Episode 78: Neutrino Load

Ensign Trell and Captain Ortega jumped into action almost before the video from the Emperor’s Herald finished playing. They ran for one of the doors at the side of the ship’s command chamber, but the door slammed into place as they reached it. Trell angrily punched the door before she turned to a maintenance panel at the side of the door and ripped it open. The dangerous humming around them began to increase as the timer on the monitors in the room gradually ticked down.

“That humming is the ship’s reactor core kicking into overdrive,” said Ortega. “It’s the sound of a systematic overcharge designed to cause an explosion.”

“You’re sure?” asked Trell, tossing the panel’s cover away from the wall and looking into the maintenance niche.

“Pretty sure,” he said. “Zamona’s wrong when he says that no one alive’s experienced this kind of self destruct sequence from a firsthand location. If we can get to the reactor core quickly enough, we might be able to disable a lot of these systems. Or we could just make a break for it and try to reach the airlock.”

“The airlock’s too slow,” shouted Trell as she disconnected two cords and reconnected another to the vacated connectors.

“Only if we let it cycle. In emergencies it can be reworked for an explosive jettison. It might even help launch us further away from the explosion.”

A sudden spark and cloud of smoke issued from the maintenance panel and the door reopened. Trell pushed her way out, picked herself up, and ran through the door, Ortega moving along with her. Another door slammed into place at the end of the hall and Trell clenched her fists, stifling a frustrated scream before she moved to the wall. She paused and frantically began moving her fingers along the gray metalwork.

“What’s wrong?”

“There’s no maintenance control point,” she said. “At least… none I can find.”

“Should we go back?”

“No time!” she said. “And even if there was, do you think any other route from that room wouldn’t have more security doors?”

Another noise, a high-pitched whine, floated through the air, and Ortega turned his head in the direction of the reactor.

“That’s new,” he said.

Suddenly, all the lights in the corridor grew brighter before going off with a sizzle and a pop. After a moment, emergency lights powered up, creating a dim glow that outlined the path and the location of most exits. With a gentle hiss, the door in front of them lifted up.

“Definitely new,” said Ortega. “I don’t… I admit I’ve never seen a self-destruct mechanism do this. Have you?”

“No,” she said. “This isn’t a standard protocol. Unless…”

“Is everyone alive over there?” said Captain Calen’s voice from over Trell’s communicator. Trell activated it to respond.

“Yes, Captain,” she said. “Some sort of self-destruct sequence was activated, but all the power has turned off now. I don’t know if we’re still in danger or not.”

“You’re not,” said Calen. “I’d been monitoring your situation and the reactor was going to blow. I decided to fire a neutrino load, something that could harmlessly reach through the hull to neutralize the energy.”

“You had a weapon that could do that?” said Ortega. “I mean, I know weapons exist that can do that but most ships aren’t armed with them.”

“Our ship is designed to be able to neutralize ships without fully destroying them so that they can be salvaged later,” said Trell. “We also have features for gradual retrieval operations. Why do you think the ship type is called a Scuttler?”

“I… guess I hadn’t thought about it,” said Ortega. “Do they power up quickly?”

“No, I was targeting your ship in case of treachery,” said Calen.

“Of course,” said Ortega.

“Trell, you may be interested to know that you’re not entirely without power over there,” said Calen. “Some extra system lines your vessel, tracing its way through the exterior hull. It seemed like part of the main systems when everything else was running, but it’s clear now.”

“Can you tell what its purpose is, Captain?” asked Trell.

“I’ll work on that,” said Calen. “Right now I can tell you that it generates some sort of energy field. It’s low-grade right now, but could be increased, infusing the entire ship and everything immediately around it with some sort of high-energy radiation.”

“Immolating itself,” said Trell, opening her eyes wider.

“What?” asked Ortega. “Oh. Oh! Good call.”

“What that?” asked Calen.

“Captain, you may have discovered the Phoenix Circuitry we’re looking for,” said Trell. “It’s a long-shot, but it’s possible that the Phoenix Circuitry is a device designed to surround the vessel with some sort of energy. If we can figure out what that energy does, we might know what the Phoenix Circuitry is designed for.”

“Then you’ve got work to do,” said Calen. “With any luck, the Dyson Empire’s just given us a weapon that we can give right back.”

Episode 75: Competitive Rule Breaking

Carmen listened to Xorn’Tal’s line go dead as her competitor-turned-conspirator let her know that Zack was en route to an ideal launch point. Her feed to the race’s color commentary had started taking an unusual turn, as Mark Matthews and others were commenting on the fact that not one of the three racers who’d pre-qualified had yet come back from the other side of Mandrake. As that was in the neighborhood of the Phantom Matador’s last appearance, some people were starting to put the pieces together, even without any handy satellites to tell them what was happening in real time.

