MILO
Of course he went looking for dad, even though Sam suggested that it was wasted time. He skipped the morning session with Commander Meyer and visited every possible location where dad might be hiding. The Commander had been understanding. As expected, he could not find dad either at home or work. No one had seen him or had any contact with him since he disappeared. He even went to the pubs dad used to spend time in. No bartender or drinking friend had seen him, either. He made his way back to the Final Sight after the failed venture.
-
The knife’s blade went easily into the chanterelles’ soft tissue as he sliced them into finer pieces. Cut onions already sizzled in the pan. This lasagna would be great. His hand terminal chirped. He slipped and the knife came down too fast, stroking his thumb. He breathed, closed his eyes and relaxed. A little more to the left and the sharp blade would have cut off at least the tip of the thumb. Knife put aside, Milo looked at the received message. It was the battle alarm.
“Man battle station? Emergency liftoff?” Milo read from the display.
Sam rounded the corner. “Blue! Time to earn that paycheck. And stove that knife away! Stove all loose objects and shut that off. Now.”
Milo hesitated and swallowed. “Are we going into battle? Here? Are we being attacked, Sam?”
“Hustle! Pirates have attacked a convoy some distance away, we are the reinforcements. Follow me,” Sam said.
Space battle.
Milo secured the knife, killed the power to the stove and threw every pan, utensil and pot he had been using into a locker with their contents still inside. He locked it and followed after Sam through the Final Sight’s length. To the bridge. Docking clamps would be releasing their ship and the already warm reactor flooding juice into the engines. The engines pushed them carefully away from the city until more energy could be fed into them. The drive plumes generated by the engines could scorch the city or any bystanding ship if they didn’t follow protocol. He didn’t feel any additional tug of gravity as the ship accelerated, since the inertia mesh counteracted it. If the mesh failed they would be crushed. Milo could not keep up with Sam, who went ahead, but he knew the way. He pulled back and slowed his pace, there was little to be gained by blacking out.
He arrived at the bridge. Sam had been there for some time and was in discussion with the crew. Leo sat in the pilot’s seat, facing the transparent view wall, and manned its function, Diego sat behind him but turned the other way, towards the Captain. Sam sat centered in the room, on a raised seat with his own consoles but as he spoke with Diego he had moved the displays out of the way. There sat two crewmembers on either side of the room’s slightly curved long walls. Navigation, communication and secondary weapons’ interfaces. Additionally, two more sat beside Leo. Co-pilot and primary ordnance. He knew their faces, but could not recall their names. Interesting that it required this many to man the ship properly. Because of how the shifts were scheduled and the short time he had served on the ship he had not been able to meet everybody yet. He had exchanged words and glances in the corridors from time to time, but nothing more. Not enough time to get to know everybody, but plenty for him to have spent time with the electronics for every station.
“Huge balls,” Sam said. “Having the guts to make a move this close to Au-delà’s arrival.”
Milo walked up and leaned at the navigational officer’s seat. Arrays of information flooded the man’s three screens. A destination was already set and the route plotted. But he could not read and understand the particulates of it. The graphic interface was too advanced, too cluttered and using it effectively required knowledge and training he lacked.
“Milo!” Diego said, flailing with his hands.
He turned away from navigation and seated himself beside the doc. Claire was nowhere to be found, she must be with the reactor and the engineering functions. He strapped in. A display emerged out from the very seat he had taken and unfolded in front of him. Windows popped to life with various input and output information.
“The Commander is furious about the pirates and wants the reinforcements to crack down hard on them,” Sam explained.
Crack down hard on them? What did that mean? Imprisoning them harder? Milo shook his head and canceled a set of windows in his display by swiping across them sideways. Estimated-time-of-arrival. Eighteen minutes until contact. The convoy’s content was listed. Earth goods, some animals, rare gases, exotic liquids and tourists en route to Europe13. What would be the pirates goal? Hostages? Supplies? Or cows and seeds?
