Legacy of the Centaur (RFVIII), Chapter 21
Spoiler alert: This is the work-in-progress of the 8th book in the Reckless Faith series. You may read the prologue here: https://devonai.wordpress.com/2023/10/31/reckless-faith-viii-prologue/
Time had run out for the crews of the Reckless Faith and the Fox. Though the report from the Antares had made all of them feel as if their hearts had been ripped from their chests, the situation above Tartarus demanded their immediate attention. After the abrupt departure of the Percheron, the Alnairian fleet had become unresponsive, despite their initial assertion that they were open to negotiation. Instead, one of the heavy cruisers in orbit had just released a smaller craft that was for certain a dropship, the latter of which headed toward the planet’s inhospitable atmosphere. Moments earlier, Ari had swooned in her chair, almost falling out of it, before waving off any attempt at help. Whatever was going on with her would have to wait.
“Fox, target the dropship and destroy it,” began John. “Zukova, begin an attack run on its host, nice and slow, full volley.”
Vecky’s voice could be heard over the radio. “Copy that.”
Those present on the bridge of the Faith quickly lost sight of the dropship as Milly began her approach toward the larger vessel. She set her velocity to three hundred kilometers per hour relative to their target, and enthusiastically squeezed the trigger on her flight stick as soon as the Faith was in range. The deck shook as a combination of 30mm shells and superheated copper plasma shot ahead, raking the cruiser in a devastating broadside.
“Dropship destroyed,” said Vecky.
“Give our target a salvo of slugs,” replied John. “Aim for their propulsion.”
“Coming about… eat shit!”
Those on the Faith rightly assumed that Vecky wasn’t talking to them, and Milly wheeled the ship around to reestablish a visual on the cruiser. A barely-noticeable debris field had formed around it, but more evidently, it had lost attitude control, yawing sharply until its bow was pointed directly at Tartarus. John glanced at Ari, expecting a status report, but she had her head in her hands.
“What do you see, Dana?” he asked.
“The cruiser is dead in the water,” Dana replied. “Based on its current trajectory, it will pass the Kármán line in less than a minute.”
“Sucks for them. Ari, are you with us?”
Ari shook her head. “I’m sorry. A massive data dump has been initiated from the Percheron. It’s more than nine hundred exabytes of information. I don’t even know where to start. All I can do for now is designate a partition within our orb and store it.”
“What the hell is an exabyte?”
“A million terabytes. Oh god, I think it’s Christie.”
“Do your best, we’ve got this. Dana, how is the rest of the fleet responding?”
“They’re firing on the Fox.”
“Captain Kitsune here,” said Vecky. “Don’t worry; I’m taking the Fox outside of the range of their weapons.”
“The cruiser’s orbit has failed. They’re heading in with a high angle of attack.”
“They’re likely fucked,” said Kyrie.
“Devonai is right. Based on our scans, there’s no way their hull can withstand the friction.”
“Fuck ‘em,” John grunted.
“The Percheron and the Antares have returned.”
“Send an acknowledgment to them. Dana, in case that visual display wasn’t enough, I want you to tell Alnair that Tartarus is now under our guardianship, and any further attempt to land will be met with the same level of force.”
“I’ll send it,” Dana said. “The Fox is out of range; none of the fleet has broken off to pursue her.”
“Good. Let’s hope they either respect the standoff, or decide to talk. Ari, how much time do you need to interpret the info they sent?”
Ari shrugged. “Hours? Days? Based on our own orb’s OS, this appears to be an entire system’s worth of data. You might as well be asking me to review my own quantum matrix, bit by bit.”
Another voice could be heard through the intercom. “Sortarius Leonid here. The Antares has received the same information. Ferro, if we work together, we might make faster progress.”
“Then by all means,” said John, “Faen, do us a favor. Contact the Percheron, and let them know I want to dock so we can assist with recovery operations.”
“No problem.”
“Great. Stand by for further updates. Reckless Faith out. Dana, Kyrie, Milly, let’s go to the conference room.”
John, along with those mentioned, exited the bridge via the port-side door, and all of them took a seat around the oval table at the center of the room. They settled into their chairs heavily, the enormity of the situation at last overcoming them. John had anticipated the buildup of stress among his crew, and only regretted that Ari was too busy to join them. Despite their palpable grief, he was sure no one felt worse than Ray. And yet, of all they’d lost that day, Ray was the most likely to see some sort of salvation, the fact of which gave John a glimmer of hope.
Dana must have sensed his thoughts, and spoke first. “The data transfer is most likely the failsafe protocol we programmed into the orbs. In the event of the loss of one of our quantum matrices, if an android host is unavailable, the nearest ship will receive a backup copy. If true, the next step is for Ari to replicate a new orb, and immediately transfer the data to it.”
John nodded. “I’m aware, which is why I’m not completely distraught. Still, I know we all had friends on the Percheron. It’s beyond hope that the data contains anyone other than Christie, so if any of you have that thought in your heads, it’s best to accept the truth.”
