Angel walked into the cargo hold with her attention focused on reaching the maintenance hatch. She moved against the wall on the starboard side of the hold doors that she had opened via the manual fail safe. When she reached the location where Aeolus had told her the supplies were located she found herself looking at a bare wall of sheet metal. She looked up and saw the supply hatch she was looking for about fifteen feet above her head. “You're kidding me,” she sighed. Aeolus's voice came over the radio in a smooth baritone that sounded almost musical. Angel knew that he could have modulated his voice to sound like any gender and any vocal range, even something in human.
The sentient ship said to its captain, “You are at the hatch, what is wrong?” Angel rolled her eyes.
“Some dumbass engineer designed it for zero gravity access,” she answered. Aeolus was silent. Through the neural-link Angel could tell he was engaged in calculations. “Can you kill the gravity system for the hold with out cargo floating free?”
“It is possible, but it depends on the cargo being secured properly. The experimental cargo is in a sector that my internal sensors can not access due to the damage.” Angel shook her head. It was just like Xenogen to pack in extra material with out any real information except for high clearance officials. The fact that Aeolus was sentient didn't change the fact that he was viewed as just a machine. He wasn't required to have clearance or access. “Captain, target acquired thirty five degrees on the x-axis on your plane, moving towards you at a rate of one meter per minute. Distance undetermined, target is not accelerating at this time,” Aeolus sounded in her head through the neural-link, “Retreat is advisable.”
“Oh hell,” Angel muttered, reaching through the emergency med-access point to draw her pistol free from her suit. She turned and leveled the plasma pistol at where she'd expect a human head to be, “Can you get the damn light on? The suit doesn't give me range here.”
“System failure thirty two on line alpha eight. Illumination is not possible in that hold, captain. Target is showing up as four meters from your position,” Aeolus said through the neural-link, a tone of urgency in his voice, “Repeat, retreat is advisable.”
“Something you should learn about me, Aeolus,” Angel said, “I don't run from the unknown. Kill the gravity switch.”
“System eighty seven on line beta eight off-line. Good luck, Angel.” The moment the gravity simulator system turned off, Angel sighted the access point and jumped. The force of acceleration from her motion was unevenly applied so she rose with a slow drift to the left of where she intended to go. While a part of her said she should try to 'swim' towards her target, Angel pressed the button for the booster system to correct her course. It was contrary to what her body told her to do, but she knew that in zero gravity she'd functionally be flailing in a circle with out anything to provide enough resistance for her to push forward against.
As she reached the maintenance hatch and started the procedure of opening it one handed, a light caught her eye. She looked over to see another emergency suit drifting towards her, occupied with a familiar looking face. One hand holding the maintenance hatch door and the other pointing the plasma pistol at the figure drifting towards her, Angel said, “System eighty seven on line beta eight, engage. Now.” The figure drifiting dropped immediately at thirty two feet per second, per second. As they hit the deck below, Angel watched them lay there stunned. She looked up at the hatch handle she was holding on to. “Why the hell aren't the mag boots standard issue?” Angel muttered.
“Captain, your system indicates that strain is increasing on your left arm. The hatch handle is not designed to be load bearing. I advise disengaging system eighty seven on line beta eight before the handle is damaged.” Angel wrenched her self around with a sharp twist of her whole body. For a brief moment, she pulled herself up against the hull. In those few seconds, she opened the hatch door and watched as the equipment began to fall out. Angel let go of the door as it gave way beneath her weight. “Kick it off,” Angel barked. The gravity abruptly shut off and she pushed herself off of the hull as it did so. As such, she was moving at the rate of gravity towards the deck. She tucked herself into a roll. “On,” she commanded and the figure that was sailing towards the cyborg dropped to the ground moments after Angel landed and came to her feet.
She put a boot into their chest and kicked them to the ground. Behind her, the sealed repair kit clattered to the deck along with the ripped off hatch door. Her plasma pistol was square in between the eyes of what looked to be her long dead lover, Dregan. “Talk or I'll just take your head off,” she said flatly, “You should be dead. I have no problems fixing that.” The Dregan in the plasma suit held their hands up in a universally recognized gesture of surrender.
“I'm unit alpha nine nine seven. My mission is to support the captain of this ship in the event of a plasma breech. I was activated when the emergency systems came on line.” Angel looked down at the cyborg before her. The nine nine seven line were non-combat units. Dregan was a combat unit that had gone rogue long before her. Combat units that went rogue were collected and reconditioned before being placed in another combat unit. They were too expensive to really eliminate. This unit, however, was a cheap clone with half the programming, if it really was a nine nine seven unit.
“Captain,” Aeolus said via the neural-link, “Additional targets incoming.”
“I know you,” the cyborg on the deck said, “You are A.. A.. A..” It stuttered. Angel was half of a mind to drag the cyborg beneath her foot into the main quarters of the ship. Then she saw the other lights of the emergency suits coming.
“It's a trap,” she said, “Good night, sweet prince.” She looked away from the blast of the plasma pistol. It lit up the space in a dramatic flare of light. She could see the others coming towards her from the damaged part of the hold. She reached back and grabbed the gear that had fallen to the ground behind her and ran for the hatchway back to the main quarters of the ship. As she got to them, Angel threw the gear into the corridor and dove through the doors. “Shut it!” she shouted. It didn't matter that Aeolus could hear the thought as it materialized in her mind and was in the midst of executing the command. On the door, she heard the sound of something hitting the metal. Then the blast doors came down and there was total silence except for her breathing.
“What the hell?” Angel demanded.
“I do not understand the question, captain. Please rephrase it.”
“Don't give me that bullshit, Aeolus. What in hell just happened? There were combat units in there. Prior gen combat units.”
“The experimental cargo must have breeched containment,” Aeolus said, “It was delivered by automated systems shortly before your arrival.”
“That was the experimental cargo?” she replied tersely, “A container full of clones of prior gen combat units?”
“The manifest did not list what it was, only that emergency suits had to be supplied in the area where the container was located and that all systems to it had to remain online constantly.”
No comments:
Post a Comment