“And this close to the city. Goddamn balls on these guys,” Sam said, rubbing his jaw.
“Arseholes,” Diego said. “They must have known the Commander’s reaction or are they so stupid? They are lashing out, they feel violated by how the government is not accepting their want to be independent. Actions invoked by extreme emotions are rarely logical.”
“Precisely on point, Doc,” Sam said. “We will give them the smack, make them sit down. This is the battle plan.”
A new window flew into everyone’s display. It mapped out the convoy ships, marked the pirate vessels, the Europe13’s incoming fleet and their relation to them all.
Sam explained it. “We will engage this side and board the main convoy ship with three other corvettes. To weed out the rats. The remaining fleet and the lent Asian spearheads will hunt down any fleeing ships. No one escapes today.”
The Captain smiled, the man looked forward to the battle. Maybe Diego was right about Sam growing more violent? Could he do something about it?
The window changed as Sam spoke, displaying the plan on the move. “The airlocks will be rigged, they are pirates, not stupid. So normal boarding procedures are a no go.”
“Should I recharge the plasma cutters, Captain?” Claire said. Her face appeared in the displays as she spoke.
“No. Power up my rig. I will breach dirty with the assault team in tow,” Sam said. “No time for doing it pretty, we need to catch all of them.”
Twelve minutes until contact. Some of the smaller ships started moving away from the main convoy ship. Were the rats scurrying? Triangular ships broke off from their fleet and sped off, to chase down the pirates. Asian spearheads looking for prey. Milo swallowed. This was real.
“Always the same. Some flee, some stay,” Sam said, shaking his head. “The lack of organization limits them. The initial hot blood and courage fade quickly when meeting resistance.”
“Captain, you have to agree, is it not harder to catch rats that all run in different directions? Chaos and mayhem are valid strategies,” Diego said. “You know, guerilla fighting. Especially effective when the opposing side has the numbers and power. Hit, flee and slowly cripple the morale.”
Sam coughed. “Correct. We should be watchful of traps. Claire, can we know if they have rigged the reactors?”
“Nominal outputs. The scans would be able to tell if the reactors had been tampered with,” Claire said.
“Why?” Milo asked, hesitant. “Their timing doesn’t make sense. Just like you already said, Sam. And why so close to the city? I cannot grasp their decision making.”
“Ahh, yeah. Better I show you,” Sam said and swiped sideways, a new window flew into their displays. A video feed. Masked men holding guns at the heads of convoy passengers. The video feed cut short. “Do not watch that crap. Attention, they want attention. So they can spread their world views. Send a goddamn message. A higher order of existence bullshit. That governments are wrong and all that,” Sam said. “Pirates rarely attack the convoy routes to these outer cities. They know we will hit back, and hit hard. They are inviting us to act. How nice of them. I will send a goddamn message down their throats.”
Stolen story; please report.
How many lives were at stake? Why would they risk their lives to send a message? There had always been extremists during human history. Maybe this was just the next step. A horrible, sick step. No, these people were terrorists.
“Back to the plan. The dirty breach. Me and the boys will drop off at these points,” Sam said, the window zoomed in and displayed the four locations. “Combat suits and breach charges. They know we are coming, so we have to act quickly.”
This was it, then.
“Where do you want me, Captain?” Milo asked. He had not been presented to their battle protocols before. Which made sense, since he had not seen battle yet. Where did the electrical engineer hide when the brutes duked it out?
Five minutes.
“Blue, you are going to sit tight in that seat and watch the show unfold,” Sam said and unstrapped himself from his seat. “I am going over with the assault team. Claire, are you ready for me?”
Claire’s face displayed on the screens. “Affirmative, Captain. When you arrive.”
“Leo, you have the bridge,” Sam said and stood up. “Keep her in one piece, if you don’t mind?”
“Ayay, Cap’n!” Leo replied.
“Don’t pee your pants, Blue,” Sam said, smiling as he exited the bridge.
What a prick.
