Project Starfighter (24 page)

My own memories of the event are
sketchy. All I know is that I was stolen from a construction facility
some time ago.

That would have been the work of the
Resistance. “When were you made?” Chris asked. “How old are
you?”

My body was constructed about six
months ago, but I was only ‘born’ within the last two or so. As
far as I am aware, I am the only WEAPCO-developed machine that is
sentient.

Well, that’s what you believe,
at any rate
, Chris thought to himself.

Tell me, Chris – when your
crusade is over and done with, what do you ultimately hope to have
achieved?

“I just want people to be free and
happy,” Chris answered. “WEAPCO is an evil corporation.”

Yes. Freedom, and the opportunity
to stand up, be heard, and be respected. I can understand that. Thank
for to taking the time to talk to me, Chris. I really appreciate it.

The display of the Firefly’s
console lit up once again.

The reason you cannot connect the
datapad to my systems is because it is not an authorised device. I
can allow you temporary restricted access that will let you copy the
data you’re after. There you go.

Chris saw the datapad was connected,
and set about transferring the data. It took less than three seconds.
“Done,” he said.

If you need anything else, just
ask.

“Sure,” Chris said. “Thank
you, Athena.”

You’re welcome, Chris.

“I have to get this back to Sid,
so he can look into whether or not we can upgrade the plasma
cannons,” Chris said. “I’ll be back later.”

He slipped off the helmet, lowered
the cockpit to the floor, and started back to the bridge. He glanced
back at the fighter as he left. He wasn’t entirely sure that he
trusted it yet. It was a product of WEAPCO, after all.

Even so, something about the Firefly
had touched him. Something pure, thoughtful, and honest. Qualities
typically only found in humans.

~

“What
did you manage to find out about the crew?” Chris asked, handing
Sid the datapad containing the information about the Firefly.

“It’s ... strange,” Sid said.
“At first, I thought that the ship’s AI might have been
malfunctioning because of whatever the Firefly had done to it. But
after I dug deeper I found that all the crew records were a perfect
match for what we were told.”

“So, this thing really has been
going solo and picking up junk all by itself for the last eighty-odd
years?”

“Yeah,” Sid said, sitting down
in the captain’s chair and working through the information on the
datapad. “All the senior crew disappeared first, followed by the
mid-level workers, and finally the maintenance crew; repair staff,
those sorts of people. Sure, there only used to be about twenty
people aboard at any one time, but still ...”

“And they were all just replaced
with the AI and its bots?”

Sid nodded. “Well, I guess it’s
not totally unusual. WEAPCO does, after all, make use of a great deal
of AIs. What’s weird is that the crew just ... vanished. There is
no record of them being transferred anywhere else, or of them having
their employment terminated. No P45s or anything. They’re just
gone, as if the rest of the pages of their lives were tossed in the
bin.”

“Do you think that maybe WEAPCO
spaced them, or had them killed off or something?” Chris asked.

“I wondered that, too, but then
felt sure that it would have provoked an investigation. Their
families and friends would have been up in arms to find out what
happened.”

“WEAPCO’s a law unto itself,”
Chris said. “They wouldn’t have to answer to anyone.”

“Hmm, I’m going to keep looking.
None of this adds up. Based on a list I have extracted from the
Dodger
’s database,
there are a grand total of three WEAPCO vessels that can still
sustain a human crew.”

“Three?!”

“Three,” Sid said, nodding. “All
of them used by the so-called ‘Upper Circle’. The senior
partners, basically.”

“How many people make up the Upper
Circle?”

“Twelve, assisted by about thirty
or forty aides. Not that, as far as I can tell, the aides are
permitted access to the ships.”

“But ...” Chris was baffled.
“But WEAPCO have thousands of ships.”

“Hundreds of thousands,” Sid
said.

Chris couldn’t help but scowl. Sid
wasn’t playing a trick on him, surely? “How many people live in
WEAPCO space?”

“Well, that’s the even stranger
thing. From what I understand, all of WEAPCO’s employees seem to
live on Earth, and nowhere else. And, according to this record here,
there are approximately ...” He tapped away at the console in front
of him for a moment. “Six thousand people living on the planet.”

