Birthright: Battle for the Confederation- Pursuit (9 page)

The surface of Carada Prime was every bit
as grand as Loren had imagined it might be.  As the seat of power for a
respectably sized kingdom, it had to create a certain impression.  There were
castles, resorts, and luxurious living opportunities available everywhere from
snow-capped mountains, to man-made islands, the ocean floors, and soaring
antigrav-supported skyscrapers hundreds of stories tall.  Everything sparkled,
and if it didn't sparkle, that was because it simply gleamed instead.  The
whole planet was shiny, new, and felt like a fairy-tale planet had come to
life.

"This place is for real, huh?"
asked Merritt, a bit awestruck, as they strolled along the immense plaza that
joined several of the government-run manufacturing complexes that they were
touring.  The grass was lush and cut to the perfect height, the trees provided
ample shade and beautiful flowers filled the air with fragrances that calmed
the nerves.

"According to the captain,"
Loren mentioned, "a lot of the industries are wholly or partially owned by
the royal family.  They have no shareholders, no particular profit margin to
meet, so they dump a lot of the income right back into the economy and
infrastructure."

"And I can only imagine the
landscaping bills," Cory said as she gently brushed her hand over a row of
blooming flowers whose petals rippled with iridescence when she touched them.

They'd already been present at one
briefing and all parties were wandering the plaza while the second presentation
was being prepared.  A light lunch would precede it, and Loren saw the doors to
the cafeteria hall open, signifying the meal was served.  Loren, Cory and
Merritt followed the small group of people inside.

They passed through the buffet, served by
white-jacketed stewards on china with gold veins mimicking marble, and wandered
towards the back of the large room where standing-height tables were arranged
in small groups.  From that location they could see onto the floor of the
manufacturing facility through floor-to-ceiling windows.  The Caradans were
proud of their technology, no doubt about that.

"Are you planning to stay for the
afternoon tour?" Loren heard a voice behind him.  He turned to see one of
the scientists who worked in the building, and even recognized her from the
first briefing of the day.

"I heard it would be a rewarding
experience," said Loren with a smile.  Some people needed to practice
their 'diplomat' smile; the one that could be made to appear whenever needed. 
Loren, despite the darker things he'd seen so far during the war, still enjoyed
talking to people and came off as genuine when meeting others.  "I suppose
we haven't been officially introduced."  Loren held out his hand, which
the scientist shook with her own six-fingered one.  "I'm Commander Loren
Stone, Executive Officer of the Confederation ship Avenger," he began. 
"This is Captain Second Rank Corinne Sosus and Commander Merritt
Elder."

"I'm Sera Dom," the woman
replied as she shook hands with Cory and Merritt.  "It's gratifying to
finally meet you."  She caught Loren's puzzled look.  "The rest of
the galaxy knows about the war with the Primans, I assure you.  We've heard
about some of the work Avenger has done, you know.  I suppose we didn’t come by
all the most interesting and daring things, but enough to know your ship and
your crew a bit by reputation."

Loren couldn't entirely stifle a slight
grin.  "Perhaps you could help spread the word to the Primans that it
would be best for them if they just ran away," he replied.

"If only it were that easy," she
said.  "In any case, my team is part of the people who put together the
presentation for your captain.  Hopefully our technology can do some small part
to help you, and I admit selfishly to hoping that it will test well for you in
case we need it for ourselves."

"Oh, the Primans will come calling
sooner or later," Cory said softly. 

Loren saw this as a time to shift the
topic.  "Can I ask you what may be more of an opinion question than
technical?"

Sera looked at him without giving any
emotion away.  "Please."

"It's well known that the Kingdom
has a very neutral stand on the use of artificial intelligence," he began
tenderly, not wanting to scare her off but also needing to show that he wasn't
afraid of the topic.  "You use the most intelligent programming allowed in
the civilized galaxy.  Do you think creating a fully conscious AI would help
with the weapons design over what you've done so far?"

Sera digested that for a second, staring
at the finely crafted cup of stim-caf she carried.  "I admit we wondered
about that for a while," she confessed as she looked back at Loren and his
comrades.  "But other than the fact that we aren't allowed, there wouldn't
seem to be any point in making the weapon conscious.  It's smart enough to
follow an incredibly complex set of algorithms to seek out its target; making
it feel emotion about it, to wonder why the target needed to die, seemed like a
bad idea."

Loren nodded sagely.  "I guess I
never really thought about that side of the technology."  He wanted to
push more, but didn't want to seem obsessed.  "I guess I'm just throwing
ideas at the walls to see what sticks.  We need something to help tip the
scales back towards those of us caught up in the fight; I couldn't help but
wondering if there was a way having access to AI intelligences would
help."

"A valid question," Sera
returned, "but a futile one, I'm afraid.  Just remember there are places
in the galaxy where you might be detained for mentioning such things."

"Of course," Loren demurred. 
"Can't blame a guy for wondering, though, right?"

"On some planets, you can.  Not
here, though."  She pushed back from the table with a smile, leaving her
empty cup behind.  "Would you three care for a quick tour of the line
before the afternoon briefing?"

"We'd be honored," Loren
replied.

The next few hours were interesting in an
academic sense, but to Loren it seemed a waste of time.  They weren't going to
buy any of these weapons, he'd pushed as far as he felt he could with the staff
at the facility, and it was time to go.  Chasing across the galactic core
looking for a mythical band of camera-shy androids was no longer his first
choice of ways to spend his time. 

Finally, they bid their farewells and
headed back up to Avenger, Captain Elco aboard as they shared their ride back
into orbit. 

"Did you find a way to win the war
yet?" Elco asked Loren lightly as he eyed Cory and Merritt in the seats
across from them in the cramped confines of the transport's aft flight deck.

