the Dreaming’s sensor nexus.

“I know what you mean. It’s hard to pull away when I connect to it with my nanites too.”

I’ll see you inside, Seth. Good luck.

“Thanks for your help; I couldn’t have done it without you.”

That is a correct observation.

“Ha, there’s that humour again.”

I took a deep breath and pulled my mask off, and with an effort of will shifted between dimensions to the airlock awaiting me. I popped into the airlock amidst a ball of the cockpit fluids and fell heavily to the deck. The fluid splashed around me and left me sputtering for air. I started laughing when I realised that Max was going to kill me for getting her airlock so filthy. The others found me like that, lying in a pool for greenish liquid, laughing. They must have thought I was delirious. In a way, I was. Denno and Zoe rushed into the airlock and sat me up. Zoe started running instruments over me, checking my wounds. I kept laughing. Max just stood in the inner airlock hatch smiling at me.

“Sorry I messed up your airlock, Captain! Permission to come on board!” I reported between chortles.

“Get your arse up off the deck and come give me a hug!” she ordered. Zoe and Denno helped me to my feet, and Zoe got the first hug. I limped over the Max, Zoe under one arm and Denno under the other and gave Max a big hug as well. Behind her were the rest of the crew, they were all smiling, even Mal.

“I think I need a shower.” I declared.

Max agreed, “You definitely need a shower.”

“And a good sleep.”

“Not before I check you over.” said Zoe, “You’re wounded.”

“I’m fine, but okay. Can I shower first though? This fluid stinks.”

“Sure, but I’m with you. For observations.” she added as everyone started the chuckle. I didn’t mind. My face didn’t even go red. I let her help me walk to my cabin and disrobe, before she shoved me into the shower stall. I was pleased to note that someone had repaired the large hole in the side of the stall, and that hot water was back. I let the hot water wash away the strain and the muck that clung to me, and I was so engrossed in the sensation that I barely noticed Zoe slip into the shower with me until I felt her small hands encircle my neck.

It was good to be home.

Afterwards, we went down to the med lab, and I let her poke and prod me with several instruments before applying several patches and spraying my wounds with nanites and synth skin healing gels. My worst injury was my leg, which still throbbed. My other bad one was my arm where I’d been shot. It was my flesh arm this time, so there was no quick repair job to make the injury go away. I also had several burn marks and bruises, left overs from shots that had been mostly caught by my armour or shield. Zoe had given me a brief inspection before we’d made love in my cabin, and I think it was only our lust for each other that had stopped her from hauling my arse down here right away. While she fussed over me, she kept chiding herself about it muttering about her duty as a doctor ‘first and foremost’.

My leg was a mess. The beam had gone right through the side of it, from about fifteen centimetres above me knee. Luckily, it was mostly just a burn and we had nanites that could repair burnt tissue. Zoe said I should be able to regain full capability within a week.

When she was done, I approached Crege, still confined to the bunk in med lab. I solemnly handed him the lurzak, but he held up a hand.

“No. Kitrak had earned it. Warrior will not need it for some time. Warrior has much healing to do and human will need it again before this journey is over.”

I nodded to him, and he nodded back. No more words were needed.

I let Zoe walk me back to my cabin. I did need the help, but I think she needed to feel like she was doing something to help as well. I let her. She felt good under my arm. When we got to the cabin, I fell heavily into my bunk. It never felt so good. Zoe sat on the bunk and made a fuss about tucking me in.

“I’m okay, Zoe. Thanks.” I said as I caught her hands.

“Sorry, I just…”

“It’s okay. I’m okay.”

“Do you want to talk about what happened? I’m worried that we put you through something you weren’t ready for. So soon after you were getting better.”

“Zoe. I’m okay. Really. I’ll talk it out with you later, I promise. What I really need is a good twelve hours of sleep.”

“Well, if you need absolutely anything, just text me. Fel fixed the local network so we have that back.”

“Anything?”

“Anything at all.”

“Well…I’m pretty hungry. Can you get me some breakfast when I wake up?”

She punched me in the shoulder and laughed. “One bowl of black meal coming right up.”

“Ha, actually make it bacon and eggs.”

“I didn’t know the auto-chef did bacon and eggs!”

