The Orrery (original)
Moderator: LadyTevar
Re: The Orrery (original)
Nice to see I was right. And while it is something you see coming, I still want to see how YOU handle the situation -- what twists you might have in store.
Me: Nope, that's why I have you around to tell me.
Nitram: You -are- beautiful. Anyone tries to tell you otherwise kill them.
"A life is like a garden. Perfect moments can be had, but not preserved, except in memory. LLAP" -- Leonard Nimoy, last Tweet
Re: The Orrery (original)
Crossover with the (sadly defunct) All The Lost Little Girls and Boys?what twists you might have in store
You will be assimilated...bunghole!
Re: The Orrery (original)
Liking where this is going - also really like the description of the BCP/Battlespace Intelligence. Nice to see a fresh take on the space dreadnought.
I've lost enough sleep to Bladed's work, thanks.Borgholio wrote:Crossover with the (sadly defunct) All The Lost Little Girls and Boys?what twists you might have in store
-
GrandMasterTerwynn
- Emperor's Hand
- Posts: 6787
- Joined: 2002-07-29 06:14pm
- Location: Somewhere on Earth.
Re: The Orrery (original)
It was quiet, absolutely quiet. The only sounds Taggart could hear were his own breathing, and the muted hum of ventilation fans from the other side of the airlock. He didn’t know what drew him back to that corridor he’d first set foot in almost a week and a half before.
Several of the doorways were covered in black, plastic, sheeting. Which, amidst the soft blue glow, looked like yawning black holes. Beyond them, Taggart knew there were scientists, hard at work with their archaeology … but he couldn’t hear them.
He walked slowly down the corridor, lightly touching the glowing wall panels. He probably had no business being where he was … Doctor al-Khalid would probably have a fit if he knew. However, Taggart was here for Akemi. He felt that, maybe there would be some clue here. Something he could find, and pass along to her, that would allow her to make sense of it all. However, as he closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, he reflected that the only thing he was getting, so far, was a headache.
A rustling noise caused him to turn his head, opening his eyes. There … out of the corner of his eye, he saw something flicker.
“What?”
More importantly, what did he just hear? He quickly looked up and down the corridor, and there again, he saw a flicker. His eyes narrowed, even as he felt his mouth go dry. If this place was affecting him … he was going to be trapped here for sure.
“Akemi,” he said, even as he mentally kicked himself. This installation, whatever it was, was absolutely impenetrable to any radio waves … even if he’d been close enough to the surface for Akemi to hear him. As he looked around, he saw flickering, always at the edges of his vision.
Taggart leaned against the wall, closing his eyes. He forced himself to breathe. He forced himself to think. That rustle he heard … that had to be plastic sheeting moving with the air, right? But what was the flicker? He had a theory, and he’d be able to test it out in a moment. For now, he had to breathe. He had to calm down.
Slowly, he opened his eyes, staring straight ahead. He fixated on one of the sealed-off doorways, staring at it as hard as he could. After a minute, he still felt the dull ache in his temples, but there was no flickering.
Suddenly, he looked off to the side, he saw something flicker at the edge his vision, and suddenly it all made sense. The blue glow he was seeing … wasn’t continuous. It was pulsed, as though the walls were one, massive, display with a just-too-slow refresh rate.
What was the importance of that, though?
“Captain Taggart!”
He looked up with a start, to see that one of the curtains had been drawn back. Doctor Guillarmod stared at him, with a pair of men carrying a large box between them.
“Doctor Guillarmod,” he replied.
“I’m surprised to see you here, Captain,” Doctor Guillarmod said, narrowing his eyes. Surprisingly, he sounded clear-voiced … with no sign of the congestion that plagued him earlier.
“I just thought I’d take a walk,” Taggart said. “See what the fuss was about.”
Doctor Guillarmod grunted. “Understandable … however, next time, let me know,” he said, scowling. “I’ve had a number of my people wander off and get lost within the last couple of days. I don’t need you Earthborn doing the same thing.”
Taggart frowned at Doctor Guillarmod’s tone, and at his revelation.
“My apologies,” he said. “What are your men carrying there?”
“Ah yes, that,” Doctor Guillarmod replied, after staring at Taggart for a few moments. “We’ve made … uh … considerable progress in finding our way deeper into the facility. We must be getting close to breaching the Orrery itself, because one of the rooms we found … was an armory.”
“An armory?”
