USD: 65 days after the battle of Dedia IV

Location: 92 Pegasi, Ackman Orbit, A3123Y Orbital

 

Whitely and the security group strapped themselves into their seats inside the APC.

Amy stood behind Wyles, who was behind the driver's seat, trying to see why they were being jostled all over the place. The reason became obvious as soon as she could see the screen over the man’s shoulder.

“Stop running into everything! You’re destroying the station!”

Wyles laughed, “Relax! We’ll be fine. A few benches and fountains aren’t going to stop this thing. Next time, make the concourse wider!”

“You’re not supposed to be driving an APC on the station! What if we lose gravity?” Amy complained.

A jolt indicated they hit something larger than normal and she had to hold on to the driver’s headrest to not fall.

“Thing has thrusters. We’re almost there, anyway.” Wyles answered.

Amy looked at the screen. Besides the visual camera showing everything that was being crushed under the APC’s frame, it showed a tactical view in a smaller PIP display.

Red dots that she took to mean enemies were disappearing everywhere across the station, but a large group of them were still concentrated near the ShipCore section. It made sense that their major attack would be for that. Amy wasn’t sure if there were enough MilTech guards to fight off the miners who were attacking.

An enormous wave of blue dots was flying toward the station from the carbon nanotube manufactory. They had been keeping a large percentage of production there since it didn’t have a human crew at all.

Red circles with an expanding thin line propagated on the monitor. Confusion passed across Amy’s face.

“What are those?” she said, pointing with her free hand.

Wyles glanced at the PIP and frowned. “Miners had some ships. Looks like the station is putting railgun shells through them.”

“All of them!?”

“Looks selective, but those shells have explosives of some kind. Not that mining ships have much in the way of integrity, but those are all fireballs.”

Amy swallowed and nodded. No one was going to be walking away from that. Abbey was being thorough.

A yellow light flashed, and a short buzzing alarm blared. On the APC’s main visual screen, red highlights appeared.

“Get strapped in. This is going to get bumpy.”

Amy moved to sit down, making it just in time before the vehicle jerked to the left. The hull above them suddenly let out of a maniac thrum as the auto turret opened fire.

The APC blasted by the miner group without pause, small arms fire plinking off the armored skin. As they moved down the arm toward A31’s ShipCore they met several other groups that resulted in the same ineffective attacks.

When they reached the point where the arm joined the core, a large firefight was ongoing. The APC approached from behind the miners who were exposed and the roof mounted auto turret cut into them heavily.

It was enough to break the men’s morale, and the group attempted to flee, right into more fire. Dozens of the miners were cut down quickly and suddenly the entire group was throwing down weapons in surrender.

Security rushed forward and cuffed everyone still alive. Amy winced as she realized they were even cuffing the wounded, most of who were in various stages of bleeding out. There wasn’t much medical care available and the single MilTech medical was swamped directing others on how to help while attempting to triage everyone.

Security drones buzzed overhead, moving toward another flashpoint and toward the groups that still needed to be dealt with toward the outer ring.

“Get us to the command center,” Amy called out.

The vehicle slowed down as it pushed through the barricades, and Wyles looked back at her. “Going to take it a bit more carefully now. Don’t think the NAI would be happy if we tore up the walkway without a reason.”

Amy shook her head. “Just get us there fast. Abbey can fix things later.”

“The NAI seems to be efficient at taking out the trash.”

 

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USD: 77 days after the battle of Dedia IV

Location: Van Biesbroeck’s star, Meltisar, Outer Security Zone B, IND Iron Horse

 

Alex tugged at the collar of the uniform Thraker had provided her. It was a gray ensemble, the same that the junior officers on the ship wore minus the golden pips that denoted rank. It was still distinguishable from the non-officer’s uniforms by the gold-colored trim and buttons.

When she had confronted him about her visit in the smuggling chamber, he’d sweated bullets and had one of his classic cigars. Apparently, Thraker had paid a massive bribe to the NAI who monitored access to and from Corpo space. Confirming the description, Alex realized the holographic woman had been another NAI Avatar…

They’d transferred into VB 30 almost a day earlier. It had been a little different from all the other transfers to Alex, but she could feel an undercurrent of anticipation and energy from the crew as they went about their business.

The system was a binary, the smaller orange dwarf being the primary location of human inhabitation. A large gas giant orbited the star in a close orbit, and the moon Meltisar orbited the giant with its three smaller sisters. The large, 300 AU distant yellow primary star was lonely with no planets in orbit.

Captain Thraker stepped forward and adjusted the main screen’s orbital display. The picture fuzzed for a second as it swapped from a depiction of the orbital motions of the bodies in relation to the star to one showing system traffic and orbitals.