“It’s no secret that the Phantom Matador’s been bothering the other racers,” said Mark Matthews. “Could we be looking at an old fashioned rumble that left the beaten path to head down a rocky road? I’m sure we’ll have more details soon, race officials are already on their way out there to investigate. Speaking of rocky roads, though, we’d like to thank Galacticream Confectioneries for sponsoring this broadcast of the race, and providing complimentary ice cream to everyone here in the studio.”

“How right is he? Did you three decide to just abandon the race for a chance to apprehend me?”

Carmen closed her eyes. She’d been able to feel the Phantom Matador walking closer for some time now, just as she was sure that he’d be able to tell wherever she was on the rock. He’d hesitated before approaching, making Carmen think that he was nervous. He also had his own feed to listen to racing commentary… or he had hearing good enough to listen to hers.

“Walk away before I end you,” she said. “Find some quiet spot on the opposite side of the asteroid, and maybe I won’t get rid of your oxygen before we turn you in.”

“That’s harsh,” he said. “And you wouldn’t survive without breathing any more capably than I. And who’s to say that I wouldn’t be able to provide my own oxygen?”

“Geeze, even your trash talk’s flowery,” said Carmen. “I’m not talking about this. Either walk away or get ready to get wrecked.”

“I see,” he said. “I’m sorry that you-”

Carmen spun in place, pulled the blaster from within her jacket, and fired.

Zack was right. He wasn’t where she could see him now that she was looking in the other direction… but she’d been able to feel him just fine. Her petrakinetic connection to her asteroid let her know exactly where he was standing.

The bolt of the blaster fire visibly impacted something, and the image of the Phantom Matador spasmed, twitched, and fell to its knees before drifting to the left until it matched up with what her petrakinetic senses were telling her. He was stunned, and visible cracklings of electric charge were still covering him. He looked up and met Carmen’s eyes, a look of disbelief and stunned betrayal.

“You can’t… guns aren’t permitted.”

“Actually, it says that no firing of weaponry or launching of missiles between asteroids is permitted, a rule that’s always been understood to mean that I can’t shoot you if you’re on an asteroid other than mine. This is just self defense, and still legal. Even if we weren’t in interplanetary space right now, I think the law’d go easy on me since you’re trespassing and I used the lowest setting. But seeing as we ARE in interplanetary space…”

Carmen dialed up the power on the weapon, creating an audible change in its hum. The Matador glared and rose to a knee.

“Hey,” said Carmen. “No. Stay right there. We’re gonna put you away for a long time when we get off the race track, and it’d be a real shame if you made me fry you before we had the chance to do that.”

The Matador didn’t move, but Carmen’s vision began to water. He seemed blurry for a second. Carmen was mostly sure that he hadn’t moved visually, and she could still feel him on the same part of the rock, but he was definitely getting ready for something.

“None of that now,” she said. “Nice trick, but I’m pretty sure it won’t work here. No wonder I couldn’t land a hit on you back in Helix. Too much wood paneling and metal. Is that why no one caught you, even when they nabbed your asteroid? Using that trick of yours to stay out of sight even when people searched?”

“Do you want me to leave to the other side of the asteroid or not?” he asked.

“We’re past that now,” said Carmen. “Wait… no, you couldn’t have used this trick to hide that time, at least not for long. The racing federation has scanners that can look through asteroids, and I’m pretty sure you’re not going to be tricking those once they’re in range.”

“That’s for me to know,” said the Matador. “So is this how we’ll remain for the remainder of the voyage? Me crouching uncomfortably, and you aiming a weapon at a fellow racer without ever blinking?”

“I don’t need to keep watching you to know where you are while we wait for the authorities to get here. In fact, based on what Zack told me, it probably helps if I don’t do that.”

“The detective does possess a certain crude intelligence. Tell me, why was he jumping to Mandrake?”

“He wasn’t,” said Carmen, thinking fast. “We saw a chance for him to get to you and take you out. Didn’t quite go according to plan.”

“So that isn’t him jumping again, behind you? There’s a person leaving Xorn’Tal’s asteroid. You’d know that if you just looked…”

“Nice try,” said Carmen. “Look, what Zack does on his own time’s none of my business, and won’t be yours either after you’re in jail.”

“Perhaps we should ask Zack himself,” said the Matador.

With a lurch, Carmen felt her asteroid jerk toward Mandrake, quickly. She growled and shot the Matador. The beam of crimson energy made him spasm violently as he fell back. She looked into the sky, nearly dominated by the jungle-infested planet overhead and tried to regain control of her rock. She’d already been drifting too close to the planet, and now her ride was definitely heading down, and fast.