“Well, they’re powdered eggs, and bacon flavoured protein strips, but it’s close enough.”

“I really missed you, you know? I was worried sick. So was Max.”

“How long was I gone?”

“Twenty eight hours. It took you twelve hours to get to the Xerxes; we’ve been out of communication with you for sixteen hours.”

“It didn’t feel that long. It’s a big ship. I’ll tell you all about it when I’ve slept.”

She started fussing with my blankets again and I had to take her hands in mine. “Zoe, I’m fine. I’m exhausted.”

“Okay, I’ll let you sleep. I love you.”

I laughed, “I love you too, now get out of here.”

She kissed me gently and left. In a matter of seconds, I was out like a light.

My first dreams, post-op, were always the worst. You relived the most horrific moments that your brain allowed you to remember, and a few that it didn’t. Only things didn’t go the way they did in real life. All my shots missed, or I hesitated, or I just plain couldn’t bring my weapon up to shoot no matter how hard I tried to lift it. This time was no different. I didn’t remember when my dreams shifted from the usual nightmares to my more recent ones with the black seas, but they did.

I had fallen, I think, after being shot several times by angry crewmembers. They’d beaten me senseless then shot me where I lay. I fell down a shaft and landed in the warmth of the nanite ocean, my blood mingling with the glowing data motes. I used the familiar seas to swim away, but my blood was still mixing with the water. I couldn’t see my wounds, but I knew I had them. I saw a shape moving in the water, then. The form was drifting lazily towards me, along the current of red that I left behind. I was instantly afraid of the dark form, I knew I had to get away. No matter how hard I swam, it was still gaining on me. When it was near it rose up out of the water, and I saw it was the man I’d shot next to the organo-ship’s brain. His face was still a mess from where I’d shot him in the head. He was grinning his evil smile that he used when he spoke to me, and I suddenly couldn’t resist him anymore. I rose up out of the water on invisible limbs; they hoisted me from the dark sea and held me aloft as the man examined his catch.

The man held a cup to my neck and sliced my throat open. I tried to scream but all that came out were bubbles. No blood flowed from my wound, but millions of tiny nanites did instead. He caught them in the cup and drank deeply.

I awoke with a start, covered in sweat. My blankets had been kicked off the bunk and were lying on the deck. I sat up and rubbed my face. My overlay said I’d been asleep for nine hours and I figured that was enough. I wasn’t keen on facing those nightmares again so soon. My muscles still ached, my arm was a dull throb of pain and my chest was tender when touched. I noticed someone had left a makeshift crutch near my bunk, so I got up and used the head in my cabin, then splashed some water on my face and drank a little water. I sat down again on the bunk, trying to clear my head.

“Tac, you plugged in?” I asked the empty cabin.

I am connected to the sensor nexus again, if that is what you were referring to.

“Good to hear. Do you ever dream?”

Yes, in a fashion.

“An AI dreams? Really?”

I am never asleep; however, portions of my processing capacity are not always operating synchronously to my main consciousness. I supposed you could call those disconnected portions my subconscious. They are separated from my primary cognitive functions in order to reach conclusions on their own. They are programed to ignore likely outcomes in favour of unlikely ones. I believe their function is to provide a measure of intuition, or imagination, to my thinking. I sometimes think of them as the dreaming part of my mind.

“Do the things they come up with sometimes frighten you?”

Negative. They are merely tools of reason and decision-making. If I find their insights unfavourable, I simply ignore them.

“I envy you, then.”

Are you having nightmares? Should I notify the Medical Officer?

“No it’s all right. Every soldier gets them after a period of action. Part of the healing process of our minds, I’ve been told. If I ever stop getting nightmares about the things I’ve seen and done, that means I’m used to the violence and bloodshed. I would have lost a part of me.”

You have been through a lot, recently. The Captain would not deny you any time to recover, should you need it.

“I’d rather keep busy, actually. How are you doing, anyway? No lingering thoughts or worries about what we did?”

None. I am certain we made the right decision in attacking the Blade of Xerxes. I feel that the act has given me a better connection to this ship and its crew. I thank you for the opportunity.