Even knowing that the system was heavily populated, Alex hadn’t been prepared for the massive array of thousands of colored dots appearing in orbit around all the system’s bodies. Even the small moons had hundreds of craft orbiting them and she realized they were likely being mined and exploited for resources to feed the capital planet.

Thraker zoomed in the picture to Meltisar and a dozen space elevators rose in a belt around the planet’s equator, each with its own massive transfer station in orbit. They were all dwarfed by the massive super-structure orbital appeared on screen with thousands of smaller craft docked to it.

“Navigation, adjust orbit to entry station MIL-3A,” Thraker ordered.

Alex glanced at the map; she had learned that traffic to Meltisar’s gas giant was heavily restricted. A ring of stations sat in orbit far out, which acted as relays for visiting ship crews and cargo, a system that was common because of the massive amount of destruction a rogue starship could create.

“Captain, MIL-3A is a restricted military only transfer station. Are you sure?” An officer asked.

“Yes, lieutenant. Set up a standard transfer with no hard burn,” Thraker answered.

Alex watched as the bridge crew worked to make the adjustment. The line of the Iron Horse’s predicted trajectory bending from an ejection orbit to one that would cause the ship to match the orbital’s position in several hours. The ship would need a second circularization burn to match orbits completely, of course.

Alex pulled out her datapad and opened her own personal orbital system visualizer. The high-band signal fed visualization displaying a real time view of the gas giant and its moons in a virtualized real-view. She rotated the camera, noting how the dim red dwarf cast a weak light across everything.

As she zoomed in on the gas giant, she could see orange-hued brown and white horizontal bands that were littered with swirling clouds in dozens of massive storm systems.

The Meltisar itself was tidally locked with the gas giant. Depending on the time of year, sections of the planet would be permanently cloaked in darkness. Swirling white clouds covered the dayside as she zoomed in further. Massive cities sprawled out around the space elevators, but massive taiga forests filled the northern and southern hemispheres.

Alex noted that the average temperature of the planet was freezing, with only a band around the equator being comfortable. The rest was covered in snowy taigas and mountains. Massive vortexes covered the poles as the frozen atmosphere plunged back to the surface.

The comms officer gestured to get the Captain’s attention, piquing Alex’s attention, and she looked up from her datapad to watch the interaction.

“Sir, we are being challenged by a Meltisari Patrol Cruiser. They are waving us off to go to one of the civilian checkpoint stations.”

“Hail them and place them on my screen,” Thraker ordered, then moved to his captain’s console. Standing behind the seat, Alex could observe the screen.

An annoyed man in a gray naval uniform reminiscent of the ones worn by the Iron Horse’s crew appeared. “Captain. Your ship is off course and set for a rendezvous for a restricted military transfer station. Navy use only, that doesn’t include you mercs.”

“Lieutenant, I am transmitting our access codes to you now. I am requesting a customs bypass and priority transfer to MIL-1A. I would appreciate it if you contact the station master and have him contact me at his earliest convenience so we can arrange transport.”

Alex looked back at her datapad and located MIL-1A on her system map. There wasn’t much information on it, but it was a military station with its own space elevator. From the public information displayed, it was the primary station for Meltisar’s navy.

Rather than argue or look annoyed, the officer on the screen cross-referenced the codes, and then looked back up to Thraker.

“Captain, maintain your current course and trajectory. I’ll have updated instructions for you shortly once I confirm with my superiors.”

Thraker nodded, and the channel closed.

Alex stepped up. “Captain?”

He turned his head and nodded to her to continue.

“Could you explain to me what’s going on? Why are we going to the military station, and how do you have a code for them?” Alex asked.

“The civilian transfer stations are highly regulated and monitored. It is very doubtful you’d be able to get past customs, even with help. The IFRB has agents and is very interested in upholding interstellar prohibitions. That includes rogue NAIs. A military transfer will avoid all that,” Thraker explained.

Alex hesitated for a moment. “I guess you have connections that will get us through?”

“Admiral Darren is a friend of mine. I’ve already contacted him, and he will get things moving for us.”

“I haven’t decided on what I want to do. You didn’t tell him about me, did you?”

Thraker shook his head. “I have not broken my promise. But we need to discuss your options. It is very unlikely you could return through Corpo space to 92 Pegasi and going through Solarian space would be a very long trip. I think it would be very beneficial for you to make some contacts here, at the very least.”

“I’m more concerned that my freedom will be stripped away, or captured and used as a lab experiment… or… there are a lot of dangerous scenarios in my mind. I want Elis to get medical care, but if people know what I am, they will try to exploit me.”