The convoy came into view in the transparent wall. Its main starship with clusters of smaller ships, both lingering pirates and those of the convoy fleet. A marvelous sight, really, when you started to think about the weight of all those moving machines. Thousands of tonnes. Not comparable to a Space City, but impressive nonetheless. Leo moved their ship smoothly closer to the main convoy ship.
“Assault team away!” Leo announced, clicking away at his screen. “Milo, take a look at your display!”
A new window flew in his displays. A video feed. Live. From Sam’s perspective with audio and the combat suit’s visual interface. Meaning targeting matrix, weaponry statuses, short range radar and Sam’s vital signs. The audio was full-on Navy Marine jargon. For him it sounded like babble or a foreign language. But for the men that knew it, it carried great value. The phrases were short and precise. No unnecessary chatter to break the soldier’s focus, always moving forward with speed and accuracy.
“Reactor ahead,” Sam mumbled and the feed changed to the vault door, but it was slightly opened. Should that really be open? Milo dried his sweaty hands against his overall. Are the pirates trying to rig it to explode?
Flashes of light, Milo shielded his eyes with his hands.
“Hostiles!” Sam yelled and leapt into the chamber, but didn’t fire the combat suit’s weapons. Why?
Diego must have observed his confused face. “The containment field around the fusion reaction could fail if put against severe stress. Standing a few steps away from a nuclear explosion would not be too healthy.”
Milo nodded.
The combat suit’s motor muscles augmented its pilot way beyond human strength. Milo jumped as Sam slammed the suit’s reinforced gauntlets down upon an unfortunate pirate. Another came from the side and Sam grabbed the man by his face. The gauntlets fingers squeezed, the head’s cranium offered limited resistance against such force. The head ‘popped’. A sudden nausea and Milo emptied his stomach content right on the display.
“Come on. What are you doing?” Diego said.
Leo chuckled. “And you are supposed to be serving in the Navy?”
Milo waved at them as he recovered from the embarrassment. Awkwardly wiping away the lukewarm puke from the display and his clothes.
“Hmm,” Leo mumbled and clicked away on his own screen.
“Define ‘hmm’,” Diego said.
“Hostiles have been neutraliz…,” Sam started.
An explosion. The video feed cut to black, audio died.
“What happened?” Milo asked, clicking on his displays, trying to access the video feed again. But his frantic fingers did nothing to solve the issue.
“Debris field incoming!” Leo said and pulled at the controls. “One of the airlocks exploded.”
The inertia meshes counteracted the sudden force as Leo moved the corvette away from the convoy ship. But Milo followed their change of location through the display.
“Hmm. That is not debris,” Leo said.
“Stop with the ‘hmm’, what do you mean: ‘that is not debris’?” Diego said.
“Pressure loss on deck two!” Leo said. his fingers moving frantically across his screen. “I cannot re-establish comms with the Cap’n and the assault team. But we are being boarded.”
Milo wiped his mouth again, there were still some chunks of puke left. “Being boarded?”
“I will hold the helm, I will try to get the ship closer to the Captain. Repel them, Diego!” Leo said.
The bridge was sealed with its own singular bulkhead door. A loud slam. They turned to the door. A second slam. Someone was trying to breach! A third slam! A crack grew in the metal. They would die. Milo was pulled away from his seat.
“Emergency weapons,” Diego said and pushed him towards the bulkhead door.
Diego opened a locker that stood beside the door. Racked assault rifles. Diego grabbed two and handed one towards him. Milo shook his head. His hands formed into fists and his eyes closed. The shaped water hung in his mind’s eye. Pain and suffering. His. His manifestation hooked and the sweet water flooded into his mouth. Eyes opened. The electrical tendrils raced out from between his fingers, crawling around his hands and arms.
“Alright,” Diego said.