“Not to be callous,” began Kyrie, “but the crew of the Percheron knew what they were getting into. Hell, half of the original crew resigned after the events of our last mission, and their replacements were allegedly screened by NASA better than their predecessors. Of the four of us, did any of us really have a deep friendship with those we’ve lost today?”
“That’s why I’ve asked you here. In this moment of respite, before the next action, I want to make sure none of you are crippled in grief. Which is fine, if you are.”
John’s awkwardness was apparent to everyone else, though as the group looked at each other, it became evident that it was unwarranted. Dana rolled her chair over to his, and put her hand on her arm.
“Ever since that day on Residere Alpha, when I was left alone with Byron, my path has been clear. Every single one of my attachments is ephemeral, and if I couldn’t accept that, I wouldn’t be here right now.”
“I’ll be honest,” began Milly, “that sort of fatalism isn’t something I’ve encountered, outside of what the mission records tell me. Perhaps I’m privileged in my role here on the Faith.”
John said, “So then, were you friends with Dietrich or any of the others beyond what I already know?”
Milly was crestfallen. “Yes. Agena and Haverbrook’s deaths hit me the hardest. I personally trained them on the particulars of starship flight characteristics, and in the case of Agena, she and I were instrumental in the development of the F-40. I’m not ‘crippled,’ as you suggested, but yeah, it sucks.”
“Of course, I should have thought about the Warhawk program. I suppose that begs the question of whether or not you want to transfer to the Percheron to pilot theirs.”
“That’s wildly optimistic,” interjected Dana. “Think about it. We all know the government and NASA were reluctant to send the Percheron on this mission. With such a disaster to consider, there’s no way they’ll allow it to accompany us again, not with the fate of Earth in the balance.”
John nodded slowly. “You’re right. We’ve likely expended all of our goodwill with our patrons. We could appropriate the Tondelayo; it’ll fit in our cargo bay, but that’s not something we can worry about right now. We’ve likely declared total war with the Alnairians, whether that was our intention or not.”
“No doubt,” began Kyrie, “but unless we’re willing to slaughter them wholesale, the standoff remains. I’d caution everyone not to forget about the involvement of the Tenchiik. If Alnair had the connections to hire them, they can likely call on conventional mercenaries like the Black Talon.”
“Excellent point. A half-dozen Rakhar ships would be a real threat to our little squadron. Now that you mention it, they may have already called for outside help. Whatever we’re going to do, we need to do it quickly.”
Ari’s voice broke into the conversation. “Hey, you guys need to get back up here, pronto.”
Without further prompting, John and his friends got up and returned to the bridge. Ari was seated at a console, her fingers flying across the keyboard.
“What’s up?” asked John.
“The transfer is almost complete,” she replied, her eyes fixed forward, “and like an idiot I didn’t think to establish a partition first. If it is Christie within all this code, I don’t know what would happen if we allowed the raw data to get dumped into the quantum matrix. It could have dire results for me, personally.”
“You mean you and Christie becoming one? Or her overwriting you?”
“Either. Obviously I’m not too keen on being deleted, or having all of her memories, though I suppose the latter is preferable to losing her entirely.”
“It would be uncomfortable for Ray and I, to say the least. Why not replicate a new orb right now and give her somewhere to go?”
“Shut up and let me work.”
John shrugged, and sat down next to her. “Sorry, you’re the chatty one.”
A few seconds later, Ari leaned back in her chair and sighed in relief. “Fucking hell, that was close. The partition was successful. In terms you can understand, all that data has been placed in a mirror image of opposing quarks; which, by the way, has never been attempted before.”
“Oh yeah, that totally clears it up,” said Kyrie.
“We’ll be sure to alert the Nobel committee when we get home,” said John. “Initiate replication of a new orb whenever you’re ready.”
Ari nodded. “Here we go. I’ll put it in the Zero-G room.”
“That makes sense. Dana, Kyrie, you’re with me. Zukova, take the helm.”
John stood up, and he and the two he requested followed him through the port-side door and into the central corridor. By the time they got to the Zero-G room, another orb was already waiting for them. Dana again grabbed John’s arm, this time in anticipation. John rested his hand on her shoulder, understanding her intention.
“Fingers crossed,” said Kyrie.
Ari’s voice filled their ears. “The viability of the orb has been confirmed. I’m sending the partitioned data to it. Don’t get your hopes up.”
“Too late,” said Dana.
__________
On an idyllic alabaster beach, under a turquoise sky, Chason Talyn stood with his new best friend, a humanoid woman named Vester. She was fishing, an effort that seemed futile considering the shallow water at their feet, but Chason didn’t know enough about the fauna on Alpha Lupi to suggest otherwise. Though the reunion with his sister had gone well enough, he was well aware of what she had told the Terrans and their allies about this planet, and the discrepancy gnawed at him. He’d only had the better part of a day to get to know Vesther, but all of his interactions with her seemed to indicate that she could be trusted.
