From the command chair on the
bridge of Saving Grace, Evgeny
finished viewing the key records Matilda had provided him,. She had included a summary
timeline of events from the ship’s perspective.
His gut roiled with nausea from multiple causes. He was hungry and thirsty, but he would need
some time before he could eat. He was
furiously angry, but thanks to Matilda, there was no one he could vent that
anger upon. He was devastated with
grief. Everyone was gone, everyone
except himself, Mikala, Wallace, and the Mauraug. There might be a few more scattered survivors,
but the whole of New Gethsemane was deceased.
The crew of the salvager had
confirmed: minimal heat signatures, no independent movement, no signs of respiration. They had even checked the mines. Unless Evgeny’s family had somehow
transported themselves a hundred kilometers away from the settlement in the
moments between their last distress hail and the landing of the Apostate bombs,
they were dead. They were dead. He tried to let that fact sink in and deaden
his nerves.
Matilda gave him as much time as
they could spare to process and reconcile his troubles. That time amounted to only a few additional
minutes. She had to interrupt to notify
him that the Mauraug and Mikala – but not Wallace – were boarding the
ship. She could keep them waiting in the
cargo bay, but not indefinitely.
She also advised Evgeny that she
had been impersonating him and detailed the terms of ‘their’ ultimatum. Evgeny accepted her improvisation. His approval was unsurprising. A well-designed A.I., having grown up with a
User from childhood onward, could easily anticipate their preferences and
substitute for them without presuming too much.
If anything, Matilda had handled the situation more adroitly than Evgeny
might have, given the circumstances.
It did frustrate Evgeny that
Wallace chose to remain planetside.
Again, no surprise in retrospect.
Everyone aboard was taking a dangerous
chance. It was entirely likely that all of them
would be destroyed or captured as hijackers. Still, taking that risk was better than trusting to the
mercies of other mercenaries or the pathetic security of the absentee
Collective. Evgeny planned to take
advantage of this opportunity.
He hadn’t yet decided what form his action would take, but he would act.
To achieve anything with that
action, he would need help. Matilda
could operate a star ship herself, and maybe even guide him through physical
operations like maintenance, but eventually, more biological crew would be necessary. For one thing, a ship this size with only one
crewman would draw unwanted attention.
For another, they might need multiple bodies for repairs, for sapient
interaction, or for expertise Matilda lacked.
For example, they needed to become
inconspicuous. A salvager with a mixed
Human-Mauraug crew wasn’t all that strange.
With a few modifications, they could make the brick-like hulk look like
a whole different ship. Ideally, they
could borrow the clearances of the original Saving Grace, at least until it was widely reported as stolen.
Evgeny regretted that, both to be unremarkable and to retain a Mauraug crew, the
ship would have to be removed from Matilda’s control. Worse, if he was to have any hope of securing
the Mauraug’s loyalties, he had to continue the fiction of his A.I.’s demise. Matilda had already anticipated this
necessity. Within minutes, she would
simultaneously unlock the cargo bay door and place herself in indefinite
dormancy, passing control of ship’s functions back to the original systems. Still, those systems were modified to respond
only to Evgeny until he granted permission otherwise. Even after he granted access to chosen
individuals, he could still override them with his own superior codes. Though Matilda could not actively assist
Evgeny, she had handed him all the power she had wrested for herself.
The timing of their switch-over was
not left to Evgeny’s discretion. Matilda
intercepted a message transmitted from near the ruins of New Gethsemane,
addressed to a ship circling in Locust IV’s upper atmosphere. Captain Mendoza was signaling distress to the
Great Family passenger liner, Vlluti. If Saving
Grace did not depart in the next few minutes, it could be impeded or
trailed by the other ship. Worse, now
that the local, private ships were alerted, military ships would accelerate efforts to reach the system in time to
intercept. They needed to leave, and before the ship left the surface, they needed a crew in place. No more time could be spared.
Evgeny was just beginning to mourn
his parents. Now he had to bid his best
friend goodbye. Matilda was practically
his sister, his younger but brilliant sister.
