SUN Gilgamesh

Meridian System, Hyades Star Cluster

The Fortuna docked with the Gilgamesh fourteen days later, local time, in the shadow of a moon orbiting Meridian III. The Gilgamesh was an utter monster of a star ship. It was over six kilometers long and boasted a complement of ten thousand crewmen. If Artemis remembered the data packet right, the ship was a Veritas-class battlecarrier- a capital ship equipped with a hangar large enough to ferry a small fleet in its berth. But it wasn’t a dedicated carrier, no. Gilgamesh also had enough weapons to slag a moon. Hence, battlecarrier.

Artemis didn’t know what you were supposed to wear to meet with a vice admiral. She hadn’t gone to a formal event in…decades, really. She’d lost all the ‘polite society’ training of her youth on Praxopero; burned it out of her head with a blowtorch after fifty years as a spacer mercenary.

Hell, it probably wasn’t worth worrying about because she didn’t own anything worth wearing to such a meeting. So instead she ironed out her flight suit and tossed a leather jacket over the top to cover the less-than-professional combat patches. The dark green of the flight suit used to pair well with her hair when it was still mostly red. Now it was a frizzy mass of gray.

She had to leave her sidearm back on the ship, naturally. Gilgamesh was a Union Navy vessel and civilians carrying weapons through its corridors would have raised some alarms.

Artemis was escorted up to Vice Admiral Song’s office in the command tower, just one stop below the bridge. Rem was only a few steps behind her. Artemis had invited her to attend knowing she and Rem would be the proverbial ‘boots on the ground’ for this OP. It was only right she was appraised of the full tactical situation.

Though she’d never admit it, Artemis was also apprehensive to go alone.

Their marine escorts posted themselves up on either side of the vice admiral’s door and gestured for the two to enter. Artemis led the way through the automatic pneumatic doors. The office was spacious, especially for something on a warship. Electronic photo frames on the walls cycled through paintings. They seemed to be historical in nature, made in the same ‘classical’ style and played in chronological order. There was the sack of Rome, signing of the magna carta, surrender of the Nazis and the founding of the United Nations.

That was all ancient history. More recent was the launching of the first AI-pilot wayfinder probes, which made humanity’s expansion into the stars a viable strategy instead of science fiction.There was also the unveiling of the first exoframe: it was a rather underwhelming piece of machinery compared to the gods of war that modern exoframes were, but for its time? It must’ve been awe-inspiring. Over two stories tall and walking on legs, upright like a man instead of treading along the ground like its predecessor, the main battle tank.

Then there was the Unification War. That had its own series of paintings instead of just being one snapshot in time. It made sense, given it was the most devastating loss of life humanity had ever suffered as a species. And it was only a few generations ago. Artemis’s own grandfather had fought in the Unification War. She vividly remembered his funeral, when they lowered his coffin into the dirt, draped in the wrong flag: not the blue, white and gold of the Federation, but the red and black star and crossed swords of Thedes. That flag had killed a hundred million of her fellow countrymen. It made a chill creep up her spine just to see it again.

“Welcome.” Vice Admiral Song called from behind his sleek, steel desk, pulling her away from the past and back into the present.

“It's nice to finally meet you, sir.” Artemis smiled, trying to make it smooth and natural. She felt like she was failing. But if her expression reflected at all how she felt inside, Song didn’t react to it. He maintained a professional neutrality one could only expect from a man of his position. “I am Captain Artemis Corrigan of the Vox Fortuna, as you know. And this is Lieutenant Rem Landaris. She'll be my backup planetside.”

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Song looked between the two of them for several long moments before glancing away to stare into open space. It was a telltale sign that he was accessing information on his neurodeck. To him, he’d be looking at words and images scrolling across his vision- similar to a pilot’s Heads Up Display.

“Your records indicated you had four total exoframes on your roster. I took this into account when I hired you for this mission.” Song turned his eyes pointedly back toward Artemis.

She held his gaze. “We decided to part ways with our other two pilots over operational differences. Landaris and I are more than capable of completing the task you laid out for us.”

As she spoke, Artemis began to dig through the back of her mind for the mission file she’d received from Gilgamesh several months prior. It wasn’t the typical open security contract she was used to. Song had sought her out specifically, likely thanks to a recommendation from one of his subordinates. There were thousands of other private security companies in the galaxy just like hers. Most had more manpower, money and resources than her people. She truthfully had no idea why Vox Fortuna was the admiral’s first choice.

The contract was for a single operation, maximum risk with no outside assistance from the Gilgamesh or any other Union fleet assets. They were headed down to Meridian III to destroy the replicant machine mind codenamed ‘Oliver.’ Artemis assumed there was some kind of dispute between Union authorities and the megacorp, VKS, behind the mind. And those authorities weren’t intent on waiting for approval to act from the glacial organs of an intergovernmental organization like the Federation.

All proof of Song’s involvement was to be destroyed before Artemis’s team launched. As far as the outside world was concerned, an unknown strike force had hit the planet and fled the scene before the local Federation fleet could apprehend them.

“The target, Oliver, is forbidden from weapons production and has no known combat experience. His force consists entirely of mining drones, cargo ships and survey equipment. And you provided us with highly details scans of the Meridian III complex, so navigating our way to his central matrix should be trivial.” Artemis said.

“Do not underestimate your enemy,” Admiral Song warned. “Replicants are not AI. They are not bound by their programming to follow galactic laws and regulation. If VKS anticipated attempts at sabotage they may have instructed the replicant to waive legal responsibilities and prepare defensive measures. It is highly unlikely Oliver knows you are coming, but do not proceed with undue confidence.”

Artemis grimaced. She was more aware than most of what the bastards at Vanderwick, Kriegwald and Stalgard Industries were capable of. This was a chance to deal some much needed damage to those soulless corpo liches.

For the first time since they came in, Rem spoke up. “Why’re we doing this? Why does a single replicant on a frontier world matter to the Union?”

Song held Artemis’s gaze while Rem spoke, dark clouds swirling behind his eyes. His answer didn’t come for several minutes, and Artemis was surprised he answered at all: “We recently lost contact with the frigate Meshuda. Meridian III was its last known destination. It is my belief that this replicant perceived Meshuda’s presence as a threat and captured or destroyed it.”

“So we’re hashing out revenge on Oliver for potentially killing your missing ship?” Rem asked, eyebrows raised. The corners of her lips curled in a venomous smile.

The storm in Song’s eyes grew into a maelstrom, yet his voice remained steady. “VKS has blocked all our official inquiries. Thedes is stonewalling an official investigation. So we are going to tear the truth out of its memory core ourselves. Justice does not wait for fascists dragging their feet on cooperation.”

Artemis couldn’t tell whether Rem was pleased by his answer or just the fact that she got one out of him. Either way, she changed the line of questioning quickly. “I know you guys can’t help us out directly with orbital bombardment or troops or anything like that. Nothing that can be traced back to the navy. But there’s got to be something you can offer to help us before we launch, right?” She shrugged. “All of us want this to go as smoothly as possible. Maybe you could slip us a nuke or two,” she joked.

“That isn’t necessary. I told you we could handle this on our own and I meant it.” Artemis shot Rem a look, hoping the other woman read the ‘shut up’ she was trying to psychically convey. Rem was rather pointedly refusing to make eye contact.

Song leaned back in his chair, holding his chin in his hands as he thought it over. “It is not an unreasonable request. I believe I actually can offer you some assistance. There is a problem that I need to get off my ship before we return to the main battlegroup, and I think it will be of some use to you…if you do not mind occasionally faulty equipment.”

“Oh,” Artemis blinked. “What is it?”