Episode 60: Course Correction

“Look here, another reference to an Operation Eclipse,” said Captain Ortega. He tapped the screen of the CryptoBrick, selecting the reference and tagging it. “We should try to cross reference it all, figure out what it is. It’s mentioned a lot, but generally only as a secondary priority. Captains having to defer authority to people acting in accordance with Operation Eclipse, all data regarding operation eclipse is to be delivered to superior officers without analysis, different tactical plans for when Operation Eclipse is enacted… but no actual references to what it is.”

“The heuristic analysis noted that, too,” said Ensign Trell. “There was a related search result, too. Operation Eclipse relies on Phoenix Circuits, technology that’s meant to be destroyed if any vessels are captured. I’ve never encountered the term before, and can’t guess why it’s so secretive.”

“I’ve heard of it before, but probably in unrelated contexts. People like naming things after phoenixes. So that’s two mysteries. A technology we’ve never heard of, and an operation that we don’t have any clues about.”

“My guess is that it has something to do with whatever made our sun vanish.”

Ortega’s eyes grew wide.

“Of course,” he said. “That makes sense. I mean, your sun wasn’t gone, we saw a faint sliver of it. How did I miss that?”

“It’s the prerogative of captains to miss fine details as long as they can delegate that task to subordinates while they focus on their own grand designs. You’re lucky that this is my job for now.”

“I suppose I am,” said Ortega. “I’ve not had an actual crew for a long time, not ever since AstroGuard made me a special operative. I should request one.”

“On Morcala, you would demand one when you knew you were ready.”

“We do things differently in the Astroguard. Speaking of different cultures… do you suppose Pilot Tan’s craft might still have Phoenix Circuitry?”

“His standing orders were to destroy it if his vessel was captured. Being boarded by an enemy while your vessel is incapacitated certainly qualifies.”

“You know that, and I know that, but did Tan know that?”

“Why wouldn’t he?”

“We found it by pouring through his computer data,” said Ortega. “Between you and me, I got the impression that he wasn’t given much of a military training. Even if he was told that order, I think that his experience in the cloud could have easily shaken him enough to forget to check the protocols, especially since he was limiting computer use while the Cypulchral Cloud’s signal was interfering with his ship. It’s worth a look.”

“I’ll run it by Captain Calen,” said Trell. “She won’t want to delay our time in the Cloud any longer than we have to, but taking a chance to understand the technology of our enemies may give us an edge that she’ll value.”

A soft chime came over the loudspeakers. Trell’s head darted in the direction of the noise, though Ortega was just confused.

“What’s that? It doesn’t sound like an alarm.”

“It’s a notification of a course correction being made by the captain,” said Trell. “Made from her station, not mine.”

“So?”

“So she’s activated some non-essential computer features that I deactivated while we’re in the Cloud. Probably not risky, but… not the kind of action she’d take. Even if she thought it was worthwhile, she’d just use my station instead of going to the trouble of making it accessible through her station. She’s not patient in the face of emergencies.”

“Plus she’s supposed to be interrogating Tan.”

Trell frowned. She rose and walked to the door.

“Where are you going?”

“I haven’t heard any screaming,” said Trell. “We should have heard something by now.”

“Wait, you mean she was actually planning on torturing him? I thought she was just… threatening it.”

Trell remained unresponsive, instead walking out the door with a grim determination. Ortega winced and ran after. Trell wasn’t running, but her brisk pace and the small amount of space in the scuttler meant that he only caught up to her as she opened the door to the bridge. Captain Calen turned in her chair to look at the two as they entered, and William Tan cheerfully waved from Trell’s seat.

“What is… that Dysonite doing at my station?”

“I think the Emperor decreed that we’re Dysonians, actually,” said Tan. “A shame, too, since Dysonite has some pop to it. Sounds like dynamite.”

“Captain?” said Trell. “Our prisoner is at my station.”

“Leave Ensign Trell’s seat, Tan,” said Calen. “Trell, it was necessary for the moment. You were occupied analyzing his computer, and we needed to make course corrections. Tan’s piloting skills are exemplary, and his calculations allowed my course corrections to stay on target.”

“Are we going deeper into the cloud?” asked Ortega, looking at a monitor. “No objections, mind you, that’s likely where we’ll find Doctor Rogers, but were we done here?”

“We’d investigated the distress call, rescued the survivor, and retrieved the information from his computer. There’s nothing left to do.”

“Actually, Captain, there was one more reason we had to stick around. I’d like to search the Dyson…ian ship more thoroughly, and Ensign Trell thinks it’s at least worth considering.”

“We have greater concerns, Ortega,” said Calen. “Our destiny lies before us, and we’ve got to take you to your destiny within.”

“Are our scanners on?” said Trell, almost pushing William Tan out of her chair. “Captain, this is dangerous.”

“The scanners, though limited, will make navigation easier,” said Calen.