“Yes,” Doctor Guillarmod replied, somewhat impatiently. “Inside that box are several of the … ah … weapons we’ve recovered.”
~~~
“After thoroughly documenting all the artifacts in-situ, the decision was made to retrieve three of the artifacts for further study in the conservatory,” a young man with bright red hair said, leaning against the podium.
There was a brief, nervous, buzz of whispered conversation in the auditorium. A buzz that fell silent as an image shimmered to life above the heads. Taggart frowned, as he saw what looked like a sword.
“These were the only weapons in what we’re calling ‘the armory.’ We found no signs of any advanced weaponry. No firearms, no polydet, and no lasers … only these swords.”
“Why swords, I wonder,” Doctor Van Hoeck said, leaning toward Taggart.
“Hm,” Taggart replied. “But is it just me, or does that resemble the wood swords they used during that ‘Surah’ they presented for us?”
“I am seeing the resemblance,” Doctor Van Hoeck said.
“This may be more evidence for the assertion that this facility was constructed by the Ancients, during their fall,” the man on the stage continued. “As you can see, it’s a lightly-curved sword with a straight, heavy point. The resemblance to many of the Surah swords independently developed across the capital worlds is … uncanny, to say the least.”
“That’s beautiful,” someone in the audience said. “The craftsmanship looks exquisite, even from this hologram.”
“I can assure you that it looks better in person,” the man on stage replied. “Once we’ve completed our initial analyses, we will schedule a seminar for you to see the recovered swords in-person.”
~~~
“I don’t like this,” Akemi said. Again, she and Taggart were seated at a featureless steel desk, across from each other. Only this time, a sword lay on the table. One that looked exactly like the ones brought up from the armory.
“It did strike me as strange,” Taggart replied. “Of all the things to recover, why swords?”
Akemi shook her head. “That’s not why I’m worried, Sean. I’m certain these aren’t ordinary swords.”
Taggart frowned, looking down at the sword.
“How do you figure?”
“They’re in too good a condition, for one,”Akemi replied. “The Commonwealth isn’t likely to let us have one for analysis, but their basic imaging equipment captures more information than they seem to think it does. Look at this,” she said, running a fingertip along the side of the blade.
Taggart’s eye, and his finger, followed Akemi’s. He didn’t see it at first … but in a few moments, he narrowed his eyes.
“This looks like frosted glass,” he said.
Akemi nodded. “The sword is surfaced in a thin coating of aluminum oxynitride, but that isn’t all. There are images where I can see the steel grain through the surfacing, and it looks very small and uniform. I believe these were constructed using what we would consider cutting-edge micro- and nano-assembly techniques.”
Taggart’s frown deepened. If what Akemi told him was true, the swords were ultra-modern battle steel surfaced in an abrasive, but corrosion-proof, coating.
“Do you understand what I’m saying, Sean?”
Taggart looked up, finding Akemi gazing intently at him. He nodded slowly. “Yeah. That isn’t a ceremonial anachronism, but a modern battle weapon … constructed using high-precision techniques,” he said, holding her gaze.
“Yes … So why are they here?” Akemi said. “If this was a post-Fall data repository, there’d be no reason to have an armory on-site filled with melee weapons.”
“Well maybe,” Taggart started to say. “Maybe they thought the data was worth protecting enough to not want to risk anything being damaged with other weapons.”
Akemi shook her head. “I don’t think that reconciles. They located it on a planet that had already been killed by their war, and then concealed it so well that it escaped detection for nearly 70,000 years. That clearly says they were planning to protect the facility through time and obfuscation. Weapons of any sort would only encourage looting, especially weapons that these people took so much trouble to preserve the memory of.”
Taggart nodded, his lips pursed. He felt warmth as Akemi clasped his hands in hers.
“Sean? How much longer do we have to stay here?”
“Doctor al-Khalid has to lift his quarantine first,” Taggart replied. “Has he been keeping you updated?”
Akemi nodded.
“Yes he has,” she said. “What he’s found worries me too. He hasn’t asked for it yet, but I’m almost tempted to offer my help.”
“Your help?”
“Yes,” Akemi replied. “I’m far more powerful than any of his standalone lab computers … and I think anything he does find would help me in answering the questions I want answered.”
Taggart looked down at Akemi’s hands, feeling their warmth in his. A tiny part of his brain knew that he was just inside a simulation, but the parts of his brain below that didn’t care. They also recoiled at the thought of ordering her to put herself at risk to help Doctor al-Khalid.