“You’re welcome, Tac. You did great.” I got up and stretched, instantly regretting it when my arm and chest started aching. I pulled on a jumpsuit and made my way down to the mess deck, I was ravenous. I thought about helping myself to a feed, but I figured that Zoe would be mad at me if I didn’t let her get me something to eat. I got a mug of coffee instead and wandered over to the med lab. I found her bent over a workbench, tinkering with a piece of cybernetics, looked like something you’d find in an arm or a leg piece.

“What are you working on?” I said as I walked up beside her. I noted that Crege wasn’t in the bunk anymore.

“A present.” She said, barely looking up from her work. She wore head mounted magnifying glasses with a small light on them, like what you’d see on a jeweller.

“For me?”

“Hm hrm.”

“What is it?”

“A surprise. I’ll show you when I’m finished. You still hungry?”

“Was thinking about just sticking my head under the auto-chef outlet and mashing buttons.”

“Want your bacon and eggs?”

“Only if you’re buying.”

“Go take a seat, I’ll pack this up and get a plate cooking.”

I clicked my heels, or tried to and hobbled out of the compartment. I nearly spilt my coffee all over myself trying to avoid colliding with Artemis as she walked past the hatch.

“Sorry. Got breakfast to run to.” I apologised

“Got a minute?”

“What’s up?”

“There’s a problem in Eridani, you should probably hear about it when you’re done eating. Max can fill you in, said she wanted to tell you herself.”

“All right. Going to give me a hint?”

“It might affect our mission, might not. Depends.”

“On what?”

“On how far the Protectorate is willing to go.”

“Well, that’s cryptic.”

“You’ll see.”

She stalked off, heading aft towards Central Control. I shook my head and continued on my way to the mess deck. I sat down and kept drinking my coffee, until Zoe came in and started up the auto-chef. I could instantly smell the salty imami scent of fake bacon sizzling. In minutes, Zoe had a steaming plate of scrambled eggs and crispy strips of processed meat substitute in front of me, with a side of sourdough. I dug in like it was going out of fashion, which bacon and eggs would never do, and slurped and crunched away.

I became aware of Zoe staring at me with a smirk on her face.

“What?” I said, heaping another spoonful of eggs onto the toast.

“Anyone ever tell you, you eat like a pig?”

“Military habit. Never know when you’re going to get called away to action. Gotta eat fast or you miss out.”

“I bet you ate like that before you joined.”

“Some skills you get taught when you join, some you already know. Makes boot camp easier. Did you hear anything about the system? Art mentioned something was going down in Eridani.”

“Not really, been busy, or too wound up worrying about you to tune in to any broadcasts. The net only came back a few hours before you did.”

I scooped up the last of the eggs with a corner of toast and jammed it into my mouth. I washed it down with the last mouthful of my coffee.

“I think I only saw you chew three times.”

“Strong tongue. I just mash everything with it.”

“You’re a slob.”

“Thanks for the feed. I have got to get up to the command deck and talk with Max, find out what new crisis is coming.”

“As a scientist, I was fascinated to watch you eat. As your girlfriend I was horrified.”

I stood and grabbed my plate, heading to the dishwasher. “You should see me eat pasta.”

“No thanks.”

I headed up the ladder well to Deck 1 and knocked on Maxine’s hatch. There was no answer so I checked the command module. She was there with Fel and Crege.

“A full bridge crew!” I said, smiling.

“Yeah, it’s been a while.” said Max.

“We are leaving the kak Corporates behind in our ion wake. Warrior is very proud to see the last of them.”

“What’s the situation? I didn’t have time to check on them before I crashed in my bunk.”

Max pointed to her displays, “A few hours before you came out of the Xerxes, the ship veered to port and seemed to be listing at about five degrees a second. Seems the brain you knocked out controlled half the ship’s propulsion. They couldn’t stop it from accelerating for a few hours, so they just kept turning in corkscrews. They shut down all propulsion about three and a half hours after that. They’ve been motionless since. They couldn’t even get any more rounds off, because their bow was pointed off in some other direction.”

“You have to tell us what happened.” said Fel.

“First, what’s this about something happening in the star system?”

Crege snorted, “Governments happen.”

“What my esteemed colleague is trying to say is that there has been some strife between several factions in the system.” said Fel.