Vesther pulled the running end of her line from the water, and considered the disgusting lump of flesh she was using as bait. Chason’s stomach turned at the smell, though he couldn’t say it wasn’t sufficient for its intended purpose. Still, anything that would be attracted by it wasn’t something he would take pleasure in eating. With no other choices available, she cast her line back into the surf, and tugged unenthusiastically on the rod. Behind them, the sun was setting against a backdrop of fluffy clouds, illuminating them with hues of pink and orange.
“I was hoping to catch something other than the crustaceans and birds we’ve been supplementing our diet with,” she said. “Now I’m not sure this is going to work.”
“If such a thing is so important to you,” replied Chason, “you could always take the Leto to a more temperate region for hunting.”
“It’s more of a morale thing than an imperative.”
Having reached the limit of his patience, but nonetheless aware of the sensitivity of the subject, Chason chose his next words carefully.
“It’s rare to have an entire habitable planet with no intelligent indigenous life.”
She wiggled her rod. “As far as we know.”
“One could settle hundreds of people on the opposite hemisphere without ever impacting it as a refuge.”
She wiped a bead of sweat from her brow. “I take it you’re not happy with our captain’s decision to keep this place a secret.”
He sat down in the sand. “You’ve heard my story. All those years as a prisoner have made me sympathetic to the Thesprotian’s struggles. So much effort was made to secure my own freedom, and yet I can’t comprehend Wega’s lack of compassion to those left behind.”
“You don’t know the full truth, Chason. If you keep pushing, you may find answers you don’t like. Even blood relations have their limits of fidelity.”
“I’ll be honest with you, Vesther. I’m not happy to find out that Wega’s profession is so, uh… fluid.”
She threw her entire rod into the surf, and wiped her hands on her pants. “In that case, I suggest a different tact entirely. Ask to take your leave, if you’re so conflicted. Just know that it’s unlikely that Captain Talyn will agree to take you back to Alnair, for obvious reasons. So either way, you won’t be able to help the Thesprotians.”
He nodded. “You’re probably right. I shouldn’t be so quick to overlook everything that she’s done for me. On a totally unrelated note, you said earlier that you’d be willing to help familiarize me with the Leto’s systems. If I’m to be a fully-functional member of her crew, I’m going to need some help navigating them. I’ve never been aboard a Res-ZorCon ship before.”
“I did say that. I’m also sure you’ve noticed that you’re locked out of all higher command functions. Anything beyond adjusting the temperature in your cabin is going to be dependent on Captain Talyn’s permission. Look, Chason, I’ve been friendly with you since you got here. Flirtatious, even. But I’d caution you not to test my allegiances.”
“Perish the thought.”
Chason stood up, and walked back toward the Leto. Some time earlier, the other members of the crew had started a party nearby, and continued their revelry among billowing white tents. He hadn’t felt like joining them before, and felt even less inclined now. His thoughts again returned to a gift he had been given by the crew of the Reckless Faith, an object that he had brought aboard concealed inside a large box of rations. Though he fully expected Wega or someone else to discover it during his transfer, no one had questioned it.
The box contained a SRC transceiver, initially offered as something to be used by the Leto, but he had a feeling it might benefit him to keep it a secret as long as possible. The device had its own power supply, and while he was sorely tempted to use it, he didn’t know enough about its encryption abilities nor the types of signals it could generate to do so without being detected. As he passed by the celebration, he could see that Wega and Harrey were present, both either drunk or working on it. Though the tents prevented him from seeing anyone else, it sounded like most, if not all, of the crew were there, not counting Vesther, of course. With a rush of adrenaline, he realized that now would be a great time to try to contact the Faith. The only other choices, best he could figure, were to either confront Wega or shut up and let come what may.
Chason boarded the Leto and made his way to his quarters. The small interior room was barely larger than the cell that he had called home for so long, but it least he had privacy, and the bed was more comfortable. The box of rations hadn’t moved since he’d plopped it in a corner, and remained sealed with a strip of brown tape just as John had given it to him. He pulled out a small folding knife and opened the container. He wasn’t surprised to find several actual ration packs on top, and moved aside the unfamiliar Terran food to reveal the transceiver. A non-descript black metal cube, half a meter on a side, it was extremely heavy, so either Harrey was stronger than he looked or the man hadn’t noticed anything unusual when he helped Chason carry it aboard.
He already knew how to interface with it via his PDA, so he was able to leave the device in place while he accessed it. Unfortunately for him, what he hadn’t done yet was confirm that his PDA was able to translate all of its functions into a language he could read. Indeed, the translation that was offered seemed imperfect, only adding to his anxiety about attempting a clandestine transmission. He took a deep breath and reminded himself that the party outside would probably continue well after dark. Time was on his side.