“Won’t that risk our own system’s contamination due to the signals in the cloud?” asked Ortega.

“We will, but we believe The Signal isn’t hazardous when handled properly,” said Tan. “I forgot to turn off my cybernetic overlay lenses when I was shutting down the rest of the systems on my ship, and we received a message. The Signal is being manipulated intentionally, now, it’s not just an engine of random chaos. By opening ourselves up to The Signal we’ll allow ourselves to more readily reach the one controlling it.”

A furious glare crossed Ortega’s face. He spun to the wall and kicked it angrily.

“Who controls it?” asked Trell.

“Doctor Rogers,” said Ortega.

“The Soul Survivor!” said a booming voice over the bridge’s speakers, almost at the same time as Captain Ortega. Moments later, the speakers crackled and a more reasonable voice sighed. “Ortega, you clod, that introduction was mine to make!”

“You’re predictable, Rogers,” said Ortega. “Predictable to a fault, and the only other known entity in the Cypulchral Cloud. It’s not hard to figure out.”

“He needs our help further in, Ortega,” said Calen. “We can lend him assistance. This should also help you to apprehend him.”

“That won’t happen,” said the speakers. “But the tenacious Captain Calen is correct. I do, in fact, need your assistance.”

“Captain, we don’t need to help an enemy of the state, especially when we have the situation with Morcala to deal with.”

“I think you’ll find that both Captain Calen and the pilot are very suggestible at the moment,” said Rogers. “Suggestible to me, at least. The cybernetic lenses that Dyson gives to his soldiers will apparently make it very easy for me to operate within this empire of his, short lived though I expect it to be. As you know well, Ortega, where there’s an output there’s a risk. Though by the end of this sentence, it won’t seem quite like a risk to you anymore.”

Tan gasped in surprise and the cybernetic lens in his eye flashed again. A bright glow filled the room.

Episode 59: Lens Flare

The CryptoBrick was a miracle of technology in the same way that a neanderthal’s cudgel could miraculously shatter a computer that contained advanced security clearance data. The question of needing a fast and reliable method of seeing if certain data could be hazardous to a computer had come up many times, often when the data in question was important enough for it to not matter. The CryptoBrick’s solution was to actually be a computer, a cheap and nearly disposable one designed to receive input in a number of ways but to only present its output through the screen built into one of its rectangular sides. Every model came with advanced cyber security features that allowed its users to clean files or quarantine and delete infected code, but it was understood that anything put onto a CryptoBrick wouldn’t be coming off again. The Astroguard generally only gave a few of them to each ship it sent on a mission, but Captain Andrew Ortega had specifically requested one as part of his equipment after a number of unusual digital crimes, most committed by Doctor Silas Rogers. Given his track record, the Astroguard was willing to grant the request.

“Cowardly but practical,” said Ensign Trell, turning the device over in her hands. “Spying on a problem without giving it a chance to strike back if it detects you may be effective, but it lacks something.”

She set the blocky box onto her workstation and watched its screen light up while its no-frills system booted quickly. Ortega awkwardly looked over her shoulder, not having much room for maneuverability in the closet-sized room marked as the “Technician’s Bay.”

“I wouldn’t say there’s no chance of it striking back,” said Ortega. “It takes a pretty unconventional virus to turn the CryptoBrick against its user, though.”

“How would it do that?”

“The first time I used it, I was trying to track down Doctor Rogers. He’d been using a few different pieces of code to steal some quick cash for another project. I put it in here to examine just how it worked. Apparently, he’d designed the program to detect that it was being installed into a CryptoBrick, and the program activated a secondary function that caused a pattern of bright lights to flash in quick succession on the screen. The effect triggered a pseudo-epileptic hypnotic aftereffect, and I wound up doing Rogers’ dirty work for the next two days.”

Ensign Trell’s eyes lit up and she smiled.

“Impressive. It doesn’t spread the virus, but it does allow some victory to come from containment. The Soul Survivor is a brilliant man.”

Ortega shook his head, but didn’t comment at the use of Doctor Rogers’ chosen title. Instead, he gestured to the screen.

“I think I was able to get everything. We should get started if we’re going to find anything worthwhile.”

“I can have a heuristic scan search for anything that might aid us,” said Trell. “The process would take minutes.”

“Sounds good, but I still think we should check for anything the scan might miss once it’s done. Any detail might be important.”

***

Captain Calen grinned at Pilot William Tan from across the brig’s table.

“Now then, you’ll be telling me everything I want to hear,” said Calen.

“Of course.”

“Don’t think it’ll be that easy for you. I’m sure you’ve had some training for this, but know that it won’t go as easily as you’d expect.”

“I don’t really know much,” said Tan. “I’ll tell you everything I can, and gladly, so-”

“Liar,” said Calen. “You’re a liar. You’re not just a pilot, I can see it in your eyes. There’s something nervous hiding within, and I’ll see the light stolen from them before I’m through.”