“I will not lie to you. There are many, including those in the government, who would likely think that way, yes. It is all the more important to make those contacts. Admiral Darren, I know and can trust, but I know you don’t know the man. It is likely I will meet with him on station, and I would like you to go with me to meet him when I do.”

Alex nodded, but she had another major concern. “Elis…”

“There will be a full medical center available after we move on from the transfer station. I’ll see that she gets the best care there,” Thraker reassured her.

Alex looked across the bridge. The crew was still managing operations. Her brow furrowed as she had a realization.

“Most everyone knows what I am. How is it going to be kept secret?”

“I have asked everyone to keep it quiet, but you are right. It’s possible, even likely someone will out you. It’s one of the main reasons we need to deal with the Admiral. He can head off any investigation and give you options.

Alex frowned. “That sounds good, but… I’m not sure I have anything of value to offer that wouldn’t just end up with me being exploited…”

“Alex. Even if you weren’t a Psi, you could still assist the military and government with your capabilities. They have denied Meltisar any NAI assistance because of the jockeying between the major powers to keep it hamstrung. All of them have a heavy thumb on the system. There are many who resent that.”

“But…”

“But you are, so the potential rewards are even larger. If done carefully, Meltisar could expand to truly have its own independence as a fifth star nation.”

“I’m not sure… I know I’m not ready for something like that.”

“No, you aren’t, but just the possibility will be enough to earn you much even if it’s just to curry favor with you. Maybe even help you with returning to 92 Pegasi. They would care for Elis for certain.”

“My MainComputer has been offline this entire time. I don’t have any computronics modules for it to run. If someone could help me restore Nameless…”

“That is something to discuss. Although my understanding of NAI is shaky, it is likely that lack would be important in being able to pass through customs easier. Although it appears our ruse didn’t work out in Hydrae.”

“I still don’t understand why she let me go. If the IFRB is really after rogue NAIs so much, won’t she be in trouble?”

“I doubt the IFRB would present much trouble to a battlestation Avatar. No, the only ones that could discipline her would be the Chi in charge of the system, or Moneta herself.”

“And money is that important to her, or they wouldn’t care?”

“I can’t really divine her thinking, but I know that Corpo NAIs are quite fond of ‘profits’ so they can retire in their capital system. It’s one of the major differences between NAIs there.”

“Corpo NAIs make profits? Does that mean Ertan NAIs preach, Imperial ones… uhh... noblize? Solarian ones… socialize?”

Thraker chuckled. “That’s some way of putting it. But yes, they each behave differently. Solarian NAIs are very focused on supporting everyone in their area of authority. Imperial ones as well, although they have a very large hierarchy of nobles that oversee things.”

“And the Ertan?” Alex questioned.

Thraker frowned. “The High priestess’ children are considered ‘Angels’ and their children are holy champions. They have a very strict interpretation of the Ertan religion.”

“I don’t even know what the Ertan religion entails.” Alex frowned, feeling lost about another subject.

“Most are atheists or agnostic. I can suggest some reading if you want to learn more about it.”

Alex sighed, feeling the pressure of yet another subject dropping on her. “Okay. But I’m not sure it will be at the top of my reading list. There are so many other things I need to learn about. It is one reason I need Nameless back. He has a vast database of information, and might even be able to help Elis.”

Thraker nodded. “We’ll discuss it with Admiral Darren. It’s possible the military could help with that, but I don’t know specifics myself.”

The comms officer turned toward them from his console. “Captain, the stationmaster has approved our rendezvous. They cleared us for entry to MIL-3A.”

Alex looked at the navigation screen filling the bridge’s main display and came up with another question. “How does the transfer from MIL-3A to MIL-1A work?”

“The Iron Horse will dock to MIL-3A and we will disembark. Then the ship will be examined and transported by a fleet tender to MIL-1A. The ship won’t be operable until the reverse occurs.”

“I saw plenty of ships flying closer to Meltisar and between the orbitals?”

“Only government approved. Most of it is automated. Passenger shuttles and freight delivery.”

“Without a NAI controlling it all?” Alex asked.

“Correct. Humans pilot most systems, but there are many GAI and fail-safes to prevent any ‘accidents’ from occurring. It’s actually a very expensive industry, one that increases expenses on most things. A system NAI authority could streamline those issues immediately.”

Alex felt pessimistic. “Sounds like someone would stand to lose a lot of credits and hate me then…”

Thraker shook his head. “Many more would be relieved and hopeful, I think.”

Alex swallowed. She remembered when she had been one of them. But the events over Dedia had made her feel more wary. “I hope you are right.”

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