Black Dawn (20 page)

“I really don’t know what you expect to gain from such a deception, but I…”
“This is not a deception!” she exclaimed in anger. “Coy Lamont is lying here in my Sick Bay and needs help. Can you or can you
not help?”
He frowned even more. “In your Sick Bay? Alive?”
“Hooked up to life support, but yes.”
Another, Hmm.” And then, “May I come on board your vessel and see the …problem for myself?”
She had been secretly hoping she could get through this without personal contact, but realized it really wasn’t a very realistic hope.
“Perhaps that would be the easiest way to communicate. I will put you
through to the captain to make arrangements.” She shunted the com
back to the bridge and gave them the request.
“What was all that about?” Rose Durand asked from behind
her.
Ceal shook her head. “ I’m not sure what he thought I was lying about. “
“I guess we’ll soon find out. Are you sure you’re ready to deal
with these people face to face?”
“No, I’m not sure,” she said honestly. “Perhaps you should do
the talking. You’re more professional than I am in dealing with people.”
“You’re more professional and ethical and anything else you
can name than these so called “doctors”. But I’ll help any way I can.
The thing you know more about is the commodore itself. I know so
little of its personal history, I don’t think I could answer any of their
questions.”
Ceal thought for only a moment. “You’re right. We’ll start
with the file and I’ll explain as much as I know from there.”

Dr. Floyd-Scot stared down at Lamont in amazement.
“This
should not be. This should never have happened,” he muttered over
and over to himself as he checked readings and Ceal Byars’ notes from
the past few weeks.

He straightened up and looked at her. And then at Ceal standing just behind her. “I can only tell you what should have happened.
This product was designed to be an espionage tool.”

“
A spy, yes,” Ceal interjected, trying to promote Coy from tool
to human.
“Alright, a spy. As such it had very specific programming
and guidelines. It was supposed to remain aloof, unattached, an information gatherer. Even though the project was terminated and it was on
its own, as you say, the programming should have remained intact. Yet
you say it was an officer? That should not have been possible. That
sort of initiative just wasn’t in the design.”
“What do we do
now
?” Ceal asked for not the first time.
“If it were me, I’d simply pull the plug.” Both women stared at
him in utter horror. “This is not a breakdown as you put it, Dr. Byars.
It should have self destructed long ago at the first sign of deviation
from its programming. We do not allow shoddy work to be connected
to our business.”
“This is not shoddy work!” Ceal exploded. “This is our commander! How do we undo this self destruct?”
“You can’t undo a self destruct. The only reason it has a heartbeat is because you plugged it into your machines. If you want to be
humane, unplug it and get it over with.”
Neither BlackFleet medical officer could think of anything
short of invectives to say in answer to that. No one said anything while
they regrouped their thoughts.
“You filthy bastard,” came a voice that could only be described as a growl. They turned and saw Mara Hendricks standing in
the door. She, it seemed had no objection to invectives. “If it defeated
your program enough to become the best damn commander in space, it
can bloody well defeat it enough to wake up. Now, you can do something to help or you can go back down to your cesspit and hope I don’t
blow you and your so-called lab to hell.”
Dr. Scot looked quite flustered at all of this. “Really, Captain,
insults are not necessary. I’m not sure what you want me to do. I can’t
change something that was put into effect years ago.”
Ceal sat down on a stool. “So there’s really nothing to do. No
way to help.”
The Rigan doctor rubbed his chin for a moment. “I suppose
your captain could be right. If the program is degraded to this point
anything is possible. There might be one thing I could do for you. I
can’t do anything about whether it wakes up or not, or what mental
state it will be in. But I can surmise that it could be in a great deal of
physical discomfort due to the stresses its body underwent during the
destruct sequence. Normal medication does not have much effect on
our constructs, but I could give you something that would. I am sorry
but that is the extent that I can be of use to you.”

“
Thank you, Doctor,” Rose managed a civil tone. “We would
appreciate it.”
After they returned their “guest” and received the medication,
they and their escort, left orbit as soon as possible. No one wanted to
make the next report to the
Raven.
The twelve day journey back was
going to be much more somber than the hopeful trip out had been.

Butler walked into his cabin, locking the door behind him. He
stood in the dark and heaved a great sigh. “I hate you, Coy Lamont,”
he said angrily to the empty air. But the air didn’t believe it any more
than he did. What he did hate was the Lamont sized hole in his life.

After a minute or two he let the lights come up partway. Tiredly he went over to the cabinet and started some coffee. Opening a door
to get a cup, he caught sight of a bottle in the back of the shelf.

He didn’t want coffee. Coffee woke you up, kept you going.
He would rather stop for a while.
Just a little while.
He was still looking at the bottle when his wrist com beeped.
“Michaels to Butler.”
He closed the cabinet door.
“Butler here. Go ahead.”

