The Pandora Paradox Page 9

  "What are you?!"

  Lucky didn't answer. He raised both arms and opened fire with the double-cannons in each. The four barrels spat out plasma bolts at a high rate of fire as he charged down the corridor towards the defenders. They were disciplined enough to return fire, but the shots either splashed harmlessly against the battlesynth's armor or missed altogether. Lucky's precise fire, however, did neither. In less than a few seconds, he mowed down the six crew who had foolishly funneled themselves into a kill box with no cover and no escape.

  He stepped over the smoking bodies, stopping at the last one. It was still breathing. Lucky reached down and ripped the security tab from its shirt and read it: Xi Hyst, Captain. So, the captain herself had come down with the defenders when she saw they were being boarded. Brave, but stupid. Now, the crew was leaderless, and the enemy was still aboard and moving through her ship at will.

  "Who…sent…you?" Hyst whispered.

  "Saditava Mok knows you have betrayed him," Lucky said, stretching the truth a bit. "He knows you have been turned by ConFed Intel."

  "How could he know? We…" before she could finish her sentence, her head lolled over, and her last breath rattled from her damaged lungs. Lucky looked at the body a moment longer, and then proceeded on.

  He moved quickly to the ship's main engineering bay, killing the crew in there before they could mount any sort of defense. There had still not been any general alarms or further groups of armed crew. The captain's mad rush down to her death meant the rest of the ship was now in a state of utter confusion. After sealing the forward hatches shut, Lucky went to the powerplant's main control panel and interfaced with it directly, plugging into the data port and letting his dedicated intrusion sub-matrix do its thing.

  By the time he had overridden all the safety measures and canceled any alarms that would tell the crew what he was up to, he was just starting to hear someone banging on the hatch and yelling unintelligibly. He felt a pang of remorse for having slaughtered the crew when it was obvious they'd had no chance to defend themselves. Or did he? Maybe in his previous life he would have felt remorse, and that's what he was remembering…just the echo of a feeling.

  The scripts he needed to program into the system were easy, and the computer accepted them without as much as a warning. Lucky started his timer, locked out the terminal, and moved quickly to exit the bay through the aft hatchway that would lead him to the ship's small hangar bay. The manifest he'd read while programming the powerplant scripts said there were two Alerra-class combat shuttles in there. The Alerra was an Eshquarian gun boat, the smallest you could buy that still had a full-range slip-drive, and it would fit his needs perfectly.

  "Hey! You can't be in here!" Lucky ignored the tech shouting at him and walked over to the hangar bay door controls. It took him a moment to figure out how the captain's security tab worked but, as he'd assumed, the tab gave him the authorization to command the doors open.

  "I'm talking to you! Whatever you are, you can't—" The tech made the mistake of approaching too close and putting their hand on Lucky's shoulder. The battlesynth spun and punched the tech in the thorax hard enough to crush it and leave a massive indentation where the organs beneath had collapsed. The tech fell to the ground. Dead.

  Lucky paid the body no mind as he walked over to the first Alerra and checked its loadout. It was fully fueled and armed, so he didn't waste time looking at the other. He performed an abbreviated preflight, and then powered up the shuttle's small reactor, hoping to get clear of the cruiser before the crew realized where he'd gone.

  Ping! Ping-ping!

  Small arms fire bounced off the shuttle's hull as two crewmembers rushed out of a hatch on the mezzanine above and opened fire. There was no risk to the craft, so Lucky ignored it and eased the shuttle out of the cradle and backed it slowly out of the yawning bay and into open space. Just as the nose cleared the electrostatic barrier that held in the atmosphere, the cruiser lurched. It rolled ponderously to port and began to yaw, a gout of fire billowing from the starboard exhaust ports pushing her off course.

  Ignoring the havoc he'd wreaked, Lucky engaged the drive and sped away from the formation as the other cruisers broke away. The local com jammed with panicked chatter as people simultaneously asked the stricken ship what was wrong while they also tried to get their own ships clear. He looked to his left, and his optics focused so he could just barely see the Devil's Fortune as she floated on a parallel course. Pangs of regret and genuine hurt hit him as the enormity of what he was about to do really hit home.