“That’s probably just my lenses,” he said. “Cybernetic overlays just over my eyes, said to be made by the Emperor himself. They boost my reaction time and can relay simple information to me. Sometimes I’m reading things they say instead of focusing on whoever I’m talking to.”

“That’s a habit you’ll want to break, and quickly. I hate to say it, Tan, but you represent the forces that took everything from me today, and I’ve been looking for someone to murder because of that. If it weren’t for the fact that Captain Andrew Ortega thinks you might have some infromation, this conversation would have started and ended with me blowing your ship out of the Cypulchral Cloud. Do you understand me?”

“Absolutely,” said Tan. “What do you want to knegh!”

The pilot lurched, clutching his skull. Calen leaned forward, not ready for this turn in the conversation. She’d been looking forward to building up to the point where she could start doing damage, but with Tan looking like he had a migraine she knew she’d have to abandon script.

“Tan?” she said. “Tan! Look me in the eye, cur. Focus!”

William looked up at Captain Calen. The readout on his eyes, previously only displaying general information about his location and Calen, changed. All previous data left his field of vision and new text flowed across it.

CPT. ORTEGA MENTIONED/NEAR/ABSENT. AWAITING SIGNAL.

“What?” asked Tan.

“I said Focus!” said Calen, rising. “Don’t push me, you sorry excuse for a soldier, it won’t take much to rush me along to where I finally get to hear your screams.”

SIGNAL RECEIVED. INITIATING FLARE.

A bright flash of light erupted from William’s eyes, and a series of lightning quick patterns appeared as afterimages in Calen’s eyes. William saw the same, less bright but more accurately focused as his cybernetic lenses shot the image straight onto his retinas.

A moment of silence passed before the two looked at each other, concerned.

“We’ve got to go deeper into the cloud,” said William.

Captain Calen hesitated but nodded.

“You’re right. I’ll probably die in this cursed place, but you’re right. It seems there’s no other option.”

“None,” said William. “The Soul Survivor needs our help.”

Episode 58: Pressure in the Cloud

Pilot William Tan was thrown from the airlock onto the floor of Captain Calen’s ship. A helmet obscured his face, and his hands were fastened behind his back by a set of the Astroguard’s magnetic manacles. Calen lowered her Maelstrom Ray as Captain Ortega stepped in, just behind his prisoner.

“I wouldn’t expect you to treat war criminals so roughly, Ortega.”

“When in Rome,” said Ortega, removing his helmet. “Didn’t want to risk you thinking he was loose. Pushing him down meant he would be clear of any weaponry aimed his way.”

“You’ve a poor opinion of my senses if you think I can’t tell a prisoner from a boarder, Captain, and an even poorer opinion of my aim if you think you could protect him that way. Is our prisoner much use to us, or is he what passes for ballast in this cursed place?”

“He knows how to interpret the information I was able to pull off his computer,” said Ortega, removing a black cube from a compartment near his belt. “An active interpreter is more useful than a quick information grab, especially since the Cypulchral Cloud does things to sensors. He said he wasn’t able to shut his sensors off after The Signal took hold of his ship, so I’m hoping that they were thorough.”

Calen saw the black cube in Ortega’s hand and took a step back, eyeing it warily.

“What possessed you to bring something from that ship back here? I don’t want to risk my scuttler becoming infected with whatever spoils you’ve brought back. More than one tale of salvage ends horribly.”

“This is an Astroguard device, Captain,” said Ortega. “It was made with those kinds of situations in mind. All I need is a monitoring device, and I can use this to examine the data from his computer in isolation from your ship’s systems.”

Calen nodded, still looking over the cube from a distance.

“Permission granted,” she said. “You’ll do this under the supervision of Ensign Trell, though. Not to cast doubts on your techniques, Ortega, but I’ll trust a Morcalan engineer with field experience before I’ll trust the work of a team of technicians working from the safety of their own labs. Trell! Get in here!”

Moments later, the Ensign stepped out of the bridge.

“Trell, the good Captain’s got some information from the Dyson vessel. Help him to get to it so that there’s no chance of the data coming into contact with our systems. We’re playing with fire, today, and I’ll take no chances.”

“Understood, Captain.” Said Trell.

“Meanwhile, I’ve got a prisoner to interrogate,” said Calen. Before Ortega could react, her hand shot down, circled around the pilot’s neck, and slammed him into the wall.

“Wait!” said Ortega.

“No,” said Calen. “I’m sure you think you’ve gotten everything you can out of him, Ortega, and he may even believe he’s told you everything of value, but I insist on wringing our guest dry.”

“Can you at least wait until after Trell and I have more data from his computer?”