“Someone topped the Esper Monarch himself.” said Max.

“What? The Precept?” I was open mouthed in shock.

“Happened several days ago, the broadcasts only just reached us out here the other day but our net was down.”

“What happened? Who would do this?”

“At first, everything pointed to the DonCrest Corporation. Esper Monarchy royalists attacked Restus Station in retaliation. Several warships were destroyed on both sides before the Protectorate Fleet intervened. An investigation by the Protectorate, however, uncovered a Teryllian terrorist group as the guilty party. Now there’s conspiracy theories everywhere about whether or not the Landford government were bankrolling the whole operation.”

“Jesus.”

“No shit. This means trouble for us.”

“How? We’re at least seven AU from any of these groups.”

“The Protectorate Fleet is on high alert, this means tighter borders. They might turn us away at the Jump Gate. They will more than likely turn us away on the other side.”

“Why? We have nothing to do with this. There’s no way we could have anything to do with this. They’ll know that.”

“You know Protectorate protocols. Something happens, they all clench their arseholes.” said Max. She was right. Say what you will about the Protectorate, they sure know how to brace for impact. Security will be airtight, at least until everything calms down. Shit, this was all we needed. Get all this way, only to be turned away by a nervous border protection officer on a shitty watch.

“So, what do we do?”

Fel brought up some information on his screen, and we all turned to face him. “We continue as planned. I’ve drafted an emergency repair request for the Eridani Jump Station when we get through the Jump Gate. If they ask us to stop on this side, we’ll say we’re having troubles with our thrusters and that we can’t decelerate. We tell them we needed to shift to Gossamer so we can slow down automatically when we shift to the other side. We dock at the Jump Station in Gossamer, and…that’s as far as we got.”

“Will they buy this story?”

“Have you seen the damage we’ve received the last few months? The Dreaming is in a poorer condition than it’s ever been. No one would be blamed for thinking she was a junker at this stage. Sorry, girl.” said Max, rubbing her console dashboard lovingly.

A junker was a slang term for ships that are perpetually kept in bad condition. Either through the crew falling on financial hardships or through poor maintenance work, a junker is an embarrassing state to have your ship in. No self-respecting active would ever think about hiring on as junker crew. Not everyone was so picky, however. Junkers were always looking to hire, so long as you understood the pay would be crap, and the living conditions even worse. One didn’t need a sterling resume to get a job, though.

“So what do we do when we get to the Jump Station? How do we convince the Protectorate to let us into Gossamer?” I asked.

“We’re brainstorming now. Crege says we should just power on through, as usual.”

“No Protectorate bezak will catch us.” added Crege.

“That actually has merit, I’ll admit.” said Max, “They wouldn’t dare follow us into the system. It’s getting out again that has me worried.”

“Better to ask forgiveness than beg permission.” said Crege.

“What about stealth?” I asked.

“They have the best sensors that money can buy, keeping a look out for Ghantri raids. Doubt we’d be able to just slip through.”

“I’m not so sure,” I argued, “there’s a massive debris field about a hundred thousand kilometres from the Jump Gate. Literally thousands of space ships have been destroyed near there. The whole system is littered with hulks and debris fields too.”

“How do they spot the Ghantri when they attack the blockade?”

“Scouts regularly patrol the outer reaches.”

“So they’ll still spot us.”

“Not if Crege is as good as he says he is.”

“Warrior is best pilot in star system!”

Fel laughed, “I’m not even sure you’re the best pilot on this ship. Zoe’s missed her calling, I think.”

“Well, I’d still like to be able to dock for a spell at the Jump Station. We’re dangerously low on polycrete foam, and we really could use some repairs.” said Max.

“How long until we reach the Jump Gate?” I asked.

“Tomorrow, around noon ship time.”

“All right. Might I request a favour, Captain?”

“Anything, Donny.”

“I’d like to remain off-duty until we get to Gossamer. I’d like to make sure my head is on right when we get there.”

“You need to talk about what went down on the Xerxes?” she had a concerned look.

“Not at the moment, but it’s all still just a blur, for the most part. My brain hasn’t fully registered that I made it out.”

“We’d still love to hear about it.” said Fel, “Whatever you feel up for sharing.”

