Authors: Joshua Dalzelle
“You’re asking too much,” Jason insisted. “We were more or less forced into action in this instance. You’re talking about a deliberate assault on a target. I may not be up on all the ins and outs of legalities in this part of the galaxy, but I have to believe that what you’re proposing is highly criminal.”
“Jason, you’ve personally killed nearly ten beings since I’ve met you. You didn’t seem overly concerned about legal complications then…”
“That is NOT the way to get my cooperation!” Jason shouted, jabbing a finger into Doc’s chest for emphasis, suddenly irate. “A situation born of self defense is entirely different than premeditated killing, and make no mistake; firing on a building from a ship is no different than shooting someone with a gun. As I remember it, your hesitation almost got
all
of us killed… where was your moral high ground after I killed that guard to save your life?” The rest of the crew stood motionless, watching the increasingly hostile exchange between the two. Jason and Doc stared at each other for a few more tense seconds.
“You’re right, Jason. I was out of line,” Doc conceded, his shoulders slumping forward in defeat. “I’m sorry.” Jason drew in a breath to deliver another blistering retort, still seething, and then stopped himself. He slowly let his breath escape between his lips, his anger ebbing away with it.
“It’s fine, Doc. I understand… I really do,” Jason said softly.
“Guys,” Twingo interjected once a lot of the heat had bled off the conversation, “why don’t we talk about this later, once we’ve had some time to process everything we’ve just been through. I can see your side, Jason, but this is obviously something that Doc feels is important. Maybe we shouldn’t just dismiss him out of hand, at least not yet.”
"We've come this far together,” Jason said to everyone, but looking Doc in the eye. “If you're telling me this is something that needs to be done, then I guess we need to at least discuss it. Either way, it seems we’re stuck with each other for at least the foreseeable future. I’m assuming we’re all leaving on this ship together, right guys?"
"I'm in," Twingo added instantly. "Crusher?"
"I'm with Commander Burke for as long as he needs me."
"You guys have a spot for me?" Kage asked hopefully. "I don't really have anywhere else to go and I like how this outfit operates." Jason looked at the others and shrugged.
"Why not?" Jason said. Looking up he spotted 777 walking back towards their group. "Hey, Lucky 7, what can I do for you?"
"I apologize in advance for eavesdropping, Commander," he started. "But I'd like to join your crew as well. There is no place for me where the others are going, and I am certain I can be of use."
"Glad to have you," Jason said after seeing Crusher perk up at the notion of 777 joining their crew. He seemed to have a serious soft spot for the synth for whatever reason.
"What are we going to do with Deetz?" Twingo asked, changing the subject.
"Aw shit! I completely forgot about that asshole," Jason swore. "Come on, let's go deal with this now." He marched back up the ramp without waiting for a response. Deetz was right were they left him, powered down and restrained in the heavy chair in engineering. The six-person crew stood in a semi-circle around him.
"So, what are we going to do with him?" Doc asked, looking at Jason.
"Lucky, your kind is few and far between anymore, correct?" Jason asked.
"Yes, Commander. We're a species that is slowly going extinct. When the last of us goes offline that will be the end of the synthetics," Lucky confirmed. Jason weighed his options. Destroying Deetz was certainly the safest, and most permanent, course of action. But, the thought that he might be contributing to a species' extinction wasn't pleasant either. Staring at the still form of in the chair, he knew what his decision had to be, so there was no point in dragging it out further than necessary.
"We're not going to kill him," Jason said. "Turn him on, Twingo." Without a word the engineer entered some commands on a tablet computer he had grabbed off a work bench. Deetz twitched and raised his head as he came back online. "Hello, Deetz. Nice nap?"
"Why have you done this, Jason?" Deetz asked.
"You've got to be kidding me you fucking weasel. What was your deal with Bondrass to turn me over?" Jason was quickly losing both his patience and his temper. Deetz flinched at the mention of the crime boss.
"So, you found out. How clever of you."
"This is true then?" Lucky asked. "You were going to sell these men for personal gain?"
"What do you care?" Deetz sneered. "These are the same biologicals that would use you as a weapon with no concern for your safety or sanity, Combat Unit 777. You're nothing but an expendable resource."
"Not to me," Jason said forcefully, not interested in a protracted philosophical debate. "And despite being a slimy piece of trash, neither are you. As I understand it you're a fading species, I won't contribute to that. Not today, at least. You're going to get on the ship that’s sitting outside with all the other prisoners that we freed from The Vault and you're going to fly out of here far, far away from me. This is a onetime reprieve, I catch you near me again and I'll shut you down. Understood?"
"Yes," Deetz said, defeated. Jason gestured for Twingo to release the clamps and allow Deetz to walk off the ship under his own power. He trudged out of engineering, not even considering trying anything foolish with the powerful battlesynth right behind him. Once they reached the bottom of the ramp Jason simply pointed to the waiting ship across the field.
"Go," he said before turning his back on the synth.
It was a nearly twelve hours of back breaking work later when the crew of the gunship watched the enormous cargo hauler lumber into the sky on an artificial gravity well and thrusters, both of which played hell with Jason's equilibrium. They stood watching until it was just a speck in the sky before heading back up the ramp. The cargo bay was now flush with crates and pallets loaded with precious metals, exotic weaponry, and hard currency sponsored by governments that still honored non-traceable bills. The crew shuffled up to the lounge area wearily (except for Lucky, who never tired) and sunk into the sofas.
"So do we talk this out now? Or wait until tomorrow?" Doc asked.
