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“Free me from this prison or die with us. Free me from this prison or die with us,” the swarm chanted over and over in perfect machine unison.

 

CHAPTER 13

MORWYN

VARIABLES: Two foes, both of equal cunning and skill, meet one another on the field of battle. One is guided by ethics and has the higher ground. The other is guided by righ­teous­ness, possessing numbers and ambition.

RIDDLE: Who between the two achieves victory? And, more importantly, how?

—­
Garthem Officer's Training Manual
, “Riddles of Conquest,” SSM-­06 1139 A2E

10th of SSM–10 1445 A2E

“I
bet you are wishing you had listened to wiser judgment and left that old place alone. Am I right, kiddo?” Lunient Tor's ink-­black eyes looked for support from everyone else in the mess with him. No one responded to his comment; all attention was now focused on Morwyn. Red emergency lights lit up the ship's cantina. The atmospheric recyclers were currently inactive, giving the air a stale, closed-­in taste.

Morwyn had expected as much from Private Lunient Tor. He was glad to see that the rest of the crew was far less resigned to this perceived doom. There was truth to the statement, of course. The current situation was difficult, no doubt. Despite all of this, Morwyn considered them far from being finished and even further from being defeated.

“Captain, you requested a report when we knew the damage estimate for my baby
Jinxie
.” Machinist Oran's sour voice spoke over the ship's intercom, thankfully interrupting Lunient before he could carry on.

“I would hear it plainly, Machinist Troy.” Morwyn let out a sigh. Private Beatrix had on several occasions pointed out that if foul moods were a familial trait, Commander Jafahan and Machinist Oran Troy would probably be direct blood relatives.

“Well, Captain Sir, the Infinite Green shares like levels of hatreds and loves for us at present. My ship's hull is intact. That would be sign of Her Love. Now as for the Green's Hate,
Jinxie
's portside mobility drive is shot to shite. We would need at least a standard month of repairs just to get her fully operational again. Until then,
Jinxie
and us, we ain't moving.” Oran's voice was almost boiling over with anger and frustration.

Morwyn pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled a short breath before speaking, choosing his words carefully. “Machinists Oran, Kolto, I understand and thank you both for tending to these problems. But I must ask: Is there no way of restoring basic maneuverability?”

Morwyn could hear Machinist Kolto clearing his throat on the line. His deep Thegran voice almost seemed to boom off the walls as he spoke over the cantina's speakers. “Well, friends. What my love and starfire might have neglected to mention is that the starboard mobility drive remains undamaged. It just got tangled up with the magnetic tether.”

Kolto let out deep grunt as if he were tugging at something heavy. “It will take us some time to free it up, but once the task is completed we will be able to move.”

“How much time will you need to complete this task?” Earlier, Morwyn had ordered Engineers Oran and Kolto outside the ship to assess the damage to the
Jinxed Thirteenth
. While the duo lacked any real form of military decorum, he trusted that they would be more than capable of getting them moving again.

Kolto paused, then clicked his teeth heavily. “Two hours. I would stake my ancestors' names and personal word on it.”

“Until then, my
Jinxie
is crippled and humped,” Oran quickly added to Kolto's estimate.

“Do what you must.” Morwyn took a deep breath. The situation was far from ideal. The ship's mobility, however, was a secondary problem.

Earlier, Pilot Lizbeth Harlowe had made an important point to him. There was no way of knowing if the operating systems had been compromised during the transmission from the station. This was why she had shut down all functions except for gravity, emergency lights and the ship's photosynth generators. On top of the list of repairs, a full system's reboot of the onboard computer would also be required.

Without any operational mainframe, they would have no access to the astrocharts needed to safely plot a course through slipspace. More importantly, they would be unable to get any message to Patrol headquarters, located back at Central Point, light-­years away. This effectively eliminated the possibility of any rescue operation being dispatched.

Crippled, unable to move or call for backup and with no way of knowing if their fellow crewmates on the station were indeed alive or not. It was now painfully clear to Morwyn that they were at the mercy of an as yet unknown machine Intelligence. The longer they remained inactive, the more time they gave their foe to observe, fortify and prepare itself. They needed to take action. Which was why he had summoned Lucky, Chance, Marla Varsin, Lunient Tor, Beatrix and Commander Jafahan to the cantina for a debriefing.

