Spinward Fringe Broadcast 7: Framework (34 page)

“You should see the living space above us.
It’s a large park, with ponds and creeks. The balconies of family
apartments overlook a miniature forest, tamed, but still a
reminder.”

“A reminder?”

“Of home.” Ashley caught herself slipping as
she said it. The answer fit perfectly with who she was pretending
to be, a woman from Earth with rank and experience, but when she
said it she was thinking of the green land she grew up in. Charming
the major was so much easier once she just regarded him as another
person in her way; it was something she learned to do early on. A
warm smile and quiet talk resolved more problems than anything
else. She was lucky they sent a man to meet her - women were more
difficult, and most didn’t like her at first.

“What’s Earth like?” the major asked.

“Is that the entrance up there?” asked
Jake.

Ashley brought up the interior schematic of
the Triton on her comm unit and spun the hologram so she could zoom
in on one side. The hologram marked where the engineering team had
set up a power source for the outer doors well behind them. She
focused in on the room ahead and saw the circular chamber that led
most of the way up through the Botanical Gallery. “That’s it.”
Ashley looked up and saw a narrow door in front of them.

They crossed the space, coming around a set
of pipes, and when Ashley stopped to stand in front of the entrance
a light flashed over her head. Her comm unit buzzed a moment and
when she looked down the interface changed. It looked like some of
the older, frozen wall terminals she’d seen in some of the less
utilized parts of the ship, a Sol Defence interface.

The featureless door lit up, an interface
matching what was on her command and control unit appearing.
“Welcome, Ashley Lamport. Your override level clearance is valid.
Please enter with your reserve officer,” said a gentle male voice.
There was nothing computerized about the sound, but a warm,
fatherly quality that she found surprising and reassuring.

The deck rumbled as the heavy door slowly
rotated so an entrance appeared. The major started to take a step
forward and Ashley squeezed his arm to her side. “I’m sorry,” she
said, unsure of what to say next.

“You’ve seen the ship recognize her and
acknowledge that she has the highest level of access,” Captain
Valent said. “Now it’s time for you and your people to take our
down payment and leave.”

“Before I go,” the major said to Ashley. He
seemed intent on ignoring Jake. “I need to extend my government’s
desire to work with the Triton once she’s back in fighting shape.
Your fighter pilots have been helpful on patrols, and we’re short
on large combat vessels, carriers especially. The Triton would be a
fantastic asset if you were to coordinate with us. We’re willing to
offer you assistance in repairs for a large discount.”

“I’m sure we might be able to negotiate
something,” Jake said.

“I have to hear it from her,” the major
said.

There was an earnestness in his pale face
that begged her to promise him more than she had a right to, but
she repeated her captain’s words instead. “We’ll negotiate
something.”

“Thank you,” the major said. “We’ll make our
own way out.”

Everyone watched silently as the major and
his squad left. That was it, all they had to do to get the Triton
back. It was their ship again. Ashley was so relieved, so overjoyed
that it wasn’t nearly as hard a fight as she’d expected, that she
was on the verge of weeping.

“I think she’s waiting,” Jake said,
gesturing towards the door.

Ashley looked to the chamber door. Inside
was a warmly lit compartment with a spiral staircase leading up in
the centre. “I think it’s a he,” she said, taking a step
forward.

Jake was about to fall in step beside her
when she looked over her shoulder and made eye contact with
Minh-Chu. He smiled at her encouragingly and nodded. She wished she
was inviting him inside instead, but it would be for selfish
reasons.

“Ash?” Jake asked as she stopped.

She looked to him and shook her head. It
took all the bravery she could muster to tell her captain, the man
who’d freed her, that it wouldn’t be him in command of the Triton.
“I’m taking Oz.”

He looked surprised for a moment then put
his hand on her shoulder. “Good.” Jake turned towards the crowd of
people behind them. “You’re up, Oz.”

Terry Ozark McPatrick stepped forward and
Ashley took his big hand in hers. “He’s yours if you want him. I
mean, I’m picking you to be in charge.”

“I’ll rebuild him, better than ever,” Oz
said.