That was ridiculous, wasn’t it? Akemi wasn’t human, regardless of what the primordial parts of his brain were telling him. What harm could possibly come from her collaborating with Doctor al-Khalid? She couldn’t be exposed to, or affected by, whatever was in those “pollen grains.”
Still, he was worried … but still, he was an officer of the Imperial Starfleet. He gently squeezed her hands.
“If you think you can help Doctor al-Khalid, then I’ll authorize you, as the Ship’s Captain, to do what you can to help him,” he said.
Several of the doorways were covered in black, plastic, sheeting. Which, amidst the soft blue glow, looked like yawning black holes. Beyond them, Taggart knew there were scientists, hard at work with their archaeology … but he couldn’t hear them.
He walked slowly down the corridor, lightly touching the glowing wall panels. He probably had no business being where he was … Doctor al-Khalid would probably have a fit if he knew. However, Taggart was here for Akemi. He felt that, maybe there would be some clue here. Something he could find, and pass along to her, that would allow her to make sense of it all. However, as he closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, he reflected that the only thing he was getting, so far, was a headache.
A rustling noise caused him to turn his head, opening his eyes. There … out of the corner of his eye, he saw something flicker.
“What?”
More importantly, what did he just hear? He quickly looked up and down the corridor, and there again, he saw a flicker. His eyes narrowed, even as he felt his mouth go dry. If this place was affecting him … he was going to be trapped here for sure.
“Akemi,” he said, even as he mentally kicked himself. This installation, whatever it was, was absolutely impenetrable to any radio waves … even if he’d been close enough to the surface for Akemi to hear him. As he looked around, he saw flickering, always at the edges of his vision.
Taggart leaned against the wall, closing his eyes. He forced himself to breathe. He forced himself to think. That rustle he heard … that had to be plastic sheeting moving with the air, right? But what was the flicker? He had a theory, and he’d be able to test it out in a moment. For now, he had to breathe. He had to calm down.
Slowly, he opened his eyes, staring straight ahead. He fixated on one of the sealed-off doorways, staring at it as hard as he could. After a minute, he still felt the dull ache in his temples, but there was no flickering.
Suddenly, he looked off to the side, he saw something flicker at the edge his vision, and suddenly it all made sense. The blue glow he was seeing … wasn’t continuous. It was pulsed, as though the walls were one, massive, display with a just-too-slow refresh rate.
What was the importance of that, though?
“Captain Taggart!”
He looked up with a start, to see that one of the curtains had been drawn back. Doctor Guillarmod stared at him, with a pair of men carrying a large box between them.
“Doctor Guillarmod,” he replied.
“I’m surprised to see you here, Captain,” Doctor Guillarmod said, narrowing his eyes. Surprisingly, he sounded clear-voiced … with no sign of the congestion that plagued him earlier.
“I just thought I’d take a walk,” Taggart said. “See what the fuss was about.”
Doctor Guillarmod grunted. “Understandable … however, next time, let me know,” he said, scowling. “I’ve had a number of my people wander off and get lost within the last couple of days. I don’t need you Earthborn doing the same thing.”
Taggart frowned at Doctor Guillarmod’s tone, and at his revelation.
“My apologies,” he said. “What are your men carrying there?”
“Ah yes, that,” Doctor Guillarmod replied, after staring at Taggart for a few moments. “We’ve made … uh … considerable progress in finding our way deeper into the facility. We must be getting close to breaching the Orrery itself, because one of the rooms we found … was an armory.”
“An armory?”
“Yes,” Doctor Guillarmod replied, somewhat impatiently. “Inside that box are several of the … ah … weapons we’ve recovered.”
~~~
“After thoroughly documenting all the artifacts in-situ, the decision was made to retrieve three of the artifacts for further study in the conservatory,” a young man with bright red hair said, leaning against the podium.
There was a brief, nervous, buzz of whispered conversation in the auditorium. A buzz that fell silent as an image shimmered to life above the heads. Taggart frowned, as he saw what looked like a sword.
“These were the only weapons in what we’re calling ‘the armory.’ We found no signs of any advanced weaponry. No firearms, no polydet, and no lasers … only these swords.”
“Why swords, I wonder,” Doctor Van Hoeck said, leaning toward Taggart.
“Hm,” Taggart replied. “But is it just me, or does that resemble the wood swords they used during that ‘Surah’ they presented for us?”