  "I am sorry, Captain," he said aloud, "but there is no other way. It is not safe for me to be with you anymore."

  He reached over pulled the lever to engage the slip-drive, meshing-out of the system and away from the only family he'd ever known.

  "It's utter chaos over there right now," Mok said. "Nobody knows who is in charge, and they keep babbling about some intruder who rigged the reactor to vent. I have crews going over now to try and stabilize the situation."

  "Make sure they're crews absolutely loyal to you," Jason said. "We don't know what happened over there, but we still strongly suspect the ship's crew is working for the ConFed. In fact, the sooner we leave this system, the better."

  “Right now, we’re just worrying about not losing the ship.” Mok snarled at him before turning back to his com unit. "Yes, I'm listening."

  "What'd you find?" Jason asked quietly as Doc came back into the room.

  "The cargo bay hatch was unlocked, Lucky is nowhere to be found on the ship," Doc whispered while Mok shouted at his underlings through the com unit. "Twingo and Kage are trying to piece together what happened, but I think it's a safe assumption he went over to that ship and caused all the damage."

  "The question is, is he still over there?" Jason asked. "I feel like we sort of owe it to Mok to not send more of his people into a potential slaughter."

  "People on that ship are answering him, and they're not indicating they're still under attack," Doc said. "Maybe—"

  "Captain Burke, is there something you'd like to make me aware of?" Mok asked loudly, causing Jason to jump.

  "Such as?"

  "Such as why my people over there are reporting that what they think was a combat bot somehow boarded the ship, killed the captain and about a third of the crew, and then stole a shuttle," Mok said. "Where is Lucky?"

  "Probably aboard that shuttle," Jason sighed. "There have been some…issues."

  "What kind of issues?" Crusher rumbled, stepping forward and crossing his massive arms over his chest. Doc looked to Jason, who just shrugged and motioned for him to go on.

  "When you found the captain on the deck and brought him down to the infirmary, he wasn't drunk," Doc said. "Lucky attacked and nearly killed him. Jason shot the deck during the struggle. Afterwards, Lucky locked himself in that cargo hold with all the computers and wouldn't respond to any calls over the intercom. We'd decided at the time to keep it quiet until we could figure out what to do about the incident. Apparently, Lucky has decided for himself."

  "So, he attacked my ship just to get a shuttle and escape?" Mok asked. Everyone else in the galley just stared at Jason in shocked silence after Doc's story.

  "No…he probably attacked your ship so we could go over there and discover all the ConFed hardware aboard her," Jason said. "If he just wanted a ship, there's a brand-new Jepsen SX-5 sitting in the hangar of this ship."

  "Then we'd better get over there," Mok said, pointing to Crusher and Jason. "You two can ride over with me."

  They had just enough time to grab something from the armory and get to Mok's shuttle that was still docked to their starboard airlock. As soon as the hatch slammed shut, the pilot disengaged the docking clamps and used the maneuvering jets to push the small craft away from the corvette. Jason had a chance to look over the Devil's Fortune through the small window. It really was one damn fine ship. Her sleek lines and burnished copper accents showed well under the brilliant exterior lights.

/>   "You're going to fight me to get that ship back, aren't you?" Mok said with resignation as he watched Jason's face.

  "Excuse me?"

  "I can see when a captain is smitten," Mok said. "I just lent you that ship because it was all I had available close by and your gunship was torn to shreds. Now, I'm seeing that might have been a mistake. You've already named her, bought support ships, and generally made yourself at home."

  "You're saying you picked all that up from the look on my face just now?" Jason asked. "I think you might be reaching." Crusher just snorted but, thankfully, didn't toss his two cents in.