They entered the room together, barely
fitting through the entryway side by side. The heavy chamber door
slid closed behind them.

* * *

“There! A main processing and distribution
node!” Liam Grady shouted as they ran down the hallway. Ayan’s
lungs were burning. The darkened corridors seemed endless, and she
was sure they’d run through half the ship and leapt up half the
emergency ladders to get where they were going.

An alert sounded in her headgear the moment
they all made it around the corner. Her combat shields activated,
and she drew her sidearm by reflex. Targeting systems in her heads
up display highlighted five mini-turrets, the size of her palm,
hovering at head level above the deck ahead in red.

“Down! Everyone down!” she cried. Many of
them were already dropping to the deck around her, their own combat
systems warning them of the danger. The free floating turret traps
fired as she took aim with the assistance of her suit. Several
shots of the accelerated molten medium the traps fired peppered her
energy shielding.

Her training prevailed, and she took several
shots at the nearest hovering target, missing several times before
finally obliterating it. Shooting while out of breath was
difficult, even with her suit trying to steady her hand. She missed
most of the time. The other soldiers destroyed the rest of the
mini-turrets, and the moment they stopped firing another alert
appeared on her heads up display. Someone dropped down from the
ceiling behind them.

Ayan turned in time to see a man in a simple
black vacsuit standing on top of Laura Everin. He swept a thick
bladed nanosword down towards her head. The rasping edge hesitated
for a moment as it fought to break through her technician’s suit.
The weapon passed down the middle of her head then out through the
neck, jerking, sputtering and ripping as it ended her life.

Ayan didn’t even realize she’d raised her
sidearm until she was firing. Her shots caught Laura’s killer full
in the chest, the thermalitic rounds burning at the protective
layer of the man’s vacsuit.

It didn’t stop him. He swept his blade at
the most important technicians within reach as several more shots
struck his legs and chest, finally breaking through his vacsuit. He
collapsed to the deck and Liam Grady rushed to the man’s side.

Ayan’s shots sparked and burned violently,
still trying to break through the man’s dark suit. He retracted his
headgear; one side of his face was badly burned. She had to step
over several bodies to get to him, and she stopped when she was
almost standing over his ruined body.

“Why?” Liam asked. “Why kill her? Why kill
anyone?”

“Citadel needs Triton destroyed. Had to
damage your capacity to repair her, to learn,” Larry struggled.
“Had to…” his eyes lost focus for a moment before he went on. “Had
to try to stop you. Didn’t want to, but they’d know. My masters
would know, and they would send more.”

“Why?” Ayan asked, gripping the sidearm at
her side. The question had already been asked, but it was all she
could say.

Larry looked up at her, the last shots that
she’d landed were about to burn through the vacsuit to his chest.
“Born to fight,” he said.

His eyes rolled back as he convulsed for a
moment and died.

“He’s not wearing his command unit, there’s
no emergency assistance built into his vacsuit,” Liam Grady said.
“He wanted to die.”

“Treat the wounded,” Ayan said coldly. “And
fix this ship.” She watched as Liam gently laid Larry’s head down
on the deck. No one was moving. “Now!” she shouted, sounding as
harsh as Richard Kane, the most extreme drill instructor she’d ever
known.

* * *

“Comms are blocked in here,” Oz said.

“I’m pretty sure we can make a call from the
computer core if we have to,” Ashley said as she led Oz up the
stairs to a pillar surrounded by a band of polished metal thicker
than her arm. The platform around them was made of the same
transparent metal as the deck of the bridge, so many levels above,
so many frames forward. The finish was slightly smoky, with flecks
of dark red. Comfortable-looking brown sofa-like seating ringed the
edges of the platform.

The walls around them were coming to life
with images from the local Stellarnet. News about the Carthans,
Rega Gain system, and several of the crewmembers who had come
aboard drifted across, up and down. Video of Ayan negotiating with
the Carthans, of Jake executing the people who attempted to capture
him, of Ashley in the hallways of the Triton and of Oz on the
bridge eventually became the focus. The rest of the crew were
imaged smaller between, such as Finn and Agameg who were celebrated
in replays of them making repairs and installing the
hypertransmitter. There were so many others, including Ramirez, who
died fighting for the ship, Shamus Frost, Stephanie Vega, and Laura
Everin.