They positioned themselves in front of the cracking bulkhead door. Two metal hands emerged from behind and pulled the crack apart. Diego placed the muzzle of his rifle straight at the hole and fired. But the metal hands didn’t even slow down. The door crashed in. Milo fell backwards and the door slammed down onto the floor besides him. Diego jumped to the side. A combat suit stepped into the bridge, it towered over him. The man inside the suit saw him and the suit’s gauntlets came down on him. He rolled away, the gauntlets crashed into the floor. He raised an opened palm, tendrils merged into each other and the lightning bolt shot forward. But his hand had trembled, the lightning bolt went above the combat suit. He rolled away again, avoiding the combat suit’s gauntlets. Whoever piloted the thing had little experience and evidently no access to the suit’s weapons. The tendrils crackled, multiplied and spread across Milo’s body. He backed away, but stumbled, he was pressed up against a wall. The metallic fist came too fast.
But it slowed down to an almost standstill as it entered his electrical barrier. The tendrils worked against its kinetic force but the gauntlet sank deeper and closer. Tendrils died off one by one and the sweetness slowly retreated. Its metal knuckles connected with him and Milo was shoved back at the wall. The barrier faded. A sharp pain rose from the left side of his face. The barrier must have shed off enough kinetic energy, otherwise the punch would have killed him. But the combat suit raised the gauntlets again. Milo touched the combat suit’s metal leg.
For a brief moment the world slowed down and an explosion of sweetness. His mind darted across the combat suit’s electric grid and networked computers. Every processor, every electronic were at his fingertips as his body drank the electric energy. Suddenly it was so obvious that the suit’s pilot, a pirate, had stolen the suit some months ago and hacked it. But the hack had failed to given him access to its weapons. Milo’s body charged up, his vision tinted blue. But the suit’s output was limited. The suit powered down and the world around him sped up again. He let go of the leg...
...Empowered. The barriers of hesitation and fear obliterated. He, a conduit of excited electrons. Energy rippled through him. His very breath electrifying the air. He gasped at his own capacity. Just like last time.
The combat suit stood inert, it posed no threat with its pilot locked inside. Tendrils danced across his body, a perfect electric barrier. When he had absorbed electric energy from that cable, it felt so long ago, the surge of power had been brief. His body was unable to hold on to the added capacity. He dove into his own mind. There might be a way. The shaped water hung distinct in the darkness with its content flooding out, it would be empty soon. But Milo looked behind it, past it. He searched for the other shapes he had seen. His mind raced and the energy absorbed from the combat suit made it easy. The other shaped deposits of water became distinct when he focused on them, focused on where they should be. There were many more deposits than he had thought. But their contents were not clear, like clean water should be. The closest deposit was colored red. Red as blood. He reached for it, his fingers almost touching…
... Milo’s vision turned double, his breaths desperate and he convulsed. Electricity died off and the sweetness retreated.
“Hey!” Diego yelled, holding a hand to him. “You alright, kid?”
Milo’s hands trembled, he shook his head and Diego helped him up. “Well, maybe.”
“That was something else,” Diego said.
“I agree,” Leo said.
A second combat suit strode inside, its metal boots clanging against the floor. Sam.
“I told you. It is even more marvelous when experienced in the flesh, instead of from a video feed,” Sam said, using his combat suit’s speaker.
“What happened, Sam?” Milo asked.
“It was a trap. Goddamn those pirates. They collapsed the door and trapped us inside the reactor chamber. And at the same time they boarded our ship with a hacked combat suit. Goddamn. They are getting smarter,” Sam explained. “Great that you were able to handle it.”
“Well, some gotta do it,” Milo said and shrugged his shoulders.
“Why do you have puke on your uniform?” Sam replied.
Yelling and cursing. Someone was knocking on metal. They turned towards the inert combat suit, which held the pirate locked inside.
“Throw that scumbag into the brig,” Sam said and stepped out of his combat suit.
Sam pulled a hidden catch on the thigh of the suit, a small hatch clicked open and his good, old coffee thermos popped out.
“What?! I thought you were joking,” Milo said.