"Fuck that. Anything we talk about now is likely to be meaningless. I’m wiped out so I'm going to bed," Jason said as he got up. "Computer, lock the ship up, ground defense protocol alpha."
"Acknowledged."
"I will stay on the bridge and monitor our defenses, Commander. I require no rest," Lucky offered, still standing while the others sat.
"Look at you, Lucky 7, earning your keep already," Jason said, patting the synth on the back as he walked by. "Thanks. Let me know if you need anything, I'll be in my quarters. Goodnight, all." Jason went to his quarters, kicked his boots off after laying his weapons on the desk, and, for the first time in weeks, fell into a deep, untroubled sleep. The rest of the crew disbursed slowly and found their way to their bunks. On the bridge, Combat Unit 777 stood like a sentinel, every sensor alert. As the rest of the crew slept, the battlesynth stood watch and evaluated its existence and, for the first time since coming online, felt some small sense of belonging. He hoped it wasn't fleeting.
The battlesynth descended from the bridge when he heard the crew stirring down in the galley. He approached the group and was waved over. "Good morning, Lucky! Or whatever time it really is," Twingo called out to him.
"Good morning, Twingo. Commander. Crewmates," Lucky said respectfully as he moved to the end of the high top table the crew was eating at. "I trust everyone slept well."
"Like a baby with you standing watch," Jason said between bites. "First good sleep I've had since this debacle started."
"We're going to discuss the possibility of our next operation after we eat," Doc said to the synth. "We'd appreciate if you'd lend us whatever insight you might have."
"It would be my pleasure," Lucky said. Twenty minutes later they were all crammed into the small meeting room on the upper deck, aft and port from the bridge, discussing their plan of attack on the facility Doc swore was a critical target.
“Ok, Doc. Now that we’re all rested, fed, and calm… try and convince us we need to hit this target,” Jason said as he sat down in one of the chairs.
“Very well,” Doc began, activating the main wall display. “This is the planet Kaldsh-4, a standard sized, lightly industrialized planet with a small population. It’s mostly just large tracts of agricultural land that supports the food demands of the heavily populated core planets.”
Jason settled back as
Doc continued to lead the briefing since he had detailed intel on the target. In fact, he had incredibly precise locations and schematics for the facility thanks to a hidden, encrypted memory chip he had pulled out of the tablet computer he had brought on board with him at Pinnacle Station, so much so that it aroused Jason’s suspicion about how involved he really was in Bondrass’ operations.
After an hour of back and forth, the team decided that a direct approach would probably be best. The facility wasn’t heavily fortified as it employed a “hiding in plain sight” approach to secrecy. It was also not heavily staffed, another plus since most of the crew wanted to avoid too much collateral damage and casual killing during the operation. The heavy arsenal the gunship carried made it possible for them to directly attack the target without too much risk. Doc was also adamant that they had to capture, or kill, a specific target he swore would be onsite. He actually insisted that this objective was more important that the destruction of the complex itself. Crusher and Lucky immediately volunteered for this job, but Doc said the target would not put up much of a fight; she was an academic, not a warrior.
“Her name is Dr. Jevara Da’Chelic. Here’s a picture of her,” Doc was saying as he worked the controls for the room’s main display. The picture looked like a typical security badge mug shot and was of a female of the same species as the doctor. She had shoulder length, jet black hair (compared to Doc’s bald head) and looked to be quite a bit younger as well.
“Why is she so dangerous, Doc?” Jason asked.
“She’s really the linchpin to the whole operation. She’s not necessarily the most brilliant scientist in the program, but she is the best at organizing the research across disciplines and keeping the project on track. Losing her will set them back years.” Doc looked at the picture wistfully for just a split second. It wasn’t much, but it didn’t escape Jason’s notice.
“And if this facility is left online you’re saying it poses a grave and immediate danger to a large number of people?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. I can’t overstate the risk in letting them continue this operation.” Doc fell silent and stood at the head of the table, waiting.
“Well... I’m not completely sold, but I’m not saying no either,” Jason said carefully. “Let’s go ahead and start planning for a tactical strike on the facility and we’ll launch out shortly after. Once we’re there, if it doesn’t seem right, or even possible at all, I’m pulling the plug and we’re bugging out.”
“I can’t ask for more than that, Commander. Thank you,” Doc said with a slight nod.
They adjourned the meeting and Jason dismissed them to individually prepare for their role in the upcoming festivities. He had his own preparations to make, but first he followed Doc back to the infirmary to have a word with him while he was away from the others. “I know we’ve beat this to death, but you’re one-hundred percent certain this needs to be done? If it’s such a risk, why not just alert the authorities?”
“Authorities,” Doc snorted with disgust. “You think I haven’t tried that? I left an anonymous tip that led to an exhaustive investigation of the place. They found nothing that led to a single arrest or indictment despite the very specific information I had provided. Bondrass suspected I had notified the Confed Investigative Services and took it out on both me and my sister.” He shuddered involuntarily as he recalled that particular horror.
“So what is this place, exactly? You have to give me something, Doc, you’re asking us to risk a lot on faith. The others are all trusting you to be on the level about this,” Jason said, trying a different tact.
“They’re following you, Jason. Their decision has little to do with me. I wish I could answer your question in a way that would satisfy you, and I’m not being mysterious just for the sake of keeping secrets, but what you don’t know you can’t be forced to divulge if the law, or our enemies, ever catch up with us.” Doc’s answer left a cold lump in Jason’s gut.
“Give me the broad strokes then,” he said.