“I am seeing the resemblance,” Doctor Van Hoeck said.
“This may be more evidence for the assertion that this facility was constructed by the Ancients, during their fall,” the man on the stage continued. “As you can see, it’s a lightly-curved sword with a straight, heavy point. The resemblance to many of the Surah swords independently developed across the capital worlds is … uncanny, to say the least.”
“That’s beautiful,” someone in the audience said. “The craftsmanship looks exquisite, even from this hologram.”
“I can assure you that it looks better in person,” the man on stage replied. “Once we’ve completed our initial analyses, we will schedule a seminar for you to see the recovered swords in-person.”
~~~
“I don’t like this,” Akemi said. Again, she and Taggart were seated at a featureless steel desk, across from each other. Only this time, a sword lay on the table. One that looked exactly like the ones brought up from the armory.
“It did strike me as strange,” Taggart replied. “Of all the things to recover, why swords?”
Akemi shook her head. “That’s not why I’m worried, Sean. I’m certain these aren’t ordinary swords.”
Taggart frowned, looking down at the sword.
“How do you figure?”
“They’re in too good a condition, for one,”Akemi replied. “The Commonwealth isn’t likely to let us have one for analysis, but their basic imaging equipment captures more information than they seem to think it does. Look at this,” she said, running a fingertip along the side of the blade.
Taggart’s eye, and his finger, followed Akemi’s. He didn’t see it at first … but in a few moments, he narrowed his eyes.
“This looks like frosted glass,” he said.
Akemi nodded. “The sword is surfaced in a thin coating of aluminum oxynitride, but that isn’t all. There are images where I can see the steel grain through the surfacing, and it looks very small and uniform. I believe these were constructed using what we would consider cutting-edge micro- and nano-assembly techniques.”
Taggart’s frown deepened. If what Akemi told him was true, the swords were ultra-modern battle steel surfaced in an abrasive, but corrosion-proof, coating.
“Do you understand what I’m saying, Sean?”
Taggart looked up, finding Akemi gazing intently at him. He nodded slowly. “Yeah. That isn’t a ceremonial anachronism, but a modern battle weapon … constructed using high-precision techniques,” he said, holding her gaze.
“Yes … So why are they here?” Akemi said. “If this was a post-Fall data repository, there’d be no reason to have an armory on-site filled with melee weapons.”
“Well maybe,” Taggart started to say. “Maybe they thought the data was worth protecting enough to not want to risk anything being damaged with other weapons.”
Akemi shook her head. “I don’t think that reconciles. They located it on a planet that had already been killed by their war, and then concealed it so well that it escaped detection for nearly 70,000 years. That clearly says they were planning to protect the facility through time and obfuscation. Weapons of any sort would only encourage looting, especially weapons that these people took so much trouble to preserve the memory of.”
Taggart nodded, his lips pursed. He felt warmth as Akemi clasped his hands in hers.
“Sean? How much longer do we have to stay here?”
“Doctor al-Khalid has to lift his quarantine first,” Taggart replied. “Has he been keeping you updated?”
Akemi nodded.
“Yes he has,” she said. “What he’s found worries me too. He hasn’t asked for it yet, but I’m almost tempted to offer my help.”
“Your help?”
“Yes,” Akemi replied. “I’m far more powerful than any of his standalone lab computers … and I think anything he does find would help me in answering the questions I want answered.”
Taggart looked down at Akemi’s hands, feeling their warmth in his. A tiny part of his brain knew that he was just inside a simulation, but the parts of his brain below that didn’t care. They also recoiled at the thought of ordering her to put herself at risk to help Doctor al-Khalid.
That was ridiculous, wasn’t it? Akemi wasn’t human, regardless of what the primordial parts of his brain were telling him. What harm could possibly come from her collaborating with Doctor al-Khalid? She couldn’t be exposed to, or affected by, whatever was in those “pollen grains.”
Still, he was worried … but still, he was an officer of the Imperial Starfleet. He gently squeezed her hands.
“If you think you can help Doctor al-Khalid, then I’ll authorize you, as the Ship’s Captain, to do what you can to help him,” he said.
Tales of the Known Worlds:
2070s - The Seventy-Niners ... 3500s - Fair as Death ... 4900s - Against Improbable Odds V 1.0
2070s - The Seventy-Niners ... 3500s - Fair as Death ... 4900s - Against Improbable Odds V 1.0
Re: The Orrery (original)
Curiousier and Curiousier.