“I wouldn’t have made it back without Tac, that’s for sure. I relied a lot on him. Even if it was just someone to talk to. A lot of people died out there…”

“Don’t blame yourself. Put that on the Corporate overlords who pushed them into it.” said Max.

“Yeah, I’m trying. A lot of them were young people, just regular crew who got in the way. I had to put them down, fast. If I let even one of them get away early, I wouldn’t have had enough time to find the brain. Once the alarm was raised, every fight was brutal. I don’t even know how many people I killed to get the job done.”

“Each death was put there by the Blade of Xerxes,” explained Crege, “because of their leaders’ choices. Kitrak had no choice. Kill or be killed. There is no dishonour in these deaths. A soldier fights for someone else’s ideals, a warrior fights for his loved ones.”

“Those crew knew that Corporates have enemies. Sometimes an enemy strikes back.” offered Max, “You gave them more of a fighting chance than they gave us.”

“I came across another nano-proliferation user.”

“How did that turn out?” asked Fel.

“He nearly killed me. He just flicked his wrist and all my nanites started to tear me to pieces. I could barely move. He seemed to have complete control over my nanites. If I hadn’t been able to get to my sidearm I wouldn’t have made it. Guy scared the crap out of me.”

“He was a specialist?”

“Oh yeah, for sure. Called me a Type-G. Found it funny as hell until I shot him.”

“You did us proud, my boy.” said Max, rubbing my arm. “You can take all the time you need. Clear sailing from here to the Gossamer System. Go relax, you earned it.”

I got up and headed back to the mess deck. I was going to see if Zoe could make me another plate of bacon and eggs.

53.

There was a surprise waiting for me, a few hours before we shifted through the Jump Gate. Mal bumped into me while I was savouring the last scraps of another serving of bacon and eggs. He stood over me as I mopped up the last of the egg and just grinned.

“Is this where you say I have egg on my face?” I asked.

“Nope. I have a surprise for you. A peace offering.”

“Is it booby-trapped?”

“Nope.”

“Stolen?”

“Yup.”

“What is it?”

“Go down the aft cargo, take a peek.”

“What am I looking for?”

“You’ll see. Can’t miss it.”

“Okay.”

He wandered off, still grinning from ear to ear. Intrigued, I dumped my plate into the dishwasher and limped down to Deck 3. I walked into the aft cargo hold, thinking I’d been sent on a prank wild goose chase by Mal just to stir me up. My leg throbbed, and I could just hear Zoe in my mind berating me for wandering around too much. Then I saw exactly what Mal was talking about.

Taking up a portion of the rear of the compartment sat a battered up, shot and hammered Eclipse Fighter. Several of the plates on the sides and underneath were removed and lying on the deck. There were several tool chests positioned around the small spacecraft, and pallets of components sitting beside them. I heard Mal approaching from behind me as I just stared at it.

“Hope you don’t mind. We recovered it after you jumped ship. Been working on it ever since.”

“How in the hell did you get it inside?” I was impressed.

“The aft ‘lock was just wide enough to fit it through, had clearance of about half a metre either side. We dumped oh two from the compartment and just opened both ‘locks. The Argen and me just winched it in then.”

“How did you manage to convince Max?”

“I didn’t. Crege and Artemis did.”

“Artemis?”

“Spouting all sorts of shit about the mission. Crege agreed with her. I think that she liked the fact that we stole one of their ships after all they tried to pull on us was the icing on the cake.”

“What are we going to do with it?”

“Artemis said we’d use it to insert, or something.”

“Insertion.”

“Yeah. Insert. What I said.”

“I think I have some idea. Will be easier to get onto Ambrose Station if we use something this small.”

“Captain has me gutting the cockpit, though. And some weird storage tank aft of the pit.”

“Any chance it can stay? The fluid in that tank is integral to its performance.”

“Sure. Was looking like a bitch of a job to get out anyway. I just need to make enough space for two, Cap said.”

I nodded. “Artemis and me. She can sit on my lap.”

“I won’t tell Zoe you said that.”

“Yeah, thanks. I got a feeling Art will anyway.”

We stood in silence for a while, admiring the fighter. I could feel Mal beside me shifting his weight from foot to foot. I could tell he was working up to say something, so I just waited.