“Hello?” Ashley asked. Her voice seemed
small in the tall space.

“You choose a soldier and proven leader of
men to assume command,” said the strong, calm male voice. “Someone
you would choose as your own protector.”

Ashley looked at Oz, who still seemed a
little surprised. “I haven’t thought of it that way, but yeah, if I
needed a bodyguard or a big brother, I’d pick him.”

“Thank you, Ashley,” Oz said. “There are a
lot of other people who would be just as good for this. Liam, Jake,
or Ayan?”

He was speaking to her very politely, which
was a bad sign to her. Ashley was becoming even more nervous than
before at the thought that Oz might actually argue with her
decision; the thought had never occurred to her. “Chief Grady
didn’t even tell me I could choose someone, so he probably doesn’t
want it. Captain already has a ship and I think he’s bustin’ to get
flying, and Ayan has so much to do already. I think she’s amazing,
but how much can she do?” she looked to the video playback of Ayan
as she walked with Laura, Jason, Liam, and several soldiers. It was
footage from an outdoor causeway on Greydock. Ashley recognized it
immediately; the local Stellarnet seemed to love taking footage of
the entire Triton crew, and often focused on Ayan or Liam Grady.
Most of the videos focused in on Liam and Ayan lingered on times
when they were standing close together, something Ashley hadn’t had
the opportunity to notice before. “Maybe they’re already busy doing
what they should be.”

“While I’m managing security and logistics
for a shanty settlement,” Oz said, nodding. “Thank you, Ashley.
You're right, this is where I want to be.”

“Guess I had weeks to think about it,”
Ashley said with a shrug. “Only I don’t think I knew I was thinking
about it then.”

All the images surrounding them disappeared.
For a moment the room was a dim yellow hue, they could barely see.
A large holographic image appeared between them and the thick
pillar in the middle of the room. Flashes of Ashley at the helm, in
the Oota Galoona lounge dancing, spending time with crewmembers,
reading training material, and doing a dance of joy after finishing
her pilot’s qualifications for the fighters and drop ships aboard
the Triton. “I have finished examining your time aboard and I see
caring, perhaps an over-abundance of emotion, intelligence and so
much potential. I understand why Citadel’s representative gave you
a backup override level code.”

The images were slowly replaced with
holograms of Oz. The first featured him standing at the main
terminal in the Flight Operations Centre beneath the main bridge.
That image lingered as if it meant more to the Triton than others,
then it faded into a more light hearted recording of Oz carrying
several beverages onto the bridge, followed by several different
instances of him working with crewmembers and spending the little
leisure time he had with friends. Another image that lingered
featured Jake, Minh, and Oz in one of the waiting rooms outside the
large sickbay.

“Reason, efficiency, empathy, and experience
are only the beginning with you, Terry Ozark McPatrick,” said the
Triton. “That would be enough, but then there’s this.”

The lighting in the room turned red and
flashes of Oz leading crewmembers in violent firefights across the
ship surrounded them. Ashley knew combat was horrible, but she’d
never seen such a waste of humanity. Oz didn’t just command, he
killed with rifle, sidearm, blade, and by hand with cold
efficiency. “I’m not proud of that, but it had to be done,” Oz
said.

All the images disappeared and one dominated
the space in the middle of the room. His armour was shot up and Oz
was bleeding, sitting against the wall surrounded by the fallen.
Another man in foreign armour knelt down, his weapon at the ready,
and looked into his eyes. Oz’s hood withdrew into his shoulders. He
was smiling, despite the trickle of blood escaping from the corner
of his mouth.

The recording of Oz slowly raised his right
hand and pointed at his enemy. “What are you fighting for?” Oz
rasped.

The enemy commander hesitated. “Duty,” he
replied.

Oz’s head floundered a little, perhaps
thanks to an attempt at a nod, then said, “My crew.” He paused for
a laboured breath. “My home.” The holographic version of him
struggled for a moment longer. His breath sounded wet.