"No," Loren replied glumly. 
"Made a few friends, I suppose.  They're a pretty upbeat and extroverted
bunch, and I pushed pretty far talking up AI as a positive thing, but I guess I
never really expected an android to jump out of a broom closet and congratulate
us on our positive attitude towards them.  I don't think we really accomplished
anything, I'm afraid."

Elco looked at Cory and Merritt. 
"Anything to add?"

"I think the Commander summed it up
nicely," stated Merritt.  "They seem willing to help with what they
can, but nobody offered to show us to android headquarters, either."

Nobody said anything for a minute after
that. 

"I know this is a long shot and
all," Cory began, "but how long are we supposed to do this?  I mean,
trying to develop this kind of intelligence is the sort of operation somebody
like Halley would work months on.  And here we are, just knocking on doors and
saying 'hi'.  Do we think this is going anywhere?"

"A valid concern, that's for
sure," said Elco.  "I give us two more stops on our itinerary and if
nothing develops, I'll contact Admiral Bak and see if he can offer us another
option."

More silence as they watched through the
cockpit doors and out the windshield in front.  The underside of Avenger was
growing larger as they approached and lined up on the port side hangar bay. 
Avenger's armored hull flashed by just above their heads as they cleared the
force field into the hangar.  No sooner had the pilots slid the craft out of
the flying lane than the armored door slid down from above, closing off the
hangar from space.

"Now where to, Captain?" asked
Loren as the four of them strode across the hangar deck towards the Vipers'
ready rooms.

"The Mining League," Elco said
simply.  "It's a loose collection of a half dozen worlds that claims
several solar systems relatively close to each other.  Not really a fully
organized galactic power; they're more of a group of very close trading
partners that still remain relatively independent.  But if you make a deal with
one of them, you better make the same deal with all of them.  We're going there
to have you take a look at a very strong and influential underground AI
support.  AI issues are quite illegal there; one of their planets was almost
completely wiped out long ago by computers gone rogue, and their trading
partners had to basically blockade the entire planet and bombard anything that
was left standing back down to sea level."

Loren just turned to look at the
captain.  "I assume there's a plan for getting access to what it probably
a quite fidgety and nervous bunch of people?"

"Oh yes.  His name is Von.  He's a
SAR operative like our friend Halley."

"Everything is in place,"
Captain Vol finally heard from his subordinate.  It had taken longer that he'd
liked, but getting into the Carada system undetected and finding a suitable
place for the ambush was no mean task.  He'd only allowed himself three ships
for the task; one light and two heavy cruisers.  The rest waited far out beyond
the Caradan system's frontier outposts and listening sites, ready to dash in if
need be but preferably not tipping their presence to the locals if possible. 
They'd watched via long range scans and piggybacked feeds from in-system
traffic control. 

And now they waited. 

Captain Vol had found the perfect place
for an ambush, and it was almost right on Avenger's expected vector if they
were in fact sticking to their itinerary of visiting the Mining League next. 
The Caradans maintained an immense mothball shipyard on the outer reaches of
the system.  Since government and commercial ventures were often controlled by
the same family members, the Monarchy had seen fit to consolidate all long term
repair, salvage and storage to one monstrous facility, out where two dwarf
planets had once orbited each other as they went round the system's sun. 
Immense tractor beams were installed on them, balancing their orbits and in the
process created a sort of semi-stasis field in the space between the
planetoids.  In that gap were tucked hundreds upon hundreds of ships large and
small.  The large-scale field created by the tractors holding the planetoids
together also helped to drastically slow any movement within the area of
coverage.  Ships parked in the facility were also equipped with external
thruster modules which kept them in precise position. 

The facility was monitored by various
sensors and a number of picket ships, though those were easily enough evaded by
Captain Vol's capable crew and his people's superior sensor technology.  Nobody
was going to break into the shipyard and steal anything; even if somebody could
gain access to one of the ships in the field, the powerplants were all either
empty or disabled.  Long before anybody could install one or tow a ship away,
the Monarchy's home fleet would arrive on-scene and deal with the interlopers. 

Luckily, Captain Vol didn't intend to
take anything.  He intended to leave something.  A large debris field, filled
with scraps of what used to be the CSS Avenger.

"Make sure we're well
concealed," he cautioned the officer who'd reported in.  "If the
Confeds
or
system patrols see us, I'll execute you
myself." 

Captain Two-Swords stood alone at the
small docking hatch, watching the warning lights cycle from red to amber to
green.  If only Daemon hadn't been so motivated to tear down the guns.  If only
Confed wasn't engaged in this ridiculous civil war and was patrolling these
systems for pirates like they were supposed to be.  If only his ship was
faster.  If only. 

Locking bolts slid away and the hatch
rolled into a pocket in the bulkhead, revealing three people standing in the
airlock waiting for him. 

A human, Trin and Qualin stood there, all
grinning to various degrees.  He didn't know what he expected a pirate to look
like, but he guessed these three were as typical as anyone else.  They all wore
mismatched clothes; bits of jumpsuits, uniforms, and various utility belts. 
The human was even wearing a stripped-down chest piece from an EVA suit.  The
Trin spoke up, his smooth deep voice unusual to hear from a member of a species
who communicated more by gesture and smell than speech.

"Captain Two-Swords," he began
as his fellows slid to each side while they exited the hatch into the corridor
proper, handguns drawn.  "I hope you've told your crew to be cooperative. 
Heroes have a way of getting themselves and the people around them killed.  We
just want the cargo, but understand that we'll do what it takes to make that
happen.  I hope I'm clear on what that means, yes?"