Chris stared, open-mouthed. Sid
shrugged.

“That data must be corrupt,”
Chris said.

“Agreed,” Sid said. “I’ll
see if I can restore from a backup. Because if that data
is
accurate, what I want to know is who is in charge of this thing.”

“What do you think of the Firefly
data? Can we upgrade it?” Chris asked, indicating the datapad.

“It’s a clear improvement over
the basic Firefly model,” Sid said, tapping away at the datapad.

He linked it to the freighter’s
main computer system, a holographic image of the fighter springing up
in the centre of the bridge, rotating slowly.

“We can safely increase the power
of the two cannons by fitting a plasma condenser, and an enhanced
cooler will enable them to fire more often. After that, I’m not
sure. We might need to plumb in a new power supply.”

“Do you know where we can get a
condenser and a cooler from?” Chris asked, studying the image of
the Firefly.

Sid grinned. “Funny you should
ask. As a matter of fact, this freighter is transporting pretty much
everything we’d ever need, except the kitchen sink. There’s at
least four or five of everything we could ever want.”

“That was convenient,” Chris
said. “We should probably try to find out a little more about that.
Computer, what was your job? What are your mission parameters?”

“I am under the command of Chris
Bainfi—” the freighter’s AI began.

“Your
original
mission
parameters,” Chris interrupted. “What was your mission before I
took over command?”

“I was collecting salvage, unused
parts, and scrap for recycling,” the AI answered him. “I work in
conjunction with drones, bots, and other Corporation-approved
delegates, to keep shipping lanes and inhabited worlds free of
potentially harmful matter. I then use the gathered materials to
affect repairs to the Corporation’s spacecraft or recycle them for
application elsewhere.”

“Right,” Chris said. “Do you
have anything aboard that might be able to effect repairs or upgrades
to a Firefly-class starfighter?”

“I possess full schematics for
every known Corporation-built vessel, bot, drone, and machine. Given
correct parameters and materials, I can perform upgrades and repairs
to virtually any of them.”

“And do you have the schematics
and materials you would need to perform upgrades to the defensive and
offensive measures of WEAPCO starfighters?”

“Yes. I have acquired such
materials during my salvage operation.”

“Good, let’s get cracking,”
Chris said. “Sid, I don’t think we should hang around here much
longer. If the
Dodger
was on a schedule, WEAPCO will probably
be wondering what’s happened to their freighter.”

“True.” Sid scratched his chin
for a moment. “Computer, given the right materials and time, would
you be able to disguise yourself from WEAPCO at all?”

“Investigating. I can confirm that
I am able to undergo such a transformation, in order to facilitate
covert operations. Doing so would see substantial modifications to
the interior and exterior of the vessel.”

“Would the internal modifications
put the lives within at risk?” Sid asked, glancing at Chris.

“No.”

“How long would it take, roughly?”
Chris asked.

“Seventy-two to a hundred hours is
the average for a ship of this class.”

Chris smiled. This couldn’t get
better. “First, we upgrade the Firefly, and then, once we jump to
Eyananth, we’ll go covert. All good?”

“All good,” Sid said.

“Right, let’s do this.”

K
line
Kethlan’s Fer-de-Lance transitioned from jump space, emerging from
a jumpgate in the Spirit system, along with his escort of Talons. He
had jumped in close to Ceradse, passing by the orbital station and
commencing planet fall not long after.

His destination was Tira, where the
Spire had stood. The tower had collapsed at its base, mostly
retaining its structure as it had gone over, and not breaking apart
until the final impact with the ground. The WEAPCO commander saw the
remains of it from quite a long way up, the kilometre-long structure
leaving quite an impression where it had fallen. A number of smaller
buildings that had stood around it had been crushed in the collapse.

Bots and other machines were milling
around the area, keeping curious citizens at bay, and continuing to
examine the remains, reporting back on the full extent of the damage.
From what Kethlan had been told already, there was little that could
be salvaged. The wreckage would simply need to be cleared away and
the tower rebuilt.