You are certainly building up the suspence here.
You are certainly building up the suspence here.
Me: Nope, that's why I have you around to tell me.
Nitram: You -are- beautiful. Anyone tries to tell you otherwise kill them.
"A life is like a garden. Perfect moments can be had, but not preserved, except in memory. LLAP" -- Leonard Nimoy, last Tweet
-
GrandMasterTerwynn
- Emperor's Hand
- Posts: 6787
- Joined: 2002-07-29 06:14pm
- Location: Somewhere on Earth.
Re: The Orrery (original)
Today's chapter is just a short bridge chapter.
~~~
“May I have your attention, please? Brigadier General Sir Timothy Renton of the HMS Audacious will be arriving momentarily. Let’s all be sure to give him a warm welcome, and thank him for the fine job he’s been doing watching over us.”
Taggart sat up with a start, swinging his legs over the edge of his bed. Brigadier Sir Renton was coming down to the planet? Why would he do that? His next thought was to the strange things he’d been seeing lately, and if his Royal Navy counterpart were even aware of what was taking place.
”Captain Taggart,” a voice, the same voice that was just on the P.A., said inside his head.
“Taggart here, go ahead?”
”Brigadier General Sir Renton requests that you be at the main atrium when he arrives.”
Taggart frowned, as the realization set in.
“Right,” he said into the air. “I’ll be right there.”
~~~
It was cold, in that vaulted chamber of smoothed rock. Taggart stood just outside the arched doorway at the far end of the chamber, staring up at the massive blue banners of the Star Commonwealth.
“Captain Taggart,” Doctor Guillarmod said, coming to stand next to him. Taggart turned to Guillarmod, nodding quietly. The older man no longer had the rheumy-eyed look he did several days before, but he did look much more pale and haggard.
“Are you all right, Doctor? You don’t look so good.”
Doctor Guillarmod gave Taggart a sharp look, narrowing his eyes, with his lips momentarily contorting into a sneer. The expression fled as soon as it’d come, though, and the older man shook his head.
“It’s nothing, Captain,” Doctor Guillarmod replied. “Nothing more than a mild, but persistent, headache.”
“I’m sorry,” Taggart said. Doctor Guillarmod harrumphed, looking out across the chamber. Taggart frowned, and they shared several moments of silence.
“Do you know what this is about?”
“Not at all, Captain” Doctor Guillarmod replied. “If anything, I was hoping you knew.”
“Afraid not,” Taggart said, quickly shaking his head.
Doctor Guillarmod grunted, and both men settled in to wait. After a couple more minutes, the door at the far end of the chamber opened, and two serious-faced young women in the Royal Navy’s deep olive and gold uniforms stepped through, their pistols heavy on their hips. A moment later, the Brigadier General himself stepped through, his flinty-blue eyes locking on Taggart’s.
Taggart and Doctor Guillarmod crossed the chamber, and Taggart offered a crisp salute. Brigadier Sir Renton’s scowl didn’t leave his face, but his hand snapped up with sharp-edged military precision.
“Captain Taggart, Doctor Guillarmod,” he said.
“Welcome back, Brigadier Sir Renton,” Doctor Guillarmod replied, his expression brightening. “You honor us with your presence.”
Brigadier Sir Renton nodded once.
“I think you know why I’m here,” he said, turning to Taggart. “Captain Taggart, I would like to be blunt.”
Taggart nodded, thin-lipped.
“Be as blunt as you like, sir,” he replied.
“You’re still here,” Brigadier Sir Renton said. “BCP-48 is still here, which is quite contrary to the impression that Navy Command HQ gave me. So my question to you is: Why?”
“Well,” Taggart replied. “The thing is, I can’t leave until my Ship’s Surgeon gives the okay. I’m currently under quarantine.”
The gray-haired man scowled.
“Quarantine? Really?”
“Yes sir,” Taggart replied. “I was there when the facility was opened for the first time, and I was exposed to facility atmosphere.”
“It was at my behest,” Doctor Guillarmod replied. “It was to diffuse certain tensions that had arisen between the Captain and my colleagues.”
“Doctor,” Brigadier Sir Renton said, his voice flat. “If Captain Taggart’s presence was causing tension, you should have contacted me, and I would have had him removed.”