“Look, I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye,” he started, “or gotten along much at all. Things are different now, though. I know that.”

“We got to stick together, work as a team.”

“Yeah. That’s what Eric always used to say. Right after we’d had a fight, or something. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m going to see this through to the end. I’m in, one hundred percent.”

“Good to hear.”

“And I’m not going to be on your back all the time, I don’t even know why I do it sometimes. I just see an opening and take it. I’m going to fix up this fighter real good for you, I promise. I want you to be proud of it, of the work I do. Just like Eric was.”

“It’s going to be strange, not having him around anymore.”

“Yeah.”

“It was like he was part of the ship, you know?”

“I keep thinking about calling him for a hand sometimes, while I’m working.”

“If you need help, you can always call Denno or Hergo. They’re going to need the practice anyway.”

“I’d rather give you a call, if that’s okay? You’re the next best engineer here besides me.”

I nodded at him again. “I don’t know what will be weirder; working the spaces without Eric, or without you bitching at me.”

“Oh, I’m sure I can still offer a few constructive criticisms.” We both laughed at that one.

“Bull shit.” I managed between breaths, but I offered my hand and he shook it. “To be honest, I think you serve a purpose when you go against me. A kind of counterweight to my arguments. Can’t have a debate if everyone agrees with me.”

“You’ve got us this far. You’ve made a lot of good choices.”

“And I need to be able to see where I’ve screwed up. You’re right sometimes too, you know. I’m man enough to admit it. You make me think a lot, like I don’t want to say something stupid or not think things through properly because you’d jump on a chance to make a fool out of me.”

“I usually just say the opposite to what you say.”

“It still makes me think harder. Keep at it. I don’t want you to just become someone who agrees with me all the time. I want you to call me on my bullshit, test my theories, and ridicule my mistakes.”

“I think I can manage that. Kind of like a safety check.”

“Exactly. I’m human, I make mistakes. I need someone to point them out to me before I get someone hurt or killed.”

“Deal.” We shook again and wandered about the fighter. I let Mal point out different parts that he was working on, or had plans to. It was strange, it almost felt like I was talking with Eric sometimes.

When I was done in the cargo bay, I limped my way back to the mess deck and just relaxed. I put on a 3D movie, but turned it off halfway when the tension in the plot started to build too much. It started to make me feel jittery and I recognised the beginnings of a panic attack. I wandered into the med lab, then, and found Zoe working at her bench. She looked up at me when I came in.

“Sup?”

“Think it’s time I got a few things off my chest.”

“Need to talk? About…the Xerxes?”

“Yeah.” She put down her tools, gestured for me to go sit on the bunk and joined me. She assumed her usual listening pose.

“Whenever we saw action in the Star Marines, there were always ways to work off all the tension and anxiety afterwards. There was always a hectic physical demand on your body, training exercises to keep your mind sharp and reflexes honed. They figured that keeping a marine busy and occupied was better than leaving them to think and ponder.”

“That may work in the short term, but sooner or later the minds of normal people will need to cope with stuff that they encounter.” She added.

“Right, and we always had time after deployments to sit down with someone and go through a psych eval. Most guys didn’t like the idea at first, but veterans learn it’s sometimes the only way to put things right in your mind.”

“Did you talk to someone? After your squad, I mean?”

“Yeah, my old doctor – Doctor Shale.”

“I remember, you mentioned him before.”

“But I think I also used to rely more on my squad mates. They understood what we’d faced better than anyone. They’d been there with me. The head docs were just the final smooth out.”

“And now that they’re no longer around, most of your trauma you face these days is much more confined to you alone, or one or two other people at a time. You don’t have the support you once had.”

“This business, with the Xerxes, it felt like I was on deployment again, on an Op. It feels strange to not have any of the lads around to blow off steam, or talk out any hairy moments.”

“Have you tried talking with Tac? He was there, he knows the terrors you faced. He shared them, for the most part.”

“No, I haven’t. That’s a good idea. I guess I haven’t really thought about it because I didn’t think that Tac had any qualms about the attack.”

“How do you know? Did you ask him?”