He told himself it wasn’t permanent.
Someday, when his labors were done, they would be reunited. A very specific input would awaken Matilda from her deep, invisible slumber. Until then, they would be totally
separated. The Mauraug would kill her
if they knew she was aboard. Even if not, they would
never trust him if they found out. They
would never follow him.
Hell, they still might not. With great effort, Evgeny gave the word:
“Nasvidenje, Matilda.”
“Hoo roo, Evgeny.”
********************************************************************
In the cargo bay of Saving Grace, the volunteer crew waited uneasily. After they had climbed
aboard, the ramp closed behind them, rendering them effectively
imprisoned. Gaalet, Karech, and Voshtig
had already begun discussing options for disabling or detaching the hatchway
door leading deeper into the ship.
Soloth and Suufit held a lively debate in hushed whispers, more
visible than audible due to its gestural punctuations. These groupings left Luuboh and Mikala standing apart,
glancing awkwardly at one another.
These interactions were interrupted
by the unlocking click of the entry door.
Every gaze was drawn in that direction.
Mikala was first to move, but was preempted by Soloth, who had been closer
and moved into her path. She had to
watch the Mauraug’s cybernetically-enhanced back flex as it pulled open the
hatch and stepped through. Close behind
it came its three loyal followers.
Mikala was able to enter behind them and just ahead of the recalcitrant
Suufit. Luuboh hung back, perhaps torn
on the value of being left behind, alone.
Evgeny’s voice came to them through
the speakers of an intercom system: “Come up to the bridge, please. There is another ship on its way to our
location and I’d like to lift off before they get here. It will be easier to move with all hands on
deck. Take the hall fore and come up the
ladder two decks.”
His directions were almost
superfluous; the ship’s halls were clearly labeled for navigation. Plus, any sapient familiar with ship design
could probably guess where the bridge was placed. Still, it saved them some time to have a
confirmed route, and it was reassuring to be invited up rather than left to
their own choices.
The group still took a few minutes to assemble on the bridge. Evgeny
watched them enter from his chosen perch: the central captain’s chair, placed
like a throne on a raised platform at the back of the room, directly right of
the entrance hatch. The others filed in and
spread out through the area, looking over the various workstations. Gaalet stopped before the
communications panel and impulsively pressed several buttons, scrunching its
face in irritation when the commands produced no effect.
“I have locked all ship systems,”
Evgeny said in Mauraug, looking first at Gaalet but then turning to face Soloth. “I will release access based on individual
expertise and agreed duties. We will
share this ship, but I am in charge.”
“Why?” Soloth asked in response. Suufit and Voshtig grunted agreement. The three senior Mauraug stood in defiant
poses. Suufit, Karech, and Gaalet had
weapons still drawn, though the latter remained more interested in the ship’s
technology than its politics. Soloth’s
gun was still holstered, but it hardly needed firearms to be deadly at such close
range.
Evgeny set his jaw, but did not
appear otherwise intimidated as he answered, “Because I took this ship, and you
didn’t. Because I have its command
codes, and you don’t. Because you
underestimated my value, and I won’t make that mistake. I could have left you behind and left alone,
but that doesn’t help any of us. You
chose to come aboard, on my terms, for the same reason I invited you: we have
things we want to accomplish. Find the
Apostates and avenge our people. Make
sure the Collective doesn’t bury the truth.
Hell, just stop accepting the fate other people dictate for us. If that’s not good enough, if you want out,
say so. You can leave and face whatever
justice or charity you find out there.
Trust me, it won’t be much.”
He paused to let the audience
absorb his words. Soloth did appear to
be giving his arguments some consideration. Voshtig looked unhappy, staring at Evgeny
with clear hostility.
Suufit, instead, retorted right
away, “Stay and submit or go and submit?
I say there is a third choice: stay and unseat you, ‘captain’. You are out-numbered, out-armed, and out-classed. You are not a leader. You squandered your stolen Dominance and
created our current problems. Step down
and let me fix your mistakes. Give me the
command codes. Your alternative is to
suffer until you submit.”