“What’s your name, boy?” Calen asked, ignoring Ortega. “I don’t like having strangers on my ship.”

A muffled response came from inside his helmet.

“Why’s he traveling without external speakers?” asked Calen.

“I turned them off during the flight over,” said Ortega. “Didn’t want him interrupting things before you’d had your say.”

“I thought he was being a little too polite for one of Dyson’s mongrels,” said Calen.

“Is that just a basic flight suit?” said Trell, looking at the prisoner’s outfit. “Those things barely have any insulation. Or heating. Captain Ortega, people can die from even brief exposure to space travel if this is all they’re wearing.”

“He’s fine,” said Ortega. “On the way over, my suit measured the temperature and pressure, and at this spot in the cloud it’s actually not bad. A little worse than the top of a standard planet’s highest mountains, maybe. He’s probably cold, but he wasn’t going to die.”

“That’s incredible,” said Trell, reaching over to the prisoner’s helmet and reactivating its external communications. “Pressure like that shouldn’t be possible in a gas cloud this size. Especially this close to the exterior. If only our sensors were working right now, I’m sure the data would be valuable.”

“-old, cold, cold, cold,” said William as the speaker on his helmet crackled to life. “Stop saying I’m fine, I’m cold, I’m cold.”

“We can hear you, Pilot Tan,” said Ortega.

“Good, then you know I need to warm up,” said the prisoner. “I went through blizzard training that was better than this.”

“You’ll warm up soon enough,” said Ortega. He looked up to see Calen nodding in surprised approval.

“What?” he asked.

“There’s a mean streak in you,” said Calen. “You hide it well. That’s a bit reassuring.”

“It can get the job done sometimes,” said Ortega. He walked closer and lowered his voice to a whisper.

“I don’t want you to sacrifice your technique here,” said Ortega. “I really don’t. But there’s something not right about this. Go easy on him during the interrogation.”

“Don’t go soft just when I’m starting to believe there’s hope for you, Ortega.”

“I’m serious,” he said. “There’s something off about him. Too calm. He’s practically a civilian, the way he acts. You might get something useful out of him, but I don’t think he’s worth getting blood on your hands.”

“Typical Astroguard morality,” she said. “You think he’s not dark enough to be worth getting blood on your hands. I may go easy on him for your sake, I may, but know that he’ll have to prove himself. My hands are primed for blood, Captain, and it’s up to him to see if he’s bright enough to be worth staying clean.”

Episode 54: Interrogation Techniques

“Be ready to blow that ship out of the sky.”

Ensign Trell looked over her shoulder, surprised at Captain Calen’s order. The Captain sat in her chair, watching the view screen intently. Calen noticed Trell’s scrutiny and sat up straighter.

“Is there a problem, Trell?”

“No, Captain. I was just surprised.”

“That ship is a representative of the Dyson forces, and no matter what our guest believes that makes the ship’s crew party to the conquering of Morcala. Our home, world, and culture were all taken from us today, and I’ll taste vengeance eagerly at the first sign of any treachery.”

“Captain Ortega’s out there, though,” said Trell. “He’s almost reached the Dyson vessel. Destroying it now would kill him.”

“He knew the risks when he volunteered to suit up and fly over there. And don’t forget, Ensign, that the Dyson vessel’s not the only one over there capable of treachery.”

“Do you honestly think Captain Ortega would betray us?”

“He might assist the vessel in eluding us. Ortega knows how we feel about this act of mercy, and that any act of resisting on the part of the Dyson vessel’s crew would make it no longer worth our time to answer this distress call. If the legends about Captain Ortega are true, he would rather help a criminal like that escape than face certain death at our hands.”

“And if he escaped alive, we would be the villains of that story,” said Trell. She looked back at the view screen and saw the image of Captain Ortega’s rocket pack pushing him through the Cypulchral Cloud, nearly at the Dyson vessel.

“There’s no shame in being the antagonist in another’s tale of glory, Trell,” said Calen. “You’ve got a long career ahead of you, so it’s best to learn that lesson quickly. But we must strive to be the heroes in our own glorious tales. Captain Ortega and the Astroguard aren’t our steadfast allies, and their values differ from ours in many ways. Power up the weapons.”

***

Captain Ortega drifted through the outer airlock door, grateful that whoever built the vessel had designed it to accept the basic entry commands most well known throughout the Angelor Republic. Either that or the pilot of the vessel had altered the commands to make it easy for him to get in. Few had more experiences with far-flung human technologies than Captain Ortega, and fewer still had more experience with alien vessels, and he’d expected from the beginning that the Dyson ships were primarily made using local parts. The Empire was presenting itself as a foreign force that was gradually assimilating the cultures it conquered, but everything Ortega had seen of it so far seemed just a little too “local.”