The Talons remained in the air as he
descended, the man lowering the Fer-de-Lance’s cockpit as soon as
he was down, and exiting the fighter. He was not challenged as he
walked towards the rubble, his identity having been confirmed even
before he set foot on the ground. A drone came to greet him.

“Good morning, Commander,” it
started. “I am XS-0041233, XS-0017811’s replacement in the Spirit
system. I will be acting as your primary point of contact from now
on.”

“Give me an update on the status
of the tower,” Kethlan said. “How much can be saved?”

“1.87% of the tower can be
directly reused. 77.32% will need to be recycled before reuse. The
remainder will require longer to sort, separate, and collate before
it can be used in any other project.”

“Employee casualties?” he asked.
He didn’t know why he asked the question. There were no human
workers in that building, hadn’t been for years. He was just making
sure.

“None,” XS-0041233 replied.

“Others?”

“One hundred and forty-seven
bodies have so far been identified. The number is likely to increase
as the clearance work continues. We estimate that there could be
another two hundred bodies or more to come, for a total of over three
hundred and fifty.”

Kethlan nodded. Damn those
mercenaries. “How many of the attacking mercenary ships were
destroyed during the assault on the tower?” he asked the drone.

“None.”

“At all?” Kethlan asked,
incredulously.

“No.”

Kethlan nodded. It really was as he
had already heard. There had never been any need for him to come
here, but he wanted to check this for himself. “Carry on,” he
told the machine.

“Commander.”

Kethlan turned as he heard the voice
behind him, seeing Erik Overlook striding towards him from the
Fer-de-Lance. “Sir?”

Overlook glanced about for a time,
taking in the scene around him. “Quite a mess they made of the
Spire,” he said. He reached into his pocket and extracted a
cigarette, lighting it. “Have you found any of them to talk to,
yet?”

“No,” Kethlan replied. He
glanced in the direction of the drone. “I have just been informed
that not a single one of those that attacked the tower was shot down
in the assault.”

Overlook tapped ash from his
cigarette. “We need to find out what prompted them to attack us so
suddenly,” he said. “The special relationship was faultless.”

“I’m willing to bet that they
somehow found out about Mission 3412 and moved to counter it
immediately,” Kethlan said. “Based on the battle footage that I
reviewed, this was less of a planned, coordinated attack and more
like something driven out of rage and anger. The vessels involved in
the operation were a mixed bag, and not something that I would task
for an operation such as this.”

“They succeeded, though,”
Overlook said, puffing out smoke. “I don’t want you wasting any
more time here on the ground, Commander. The last forty-eight hours
have witnessed the most successful attack against the Corporation in
quite some time. The Resistance may have failed, but we’ve been
handed a reminder that the mercenaries represent a far bigger
problem. They are everywhere, and unlike an underground movement the
mercenary groups are battle-hardened and can be a lot more cunning.”

“My apologies, sir,” Kethlan
said. “I got sidetracked.”

Overlook fixed him with a hard stare
for a time, continuing to take a drag on his cigarette. “Sometimes
I fear that you are
too
human, Kline,” the man said. “It
can be a weakness, you know. A man such as yourself, with the talents
you possess, should give that more consideration.”

“It has its benefits,” Kethlan
said.

“That it does,” Overlook said.
“But the negatives vastly outweigh the positives. I would once
again advise that you look into virtualization. Avatars and simulants
can be used for the rare cases where a physical presence is required
or ...
desirable
.” He indicated himself as he spoke.

“Yes, sir,” Kethlan said. “I
will look into it once this mission is over.”

“See that you do. I checked your
records and noticed that you’ve not even made a mind state backup
for close to two years.” A long blow of smoke from Overlook. He
looked upon the cigarette for a time, watching as it burned slowly
down. “Returning to your mission – the CEO is very concerned. We
may have taken down their primary base of operations, but the
mercenaries are numerous and have ports and stations in every major
star system throughout the known galaxy. The Upper Circle believe
that it is perfectly possible that the so-called Heads of the Family
would have fled the Alpaca Group well before its destruction, most
likely at the first appearance of the
Grand Vizier
.