Ken had barely gotten the command to open his door out of his
mouth when Michaels marched in and came to attention. Butler was
working at overcoming his initial impression of the man and remembering that he, in fact, was the senior officer and the Major’s commander. Not something the Major was particularly bothered with.

“
Sir, I need to train these recruits somewhere else.” He announced as soon as his curt salute had been acknowledged.
“That’s what I hate about you, Gary, you always beat around
the bush.” Ken as usual used his sarcasm to buy a few more moments
of time to gather his thoughts. Michaels, also as usual, did not respond. “All right, Major, take it from the top and let me in on what
we’re talking about.”
“Sir, with the latest recruits the
Talon
unit is complete. What
the fighter crews need now is intensive training. In the past I would
take new recruits to one of our training camps for several months.
What can I do that would be equivalent?”
“Months? You want the best defense the Fleet has offline for
months?”
“
Sir
, they won’t be the best defense anyone has if they don’t
get the training.”
Butler decided he understood why there were times when Coy
Lamont would ban the use of any more ‘sirs’ in a conversation. He
thought about the request. Actually, now with the
Nighthawk
gone,
and the remodeling of the
Raven
and the
Rook
, the whole Fleet was
pretty much off line. It was as good a time as any to accomplish what
Michaels wanted.
“Check with Vennefron to see what is close that would do.
Preferably in this quadrant. And I want it numbered in weeks, not
months.”

Major Michaels snapped off one of his perfect salutes.
“Yes,
sir. Thank you, sir.” As he wheeled and exited, Butler was thoroughly
convinced the last two ‘sirs’ were simply to annoy him.

“
Com to Butler.”
“Butler. Go ahead.”
“Sir, message from the
Nighthawk
.”
Butler’s mood brightened instantly. They must have news

from Riga by now.
“Send it down, Dev.” A few seconds later, the holo-image of Ceal Byars appeared on his desk com. “Hey, Ceal!
What..?” His words and mood died when he saw her face. “What
happened?”

“They’re monsters!”
her voice was shaking with anger.
“What are you talking about? They couldn’t help?”
“Help?! They told me to pull the plug and be done with it!

She
was so upset, Ken didn’t even want to ask the next question, for fear of the answer. “So, what’s the Skipper’s status now?”
Ceal took a breath to calm down. “No change. No change at
all. It might as well be in stasis.” Neither said anything for a minute or
two. “How’s the fleet?” she finally asked.
“Bon is still making a mess down in the bay. He hasn’t even
started on the
Rook
, yet. Michaels wants to take the
Talons
somewhere
to train,” he paused. “Everybody is pretty busy, except me.”
She managed to look him in the eye. “You, know, Ken…”
“Yeah, I do,” he cut her off. “Someday, we might have to
make permanent plans, but not yet.”
“All right. I’ll make regular reports on the way back.”
He nodded. Talk to you then.
Raven
out.”
The image faded, but Ken kept looking at the place where her
face had been. She was right, of course. At some point, they were going to have to grow up…but not yet.
* * * * *

The squadron of
Talons
flew gracefully through space having
been dropped off of the transport ship that had ferried them. They were
coming swiftly into the Avalon system where they would be based for
their weeks, not months, of training.

Avalon was established toward the end of the second wave of
expansion in the Beta region. Because it was along one of the main
trade routes, and due to its mineral-rich soil, it had flourished very
quickly. A large, bristling spaceport, and an extensive orbital facility
had grown up to service the planet’s commerce.

The
Talons
approached the orbital facility, slowing at a rate
that would allow them to dock. Lieutenant Anthony Smith carefully
piloted his
Talon
directly in the glide path provided by his helmet display. Smith had been selected as the third of the BlackFleet’s brand
new
Talon
fighter squadron commanders. Though designated as a
lieutenant, he would still be in charge of three other fighter crews, and
he was looking forward to the job.

He watched the station growing larger in his view with a sense
of real excitement. They were here at last, finally getting to the difficult, but necessary work of group tactical training.

He knew that Major Michaels intended to do this the right way
from the beginning, and he also knew it would take a lot of work to
make them a cohesive fighting unit. Smith shrugged off that thought
and refocused his thinking as his fighter came in closer to the huge station.

“
BlackFleet fighter corps, on programmed approach to docking bay 37,” the Major called to the Traffic Controller at Stareye, Avalon’s orbital platform.