A red light signaled the start of the cycling process, and Ortega promptly activated the magnetic locks in his boots so that he wouldn’t crash to the floor when the gravity turned on. Cycling the air and repressurizing the room happened quickly, and soon the door to the true interior of the ship rolled open. A man with scraggly black hair and a clean cut beard stood on the other side, wearing a simple uniform with a Dyson Empire symbol and a shaky smile.

“Oh, thank you!” he shouted. “I can’t believe it. I was certain that I’d be drifting through this horrible cloud forever.”

“Glad to be of service,” said Ortega, still wearing the helmet of his flight suit. “I want to point out that this isn’t exactly a friendly rescue, as you’ll be taken into custody as a prisoner of war.”

“I guessed that,” said the man. “I didn’t think Morcalans took prisoners. But judging by your uniform, you’re not Morcalan. Unless there’s some sort of partnership between them and the Astroguard.”

“Nothing more than a few non-aggression pacts,” said Ortega. “I should warn you that the other two people with me are Morcalans, though. They’re eager to have your head for what the Dyson Empire did to Morcala.”

The man grew quiet and drummed his fingers together. Ortega looked at his demeanor, curiously.

“What’s wrong?”

“I actually don’t know what happened out there,” said the man. “I came into the system running into the cloud. What did we do, exactly?”

“The Dyson Empire successfully convinced the Morcalan armada to surrender. Officially, at least. Knowing Morcalans, there are probably all sorts of ragtag pockets of resistance forming.”

“Wait, we actually did it?” said the man. “That’s amazing. Between you and me, I didn’t think Morcala would fall.”

“Your troops eventually fell back,” said Ortega. “Then some sort of… weapon was pulled into play. What was it?”

“What was what?”

“The weapon,” said Ortega. “It temporarily blacked out the sun, and destroyed dozens of Morcalan vessels.”

The man became quiet.

“I’m really not supposed to-”

“You’ll talk,” said Ortega, lunging forward and causing the Dyson soldier to leap back. “I’ve got two angry Morcalans back at the ship, and they’re going to need something. We’re going to be taking your computer and all the information on it, but that’ll take time to process. What won’t take time is you telling me about the weapon, this dangerous super weapon that’s allowed Dyson to steamroll over every system he’s invaded. You’ll tell before I reach the limit of what the Astroguard’s interrogation techniques allow, or you won’t have the time to tell the Morcalans before they start their interrogation techniques. Take this offer now, soldier, it’s the best you’ll be getting.”

“Right,” said the man. “Right. Sorry. I’m not used to this whole… prisoner of war thing. Right.”

“Let’s do this right,” said Ortega. “I’m Captain Andrew Ortega of the Astroguard, officially interrogating you, and yes my suit is recording this conversation. Your name please?”

“I’m Wi… wait, Andrew Ortega? Are you th-”

“Yes. That’s not important now. Name?”

“Pilot Wilson Tan, non-conscripted soldier of the Dyson Empire.”

“Non-conscripted?”

“As far as I know, the empire’s not needed to enact its conscription protocols yet. I’ve only encountered volunteers and robotic or computerized soldiers so far. I joined up about a month after Dyson conquered Mancala.”

“Why’d you join up so readily?”

“The money was good,” said Tan. “It pays better if I die in action but I’m trying to avoid that, much as I’d like my folks to cash in. And Dyson’s rule hasn’t exactly been too bad.”

“Oh?”

“No, it’s almost identical to how it was before. We’re using the same money, keeping most of the same politicians in charge… from what I’ve seen, he’s hands-off.”

“You’re not worried about the potential changes that might happen after he’s taken over more territory and stops focusing on the war?”

“Of course I am. There’s not much I can do about that, though. Every time I hear about a resistance movement or some counter-invasion, it never goes anywhere.”

“Naturally,” said Ortega. “Now that we’ve got the basics cleared up, you’re going to tell me about that super weapon, the thing that blacked out the sun. What was it?”

Pilot Tan hesitated and thought carefully about his words. Ortega raised an eyebrow and tilted his head in the direction of the airlock. Wilson wasn’t sure if Ortega was referring to the hard vacuum mere feet away or the Morcalans back at the ship he’d come from, but either way he continued.

“What you just saw was The Emperor’s Eye.”

Episode 36: Call from the Cloud

The Cypulchral Cloud loomed on the vidscreen, like a purple and grey wall of fog. It had a definite outer border, but tendrils of the cloud extended beyond its perimiter. Apart from its strange density, it didn’t seem all that special to Captain Ortega. He’d seen many nebulae in his time, most of them larger. Captain Calen and Ensign Trell, on the other hand, were staring at the cloud with a sense of trepidation that he hadn’t seen on either of them before.

As they neared, the cloud filled more and more of the viewscreen until it was all that could be seen. Ortega thought he detected the faintest hint of pixelation on the screen, but it left before he could put his finger on exactly what had changed.