  They rode the rest of the way to the stricken cruiser in silence. The crew had managed to shut the main reactor down, so it was no longer blasting out plasma through the auxiliary exhaust vent. The backup systems had mostly arrested the tumble she'd been tossed into, but the ship was still drifting away from the other ships in the formation at a decent clip. Jason could understand why the other captains didn't want to bring in their own ships to assist just yet, worried the cruiser might be rigged to explode or have a hostile crew aboard, but he was worried that, if this ship did have ConFed sympathizers, they almost certainly already reported their position.

  "Docking complete, sir," the pilot called over the intercom. "Your personal security detail from your ship is already aboard and waiting for you on the other side of the airlock."

  "We won't be long," Mok said, motioning for Crusher and Jason to follow him.

  The interior of the cruiser was as chaotic as Jason assumed it would be. The smell of burnt metal and ozone filled the air, and wisps of smoke would occasionally stream from the environmental ducts. Crewmembers were scrambling about in confusion as there was apparently a lack of direction and leadership coming from the bridge with the loss of the captain.

  "Let's get to the cargo bays," Jason shouted over the din. "We're not engineers or techs so we'll just be in the way up here. Let's get the evidence we need and get gone. If this ship is what I think it is, you might not want to spend too much time here. Isn't there a sizable reward for your arrest?"

  "Your point is well taken, Captain," Mok said. "This way."

  He passed a few terse instructions to the nine members of his personal guard, all dressed in black armor and carrying powerful weapons, and the entire procession moved aft towards the storage areas and hangar bay. Jason knew the drones that the ConFed used to deploy their trackers wasn't something so small it could be easily hidden, and it would also need to be somewhere close to an external hatch large enough to get it off the ship. On a light cruiser not designed to operate it, that meant the hangar bay was the only logical place.

  They passed two areas where Lucky's handiwork was apparent. Bodies were still strewn about one corridor, some were covered, others were not. Mok stopped to point out the bodies of the ship's captain and first officer on their way into an engineering area where an airlock inner hatch had apparently been kicked out of its frame. It dangled precariously by one hinge, and the edges around the sealing surfaces were mushroomed out.

  "I'm guessing this is where he made entry," Crusher deadpanned, taking in the carnage around the room.

  "The reports I got were that someone claimed I was in the airlock and a technician opened the locks on my order," Mok said. "Apparently, there is video showing this, but they've not sent it to me yet."

  "Lucky's new body has a mimic mode," Jason said. "He could make himself look like you to a degree that would fool anybody except those closest to you. He probably picked your form because he knew it would cause maximum confusion and let him get aboard."

  "He really attacked you?" Crusher asked. "Like a for-real attack and not just messing around?"

  "If I hadn't got a shot off and made him pause so he could regain his senses, I have no doubt he'd have popped my head off." Jason rubbed at his neck where his friend's armored hand had crushed it. "He seemed to have some sort of break with reality, thought I was trying to edge him off the crew."

  "Damn," Crusher said quietly. "That could have been bad."

  "I feel like it still was."

  "I meant bad for the rest of us."

  "Sir, the forward team has found something," one of Mok's guards said. "It's in the secondary hold right off the hangar bay. The Second Officer is there with them."

  They rushed through the corridor until they came to a small cargo bay that looked like it was used as a staging area before things were loaded onto the shuttles. Jason could see right away that two of the large, matte black machines sitting on wheeled carts were more than likely the drones they were looking for.

  "Explain," Mok demanded.

  "I-I-I've never—"

  "Take five seconds to calm yourself, and then tell me what this is," Mok said in a tone that would likely not calm the officer down at all.

  "This area was restricted to everyone but the captain, sir," the second officer said. "I can show you the written orders telling us to keep clear of it. Not even the first officer had any idea what was in there. We just figured it was a side venture the captain had going, moving a little cargo off the books."

  "Provide my people with those orders," Mok said. "This couldn't have been just the captain's doing. Someone had to work on these drones, and then launch them. Review the records and find out if there were times the hangar bay was ordered evacuated, and then tell me by whom."