Evgeny and Mikala exchanged a look
that implied shared aggravation with all things Mauraug. She began what she hoped was a casual
movement toward the opposite side of the bridge, placing her back to the
forward wall. Now, four Mauraug stood in
the room’s center, facing Evgeny, while Mikala, Gaalet, and Luuboh were spread
to its outer edges.
Evgeny gave Suufit an indulgent
look before rebutting: “No. The command
codes are my claim to Dominance. I won
them. I will not release them. If you threaten
me again, I can disable this ship or even destroy it. Saving
Grace will serve me or no one else.
I would choose death – mine and yours – over submission, to you, to the
scavengers, or to the Collective.”
Suufit fleered its lips in a
sneer. It mocked, “You submitted before,
rather than die. You will do so
again.” It spoke over its shoulder to
the other Mauraug: “Take the Human.”
Gaalet and Karech failed to react,
either ignoring Suufit’s order or hesitating to obey. Voshtig eagerly drew its short sword and
stepped forward. Its attempt
to intimidate backfired. By advancing
with ominous slowness, it allowed time for Mikala to react. The underestimated Human closed the short
distance between them in three long steps.
She dropped to a long, leaning
crouch and extended one leg in an arc parallel to the floor. The power behind that sweep was evident when
it made contact with Voshtig’s legs and brought them sliding backward. The top-heavy simian fell forward, twisting
to avoid injuring itself on its own blade.
Mikala did not pause but rose
smoothly as her first target fell. She next struck
upwards at Karech’s weapon arm with an extended fist. While not strong enough to disable a Mauraug,
her strike caught it in a sensitive spot and forced it to drop its
firearm.
Startled at first, Suufit finally
had time to raise its own flechette thrower.
Evgeny stood, ready to throw himself at the giant Mauraug to prevent it
from shooting Mikala. He knew he would
be too late if Suufit fired immediately.
Instead, Soloth interfered,
stepping forward to place itself between Suufit and Mikala. This unexpected move gave Suufit pause, and
it held its fire. Mikala and Karech both
dove for the latter's dropped weapon. Closer and
faster, she won the draw and turned the gun – a small plasma thrower – on its
former holder. Voshtig struggled to rise
without releasing its sword, a slow but evident threat.
Evgeny also realized, with some
confusion, that Gaalet, the seemingly oblivious engineer, had bestirred itself
to turn around and was now pointing its much larger plasma rifle... at
Suufit. It had not spoken or otherwise
inserted itself into the situation, but it appeared ready to kill its former
superior if necessary.
The internal relationships within
even a small society of Mauraug were evidently more complex than Evgeny
assumed. Deciphering the cultural
triggers involved here would take time he couldn’t spare. At the moment, at least, a few undercurrents
had flowed in his favor.
Soloth finally spoke, facing Suufit
but addressing its remarks to the group: “I
accept captain Lerner’s terms. I also
assert that I am second in Dominance beneath it. As such, I reserve right of challenge to
myself and oppose any other threats to its command. If you have a problem, direct it to me.”
Soloth and Suufit stared one
another down for three long seconds.
Mikala held Karech’s gun on him, keeping a wary eye on the nearby
Voshtig. Gaalet kept its rifle similarly
trained on Suufit. Luuboh, who had been
edging toward the bridge’s exit, stood still and silent.
Evgeny finally realized they were
waiting on him to break the standoff. “I
accept Soloth bash’Soloth as second in Dominance. It will hold a set of subordinate codes to
the ship and deliver orders to the crew on my behalf.” He recognized the need for compromise. The Mauraug might resist him as their direct
master, but could accept Soloth as a competent surrogate. As long as he and Soloth were in accord, he
would have the former leader’s support.
It would therefore have indirect control over the orders he chose. It was an arrangement they could work with,
for now.