“We’re hitting the first stages of the cloud now,” said Ensign Trell. “Motes of dust, and initial electromagnetic interference detected.”

“Will the scanners even be worth it in there?” asked Ortega.

“If the tales hold true, they won’t hurt,” said Calen. “The weird and uncatalogued energies within the Cypulchral Cloud will interfere with scanners, but won’t disable them. I’ll take a fighting chance to see any dangers before they come my way.”

“Captain, it may be worth our time to disable certain features of our computers,” said Trell. “If the reports can be trusted, the cloud’s ability to upload corrupted data can do serious damage to some systems. If we encounter the Soul Survivor it may also help us to prevent him from uploading his mind into our ship again.”

“Excellent plan, Ensign,” said Calen. “He took my ship before, but I’ll see him frozen in hydrofire before he does it again!”

“You mentioned drifting pieces of scrap before,” said Ortega. “Do you have any plans for avoiding them if our sensors go down?”

“Not one,” said Calen. “If I’m fast enough on the controls I’ll be able to bob and weave away at the first sign of trouble, but not before we take a few bruises.”

Ortega nodded. If not for the potential risk from Doctor Rogers, he would concede that the cloud wasn’t worth exploring. Even without the ghost stories that surrounded it, the Cypulchral Cloud’s hazards would warrant a ship more specially designed than the scuttler.

“Having second thoughts?”

Ortega looked at Trell. She’d caught him staring through the viewscreen, and likely had a good grasp on his feelings.

“Always,” he said. “A part of me is worried that Doctor Rogers knows nothing about this place. He might just be running here as a convenient hiding place.”

“Too late to back down now,” said Trell.

“Why?”

“Because we’re here,” said Trell. “Only cowards turn back from an engagement once the course is set. We’ve not even encountered any dangers that would warrant a tactical reevaluation.”

A chime sounded. Captain Calen snapped out of her studious examination of the viewscreen and Trell turned back to her station, looking nervous.

“What’s that?” asked Ortega.

“We’re being hailed,” said Calen. “Normally we automatically receive them and log the messages.”

“I removed our regular acceptance of hailing frequencies when I disabled some of the computer’s functions,” said Trell. “I didn’t want to take any chances with any features that allow external sources to automatically do things to our computers.”

“Should we answer?” asked Ortega.

“It would be safe normally,” said Calen. “But it’s also exactly the kind of thing that wouldn’t be safe in the old stories about this place.”

The chime sounded again. Ortega turned to look at the impending wall of purple mist and vapor. It didn’t look dangerous yet.

“I don’t see any ships that could be sending a hailing frequency,” said Ortega.

“There are none in the range of the scanners,” said Trell. “The scanners don’t penetrate the cloud, though. Neither do our eyes. A powerful transmitter from just inside the cloud could be hailing us.”

“Could we locate the source of the signal before accessing it?”

“Ordinarily, yes,” said Trell. “But not now. The amount of interference we’re receiving is already playing havoc with some of the data that our sensors are picking up. It might be safe to open the message and see what it says. If we’re lucky, we could close the signal if it appears to be nothing but a jumbled message.”

“Is it safe to do that?” asked Ortega.

“No,” said Trell. “Any exposure could potentially work faster than I could keep up with.”

“There’s one other factor we need to consider,” said Calen.

“And that is?” asked Ortega.

“It could be a distress call. I know we’re all thinking it… it’s the most likely reason to hail a ship out here. We can’t let our fear of what it might be keep us from answering it as we usually would. Trell, prepare to instantly close the message if it’s nothing but garbage. Ortega… if we’re lucky, this is The Soul Survivor realizing he’s made a terrible mistake and trying to find a quick rescue.”

“I doubt that,” said Ortega.

“As do I,” said Calen. “Regardless, it’s a risk we have to take. Trell, open the channel.”

Ensign Trell nodded and activated the communications array. Moments later a man’s voice rang through the bridge.

“-ease respond. To any ship in range, we need assistance. This is a repeating message. Please, respond. To any ship in range, we need assistance. This is a repeating message. Please, respond.”

Trell looked to Captain Calen as the message continued to loop. Calen nodded and Trell entered a command. Seconds later, the message broke off and the same voice, speaking in real time, came over the loudspeaker.

“Are you a rescue vessel? Really a rescue vessel?”

“Yes,” said Calen. “We’ve heard your distress call and can lend assistance if-”

“I’m transmitting my best guess as to coordinates,” said the voice. “I worked them out beforehand, they’re attached to the carrier as a secondary signal. The moment you have them, you need to cut transmission!”

“Why?” asked Captain Ortega.

“Because the signal will find you,” said the voice. “Assuming it hasn’t found you already.”