  "Yes, sir." The officer seemed to deflate with relief.

  "Two of my personal guards will…assist you," Mok said. It was said conversationally, but the meaning of his words was clear to all who heard them. Nobody on that ship was to be trusted, and any further shenanigans would not be tolerated.

  "We're really running up on a time limit here," Jason said. "There's no way the captain didn't report where we were. She may have done it before we even got here."

  "Have my shuttle take you back to your ship and get clear," Mok said. "We'll have this cleaned up shortly. I have a feeling I'll be detaining this crew and having the ship moved back to one of my bases. Damnit! I don't need this right now. I've got to get back and be visible to the organization or people will begin to talk…and plot."

  "I understand," Jason said. "You want us to spearhead getting the rest of the intel together on the ConFed's little construction project?"

  "You're going to have to," Mok said. "What are you going to do about Lucky?"

  "I'll have to try and go after him," Jason sighed. "I hate to split my crew up, but I can go after him alone while the others check out these sites."

  "Good luck," Mok said.

  "You too. I'll report back what I find," Jason waved, walking back the way they'd come.

  "I'll do the same once we unravel all of this." Mok waved to encompass the mess around the hangar bay.

  "So, how do you plan on tracking down a battlesynth that doesn't want to be found while also looking in on these secret facilities?" Crusher asked as they walked.

  "Lucky is a creature of habit when he becomes stressed or scared," Jason said. "I can find him. But…I can't do it with the Devil's Fortune because I can't easily land the damn thing, and I can't take the new SX-5 because you'll need that to scout out the ConFed sites."

  "We buying another ship?"

  "No, I'm going back to get the Phoenix. The S'Tora crew will have been done with her repairs for a while now," Jason said. "Once I get back in my own ship, I'm going after Lucky."

  11

  "Twingo! Where the fuck is my ship?!"

  Jason's bellow echoed down the corridor of the Devil's command deck. It took a moment for the engineer to come huffing and puffing up from where he'd been trying to enjoy a quiet midday meal in the upper galley.

  "What are you bellowing about now? What ship? You can't possibly mean the one you're standing aboard right this very minute, can you?"

  "My ship!" Jason stabbed a finger at one of the bridge monitors, his face red and his eyes bulging. "The fucking Phoenix is gone! I told you to tell those assholes they weren't authoriz
ed to fly her!"

  "Just move aside before you pop a blood vessel and die," Twingo said, pushing Jason none too gently away from the terminal. The monitor showed a multi-imager view of the inside of their hangar on S'Tora. The timestamp and status bar showed it was a live feed coming in over the slip-com node. The images also showed that the hangar was empty save for Jason's bright red 1967 Camaro convertible.

  "See?!"

  "Just. Sit. Down." Twingo flipped through the live feeds to make sure the crews just hadn't rolled the gunship outside, but there was nothing on the tarmac either. "Okay…I'm going to have to dig back through all the recorded footage to see what happened. First, I'll put a call in to Noelind and ask him what he knows."

  "Who the hell is—"

  "He's the crew lead who manages the team we use for the Phoenix," Twingo said slowly. "You've met him five times. He's been to your home for two holiday parties."

  "I never knew what his name was." Jason just shrugged. "Just find the ship or, barring that, who we need to go kill to get the ship back. If she was stolen, I need to know when and who."

  "I can do that, but not with you breathing down my back, and definitely not with you worked up into a complete rage," Twingo said. "Go away for an hour or two."

  Jason grumbled but retreated to give Twingo room to work. He didn't leave the bridge, however, and just paced back and forth between the forward stations and the main display. He could see Twingo's ears flicking in irritation, but he didn't care. The Phoenix coming up missing was just one more thing on a pile of problems he had that already seemed insurmountable. Who could have guessed that being one of the main players in a rebellion against a galactic superpower would be the least stressful part of his week so far?

  "You said your son was old enough to be in the military, right?" Twingo asked after an excruciating forty-five minutes of plinking away at the terminal.