Suufit, noticing the tide turning
against it, finally relented. It lowered
its gun and its eyes from Soloth. Gaalet
lowered its own weapon in response, and Mikala started to take her aim off of
Karech. Everyone seemed to be releasing
tension, giving their respective versions of a sigh of relief.
Voshtig disrupted the mood with
sudden violence. It swung its short blade
at Mikala, who twisted out of the way, forced to draw back her arms to avoid injury. She jumped backward as Voshtig charged forward.
The rogue
Mauraug now had a clear path to its true target: Soloth’s back.
It seized upon a rare
opportunity to bypass the armored cybernetic spine. Suufit did not react, to give a warning, to
aim its weapon, or to push Soloth out of the way. Evgeny did shout, but belatedly. Gaalet was similarly slow to react.
Two
actions occurred simultaneously. Voshtig
plunged its blade down, shouting, “Die, Traitor!" It punctured Soloth below its
shoulder blade, just beside the gleaming contour of the plate covering that
segment of vertebra. The wound was
obviously agonizing but not fatal, since Soloth roared and spun around,
wrenching the sword out of Voshtig’s grasp.
Its dark blood oozed and spattered the floor as it turned.
At the
same time, Mikala lowered and aimed Karech’s
plasma thrower. She fired as Voshtig
struck. A small but expanding sphere of
superheated matter streaked across the small distance to strike Voshtig in its
ribs, at the center of mass. The
projectile burned itself out as it vaporized hair, skin, flesh, lung tissue and body fluids. Fortunately for Karech, standing at the victim’s
opposite side, the plasma bursts were calibrated to expend themselves before
penetrating an organic target. It had
done itself a service by setting the weapon to an appropriate level for
close-quarters use.
Voshtig
was not able to protest its injury. If
anything, it looked confused as it fell onto its face, gasping without breath. Its limbs shuddered as its nervous
system attempted to remedy a sudden lack of respiration.
Before
the body had stilled, Evgeny was barking orders, alternating between Mauraug
and the colonists' Terran dialect.
“Enough! We have no more time to
waste. Any other grudges can wait until the next port. Suufit, take navigation, prepare
us to lift. Karech, get to weapons, see
what we have. Gaalet, get down to
engineering. I want a warning if any
systems aren’t ready for use. Mikala, go
to comms. Make sure we give the right
clearances… use what you know to convince everyone that the situation is
normal, no reason for alarm. Luuboh, see
to Soloth. Get it to medical if
necessary and get that sword out. Let’s
GO.”
His
words took varying amounts of time to sink in for each listener, but one by one
– first Gaalet, then Karech, then Mikala, then Luuboh, and finally Suufit –
each sapient moved as bidden. Evgeny
busied himself transmitting authorization codes to each station, opening up the
specific systems to their permitted uses.
Soloth finally consented to leave the room, but refused Luuboh’s offer
of support or even a hand to stanch the steady bleeding from its back. Evgeny could hear Soloth mutter something
about ‘provincial heretics’ as it stumbled though the hatchway.
Seeing
Evgeny’s warnings verified by scanner data, Suufit wasted little time learning the navigational controls. It deciphered enough to plot a course out of atmosphere and onto
a path leaving Locust System. Without
prompting, it initiated liftoff, sending a tremor through the ship as she
struggled to adjust for the irregularities of wind currents. Karech was equally engaged, sending the
occasional summary message to Evgeny’s command console as it confirmed access
to several energy projectors, ballistic and magnetic projectile throwers, and a
moderately useful deflection system among the ship’s armaments. For a basic salvager, Saving Grace was actually a bit over-armed; Evgeny expected to find at least one log record where the captain had convinced a ‘derelict’ ship
that it was dead and not merely crippled.
Too bad forensic science for starship homicide was a rare profession. There was rarely much of a corpse
to study, between explosive distribution of matter in space and the scavengers
tearing apart any remnants they found.
Evgeny
hoped that detection would prove similarly lax when a ship involuntarily
changed hands. They had the original
registry codes for Saving Grace,
thanks to Matilda. Those would work for
a time, until the distribution of news caught up with them. From then on, the ship would play a game of
bluff and disguise, stealing or forging codes, or else resupplying at ports
where Collective registry didn’t matter much.