“We are presently wingless birds and the cat is licking her chops.” Morwyn spoke one of the first metaphors Commander Jafahan had taught him as a child. At the time, said saying had been used to describe her position over him while demonstrating a strong takedown and using a younger Morwyn as the test subject.

Morwyn paused, then rested his hands behind his back, calmly surveying the crew before adding, “I aim to change the situation.”

“How do you plan on accomplishing this, kiddo?” Lunient's black eyes darted nervously over toward Jafahan's corner before he quickly cleared his throat and corrected himself. “I mean, Captain Sir.”

“It warms an elsewise frigid heart to see one such as you capable of learning, Private Tor.” Jafahan deftly twirled one of her perfectly balanced and laser-­sharpened battle hatchets in her hand. The hatchet, along with her ser­vice dagger, were her preferred weapons in a close encounter.

“If you kindly grant me a moment, Private Tor. We will achieve victory by removing our opponent's options and maximizing our own.” Morwyn looked everyone in the eyes. “Make no mistake. This will be a very dangerous gambit. However, the payoff is that we get our ­people back and live to celebrate.”

To Morwyn's surprise and satisfaction, Lucky's long barreled chemical slug rifle was rested across his lap. It had a heavy wooden stock off of which hung what appeared to be a dozen black feathers. A long vapostick hung lazily from his lip as Lucky polished the clear glass lens of his rifle's scope with a dark rag.

“With all respect due your rank, sir. It ain't my first outing. I can't well remember the one that ever qualified as safe.” Lucky blew out a wisp of vapor, shooting Jafahan a knowing nod. They were both Wolvers who had once, at some time or other, served in the Pax Legion.

Commander Jafahan and Lucky had been trained by one of the best military machines civilized cosmos had ever known. Yet sadly, there was only one operation Wolvers on notoriously Kelthan-­favoring Pax military missions were ever used for. And that was as cannon fodder.

Private Chance gave everyone in the room a hesitant glance, her eyes wide, her lips pursed. “Those hands of yours had best be steady when you're watching my back with that rail rifle of yours, Private.” Jafahan's words were an intimidating growl. They had the intended effect, as upon hearing them, Chance almost bolted out of her chair, swallowing hard and nervously.

“I . . . this . . . I've never been in a live operation outside of VAR training. I don't know if—­” Morwyn raised his hand to silence Chance before she could carry on any further.

“Private Chance, I selected you, personally.” Truth be told, Morwyn was now used to the way Commander Jafahan had of ruffling ­people's feathers. However, now was neither the time nor the place for him to correct her on this practice. “Every member of this crew, myself included, has all of the Infinite's faith in your skills. Do you trust me?”

Chance closed her eyes, took a deep breath and swallowed hard. When she opened them again she was visibly much calmer. “Yes, sir, Captain Sir.”

“Good.” Morwyn paused, allowing for any further interruptions. Beatrix shot him a proud nod. Which was something she always did whenever an action he took met with her approval. Jafahan snorted rudely at this. Morwyn ignored this reaction and carried on.

“Commander Jafahan, you and Privates Beatrix and Tor will board the station. From there you will remove our opponent's combat options.”

“How do you propose to get us on that station without any or all of its sensors going off the moment we dock?” Lunient Tor gave one of his war braids a hard and nervous yank.

“That will be the relatively easier part of the plan, Private Tor.” Morwyn cleared his throat before adding bluntly, “You three will be performing a cordless jump.”

Commander Jafahan let out an angry growl after hearing this. Beatrix, the Infinite bless her, merely smiled. She had passed all her cordless jumps, both in virtual augmented reality simulations and live-­fire training operations, with flying colors. Morwyn had not once ever known his good friend to shy away from any challenge presented to her.

Lunient's black eyes went wide. He let out what sounded like a slew of almost musical curses in Confederated Kelthan before switching back to his Pax Common. “Have you lost what little humping reason you even had to begin with!?”