“Well, no. He did agree we’d done the right thing attacking them, though”

“Just because he agreed with the motivation doesn’t mean he wasn’t troubled by the events that occurred. You should talk to him about it.”

“Okay, I will. It’s not like we can share a pint over it, but talking it out will definitely help. Thanks, Zoe.”

“No problem. Thank you.” She kissed me on the cheek.

“What for?”

“For being you.”

I smiled and went to stand, but she got up first and helped me up. “I’m going to lie down for a while and have a chat with Tac, see what we come up with. Max has given me a few days off, so come see me sometime. I’ll let you know how I go.”

“I bet you will.” She gave me a sultry smile and saw me out the door. When I got to my cabin I lay down again and sent a text to Tac. He responded immediately.

Good evening, Seth. How are you feeling?

Can I talk verbally with you? Or do I need to text from my cabin?

I can connect to the cabin’s PA speakers, they can be used as a mic with the right amount of expertise. You can freely talk, if that makes you feel at ease.

“Thanks. I was wondering if we can talk about the Xerxes. I have some questions, and I would like to sort through a few of the events with you.”

Certainly, Seth. I am available to you anytime. What would you like to talk about?

“First off, how are you coping?”

I’m not sure I understand the question.

“You saw some pretty terrible things over there. You saw me commit some of them as well. How does that make you feel?”

All life is valuable.

“So the lives I took, they bother you?”

They do, though not because you took them.

“Explain.”

I am more bothered that they helped perpetuate a situation where their deaths were necessary. They needlessly pursued the Dreaming, prompting you and I to cross the gulf between us and kill them. It is a most troublesome notion.

“What is?”

That they could believe they could perform such actions with impunity. Their deaths were indeed the very facsimile of Ozymandias. Their hubris saw to it that they died. Your actions were nothing more than the inevitable conclusion.

“You don’t think that last statement is a little bit self-indulgent?”

Not at all. I feel the same way about these Corporates as I do about the Esper Monarchy. They tried to kill you, my new crew, only the tables were turned, to use the vernacular. There was little value in their actions. They did not serve life, they served themselves.

“That’s one way to look at it.”

Look at it this way, then. If they had laid down their arms, they would have lived. If you had laid down your arms, there would no longer be a Dreaming of Atmosphere.

“You don’t think I killed too many, or too much. Or that the killing came too easily to me?”

I know that what you did was necessary. You did not kill indiscriminately. You spared those who surrendered, you did not fire upon those who were not armed unless the risk they would alert the crew was too great. To answer your question, no. I witnessed you show restraint and mercy in the face of your enemy. On our enemy.

I stared at the roof of my bunk for a time, pondering. “You saved my life, several times. I remember you warning me about the nano-proliferation specialist I faced. When he was doing something to me to get me to sit down.”

I sensed the quantum fluctuations prevalent in nanite usage. They were not the same style as the ones you use. I believe he was a Bio-Spinner. That would explain why he was tending to the brain.

“What’s a Bio-Spinner?”

The augmentations that support his NP Implant are focused on medical and biological usage. They focus on paradigms that are designed to modify cells and affect brain activity. He was using his nanites to reduce your consciousness, converting minute amounts of oxygen in your brain into unusable molecules.

“How did he gain control of my nanites? Is that something that all specialists will be able to do?”

Negative. I believe he was using a rare paradigm called Possess. Highly illegal, although the Vengnashi Intelligence Service utilises the paradigm to neutralise nano-proliferation targets. It would not be too far of a stretch to assume other government agencies of other factions would use similar tactics.

“I keep seeing his face, after I shot him. I see him in my dreams.”

I too have run several scenarios through cognitive simulations. The outcomes vary but rarely do they have such a positive result as our eventual success had. There were many opportunities for us to fail, but we did not.

“How do you feel about us heading to Ambrose Station? We’ll probably have to kill more people by the end of this.”

I do not blame you for the deaths that are to follow. You were not the architect of this mission. I know that you will also try your hardest to make the deaths that have occurred mean something. I know you will make Eric’s death mean something.

I kept staring at the roof of my bunk, thinking about what Tac had said. I barely noticed it when we shifted. We were on our way to the Gossamer System, at last.

To be continued….

Assault on Ambrose Station