“
We show you on proper approach,” the Traffic Controller
replied. “Welcome to Stareye.”
The thirteen
Talon
fighter craft, and the single shuttle accompanying them, entered the cavernous docking area. As the area repressurized, the BlackFleet crewmembers emerged.
Maj. Gary Michaels strolled over to his fighter crew as they
gathered together and stood at attention.
Smith liked the Major. Everybody did. Despite his gruff
manner. He expected the best, because he truly believed, deep down
that you had it in you. Smith stood at parade rest, along with the other
twenty-three pilots and gunners, while Michaels looked them over.
“You may be the sorriest raw recruits this ‘Fleet has, but it’s
time to turn you schoolgirls into a crack fighter corps. Yes, that’s
right, as of now, the training wheels come off. You will be going
through the most intensive seven weeks of your lives. Don’t think I’m
bluffing. I don’t care if you’ve been in sixty-five different navies, militias, or air corps, you are in for something new. We are going to become an effective arm of the ‘Fleet. That means, we’ve got to make up
in skill what we lack in numbers. That’s the only way this thing is
gonna work. So, are you ready?”
“Yes, sir!” Smith heard himself reply with the others.
“That sounded weak. I asked , ARE YOU READY?”
“YES SIR!”

Butler hadn’t been exaggerating much to Byars. He really
didn’t have a whole lot to do. He had hired a couple of people, that he
hoped would turn out to be good Execs for the other ships, looked
over Bon’s shoulder until the engineer growled at him, listened to Michael’s meticulous daily reports and held staff meetings with what senior staff was still here. So now, rather than look bored and useless to
the crew, Ken decided to go bother Rebel over on the
Rook.

Adrian Rebel was madly in love with his ugly little ship, and
actually enjoyed showing her off. It seemed to entertain him greatly
that Ken had never learned the magic sequence of switch flips that
turned the ordinary “freighter” into a warship. So he let himself be
taught, even though he figured half of Rebel’s enthusiasm was the
commander’s way of dealing with the loss of Lamont.

Schiff had wandered up to the bridge partway through the lesson and was leaning on the doorframe into the tiny tactical room. And
that’s where the three of them were when they got the call from
Vennefron.

Butler almost laughed. They were not in the best shape themselves right now, either, were they? But he kept the thought to himself.
“Who and where, Lieutenant?”

“From Victoria, sir. I’ll put you through,”
and before Ken
could object, Venn had connected him to a representative of the planet.
The man on the other end was a little dismayed at finding
Commodore Lamont unavailable, but was more than willing to explain
the situation to Butler. “Our Vice President was traveling home from a
routine diplomatic trip when his ship was attacked. All hands were
lost, but we believe that the Vice President was safely launched away
from the battle in an escape pod.”
While he was talking, Rebel pulled up the relevant area on his
holo-field. “Where exactly did he launch?”
The rep from Victoria gave him the best information they had,
but admitted it was not, in fact, exact. Rebel plugged it in anyway and
pointed at the field. “We could be there in a couple of days if he can
hold out,” he told Butler.
Ken stared at him. “With what?”
“Captain?” the rep’s voice sounded a little concerned.
“Just a moment, please,” Ken said to him and cut the audio.
“Now then,” he turned back to Rebel, “What are you talking about?”
Rebel didn’t answer. He merely straightened up and crossed
his arms.
Schiff said it for him. “We’re the BlackFleet.”
Butler stared at both of them. A dozen objections came to
mind. They were down by half of the fleet, all of the
Talons
, and oh,
yes, the Fleet commander. But even while the objections raced
through his mind they were followed by answers. The BlackFleet used
to do it with only one ship. Of course it was the
Raven
, not the
Rook
.
But they did still have the
Blackbird
. And the shuttles. And Rebel and
Schiff were still glaring at him.
With a mental sigh, Captain Butler turned the audio back on.
“We’re on it, sir. Send us every scrap of information you
have.” He switched the transmission back to Vennefron to actually collect said information, and raised his wristcom. “Butler to Drake.”
“Drake. Go ahead.”
“Get the
‘Bird
ready to fly. We have a job to do.”
To his credit, there was not a split second’s hesitation. “Aye,
aye, sir!”
Butler looked back at the two in front of him. “I’m going to
explain things to Bon and Knepp. Then it’s best speed.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” Rebel said to Butler, but gave Schiff a sideways grin. Schiff didn’t
quite
wink back.
Butler paused before dashing out. “You two are dangerous
together, you know?”
Rebel saluted. Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
The trip took just under two days. During which time they
found out that the escape pod had more than likely fallen into an asteroid field.
‘
This is beginning to sound way too much like an
academy exam
,’ Ken thought to himself. It did, in fact remind him of a
couple of drills he had had back when he was a cadet. Most of which
he passed, come to think of it. That little boost in confidence kept him
from whining about how useful the
Talons
would have been and get
down to planning their strategy.