Mikala had already admitted that
she would be an asset in that area. Evgeny
didn’t know how far he could trust her cooperation. That was true for every sapient aboard, to be
fair, but Mikala didn’t seem driven by personal goals the way he, Soloth, and
Luuboh were. Evgeny had been totally
honest about his purposes for the ship.
He had correctly wagered that Soloth also wanted to put the colony and
the Collective far behind. He had
offered Luuboh a better deal than it had ever received before.
Possibly, Mikala had been working for the Terran
government. She might still be considered on the job. Evgeny had dangled the offer of
information before her, along with action against mass murderers.
Hopefully, that was enough, and she would forbear any attempts to
disable or arrest Evgeny or the Mauraug until their work of vengeance was done.
Regardless of the motivation, they
were rogues. Renegades. Pirates.
If Mikala was still licensed, did that make them privateers? It wouldn’t matter to most of the
Collective. They had stolen a ship, no
matter the circumstances, killed one of her crew and marooned the rest. The abuses of Evgeny’s A.I. were a tertiary
offense compared to the first two crimes.
Unless they were fortunate enough to find legitimate work – salvage was
most poetically likely – they would have to commit further thefts to stay in
operation.
Evgeny groaned as he digested the
weight of his situation and considered the choices left to him. He already missed Matilda’s advice. Awakening her was an option rendered
impossible by circumstances. Surrendering
to the ‘authorities’ was another. What
authorities? Even if someone properly
authoritative were present in-system, Evgeny would defy them anyway. The Collective lacked the will to act. It lacked the courage of its convictions. Evgeny felt
righteous, a feeling amplified by his youth.
Toggling the main comm system,
Evgeny announced for all to hear (including Soloth and Luuboh in medical, wherever
that was). He spoke in familiar trade
Terran and let the ship’s monitors handle the translation where necessary.
“To let you know what to expect,
here are my plans: We have a hold full of cargo, obtained by questionable
means. We’re going to sell any of it
that we can’t use. With the profits, I
want this ship upgraded, outfitted, and disguised so that we can stay in
operation. Then, we do some research:
check for reports, come back and search this region, and otherwise do whatever
is necessary to find the Apostates responsible for our losses. Then, we go punish them. If we find out who gave the orders to abandon
our homes to the mercies of terrorists… well, then, we have another enemy to
deal with.”
He paused, less certain now how to
continue. “After that… we probably won’t
have much latitude left. We’ll probably
be notorious criminals. It’s up to you
how long afterward you want to stay on.
Try to desert before the Apostates are dealt with, and you’ll be
suspected of betrayal and dealt with like Voshtig bash’Kenet. Once that goal is completed, we may all need to scatter
and find new lives. I promise to help
you there with any assets we pick up along the way.”
“We’re leaving,” he continued, “leaving
Locust IV, leaving our old lives, and leaving the control of the
Collective. Not just leaving,
escaping. I want you to see me, and this
ship, as your real escape from tragedy.
As refugees, we’d be the objects of pity and charity, the recipients of
condolences and regrets. As
escapees, we will be feared… and perhaps privately, respected and cheered on.”
He went on, suddenly inspired: “We
didn’t need to be saved. We needed to be helped, back when it mattered.
They called this ship Saving Grace. Fuck that.
Now it’s called Scape Grace. That phrase comes from an even older Terran
language. It’s a way to say sinner or villain, someone who avoids the grace of God. We don’t need their grace, their
blessing, their late-coming largesse. We
escaped it. And if that makes us
criminals, then I’m proud to break free.”
As if seizing upon the dramatic
moment, the re-christened ship tore loose from the gravity of Locust IV and
entered vacuum. Aiming just left of the
eye of Ra, she plunged toward the spatial deformation created by the star’s
mass and entered hyperspace. At the next
system nearby, they would bury the dead and sell their looted grave goods. With those funds, Scape Grace would truly be reborn.
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