Beatrix was almost beaming and nodding to the side proudly. She took a large step forward. “Big and bold, sir. Exactly what a Thegran would do.”

Morwyn resisted the urge to smile back at her.

A cordless jump was just about the most foolhardy dangerous thing an individual could do. No one ever stepped out into the cosmosphere without being secured to a ship. However, a cordless jump was still one of the best ways to get onto a space body undetected. Magnetic docking cords would set off any number of motion or impact sensors; diamond-­wire rope could also be picked up on shortbeam scans.

But three bodies, floating and untethered? For all intents and purposes, they would be invisible to any electronic detection. The risk would be big, and if all went according to plan, the payoff would be even bigger.

That was, if none of them overshot the jump, missed the landing altogether or splattered onto the station's hull. “This is far from being my first dance.” Jafahan shot Morwyn a sharp-­fanged grin. “So just give us the details.”

“This is humping lunacy!” Lunient was clearly not happy with the direction the meeting was taking. “There is no way you will convince me to—­”

“Private Tor!” Morwyn had heard enough. “Will you rather sit here and do nothing, just abandoning our crewmates to certain death?”

Morwyn's comment seemed to take the wind from the sails of Lunient's argument as he looked to everyone else in the room. The realization was apparently dawning on him that no one was going to cower away. He finally threw up his hands in frustration. “Mark the words, Captain. I am most definitely demanding some sort of salvaging rights on this job, that's for true!”

Morwyn shrugged at this. Coin, honor, thrills, duty—­Morwyn did not care how one found one's courage. Only that they find it. “Fair enough.” Morwyn continued his briefing uninterrupted.

“Once on the station you will have two tasks. First: locate and destroy one of the station's thrusters. I want it crippled. Commander Jafahan, am I safe assuming that this is within the realms of the possible?”

Commander Jafahan shrugged. “I've got a big bang or two stored up for a dark day like today.”

“Excellent. Once the explosives are set, you are to make your way to the source of the communications block and destroy it. Pilot Harlowe has informed me that it is located on the outer hull of the station's Inner Ring.” Morwyn crossed his arms over his chest. “Now, if I were our opponent I would make certain that it was protected, so be on your guard.”

“It appears that I will no doubt soon be very busy. I'll be preparing the medical bay.” Dr. Marla Varsin had remained silent throughout the briefing. She made to get up and leave.

Morwyn shook his head and raised his hand, stopping Varsin in her tracks. “That is not why you were summoned here, Doctor. We need to reestablish contact with the machine mind running the station, distract it and buy as much time for the operation as we can. Since it seems to only speak in Late Modern and we no longer have a translator on board, you have just been volunteered for the task.”

Marla Varsin let out a tired groan. Her eyes were still sharp but there were heavy bags beneath them and Morwyn noticed Varsin scratching at her arm. Back in his days with the Pax police forces in the ghettos of Barsul on Ambrosia, Morwyn had quickly learned how to recognize an addict's shuffle.

Marla Varsin let out an overlong sigh before speaking. “I will see what I can do.”

“I would expect nothing less of you, Dr. Varsin.” Morwyn stepped back. “Questions? Comments? I am open to hearing both now.”

“Potential suicide, is it, then? This is the best plan you could come up with, Captain Sir?” Lunient slouched back in his chair. “As per usual, the fates seem to enjoy pissing all over me.”

“Quite the opposite! The fates appear to be shining on you, Private.” Beatrix turned to face Lunient. “They have given you this wonderful chance at adding glory to your names.”

Lunient merely slouched forward in his seat, his spirits no more lifted. “Thanks, but I've only got the one.”

Morwyn looked to both Chance and Lucky. “Sergeant Lucky, Private Chance, you two will be our team's cover. I want you both suited up and offering sniper support from the
Jinxed Thirteenth
.”

Lucky slapped a gloomy Lunient Tor on the shoulder, offering him his vapostick. Morwyn smiled when he saw the older Wolver do this. “The will of the Green is on your side. I've still got sharp eyes and even steadier hands.”

Lunient said nothing as he accepted the offered vapostick and took a long heavy drag from it. “You will have to forgive me if I'm not celebrating the prospect of a horrible death like a new birth.”