“No, no,” Doctor Guillarmod replied. “It’s nothing like that. My colleagues are scientists, and we can be a bristly bunch. Actually, I’ve been … quite pleased that Captain Taggart has been able to stay.”
Brigadier Sir Renton grunted. “I’m not. Imperial scientists and envoys would’ve been just as comfortable aboard a Royal Navy starship, and I’ve been requesting additional units here since I assumed this station.”
“And I’ve been the one recommending they refuse your requests,” Doctor Guillarmod replied, leaning in. “We’re quite secure from any conceivable threat here. We don’t need an entire Royal Navy squadron to stand guard over our excavation.”
Brigadier Sir Renton stared at Doctor Guillarmod for several, long, moments. He then took a breath and looked back at Taggart.
“How long, Captain?”
“Doctor al-Khalid said two weeks, at the earliest,” Taggart replied. “Over a week of that has passed.”
“And if those two weeks becomes even longer? What then?”
“I don’t know,” Taggart replied.
“Not good enough,” Brigadier Sir Renton said. “However, I’m certain that I don’t want you spending the rest of you ‘quarantine’ here.”
“Excuse me?”
“Captain Taggart, you’ve discharged your orders,” Brigadier Sir Renton replied, locking his eyes on Taggart. “There’s no reason I can think of for you to remain in this installation.”
“Brigadier Sir Renton,” Doctor Guillarmod said, his voice snapping. “Captain Taggart is a guest of the Crown!”
“And I am the Crown’s representative,” Brigadier Sir Renton replied evenly. “If he is a guest of the Crown, then it will be the Crown’s judgement that he can spend the rest of his time here aboard the Audacious.”
Sean!
“Akemi?” Taggart said, looking up.
A sharp-edged alarm reverberated through the chamber, causing Doctor Guillarmod and Brigadier Sir Renton to look up as well.
“May I have your attention please? A medical emergency is currently in progress. An emergency response team has been notified. Please follow their instructions. I repeat: A medical emergency is currently in progress. An emergency response team has been notified. Please follow their instructions.”
”Captain Taggart!” A voice in Taggart’s head shouted. He instantly recognized it as belonging to Doctor Van Hoeck. ”One of my men … it’s … you’d better come have a look at this!”
~~~
“May I have your attention, please? Brigadier General Sir Timothy Renton of the HMS Audacious will be arriving momentarily. Let’s all be sure to give him a warm welcome, and thank him for the fine job he’s been doing watching over us.”
Taggart sat up with a start, swinging his legs over the edge of his bed. Brigadier Sir Renton was coming down to the planet? Why would he do that? His next thought was to the strange things he’d been seeing lately, and if his Royal Navy counterpart were even aware of what was taking place.
”Captain Taggart,” a voice, the same voice that was just on the P.A., said inside his head.
“Taggart here, go ahead?”
”Brigadier General Sir Renton requests that you be at the main atrium when he arrives.”
Taggart frowned, as the realization set in.
“Right,” he said into the air. “I’ll be right there.”
~~~
It was cold, in that vaulted chamber of smoothed rock. Taggart stood just outside the arched doorway at the far end of the chamber, staring up at the massive blue banners of the Star Commonwealth.
“Captain Taggart,” Doctor Guillarmod said, coming to stand next to him. Taggart turned to Guillarmod, nodding quietly. The older man no longer had the rheumy-eyed look he did several days before, but he did look much more pale and haggard.
“Are you all right, Doctor? You don’t look so good.”
Doctor Guillarmod gave Taggart a sharp look, narrowing his eyes, with his lips momentarily contorting into a sneer. The expression fled as soon as it’d come, though, and the older man shook his head.
“It’s nothing, Captain,” Doctor Guillarmod replied. “Nothing more than a mild, but persistent, headache.”
“I’m sorry,” Taggart said. Doctor Guillarmod harrumphed, looking out across the chamber. Taggart frowned, and they shared several moments of silence.
“Do you know what this is about?”
“Not at all, Captain” Doctor Guillarmod replied. “If anything, I was hoping you knew.”
“Afraid not,” Taggart said, quickly shaking his head.
Doctor Guillarmod grunted, and both men settled in to wait. After a couple more minutes, the door at the far end of the chamber opened, and two serious-faced young women in the Royal Navy’s deep olive and gold uniforms stepped through, their pistols heavy on their hips. A moment later, the Brigadier General himself stepped through, his flinty-blue eyes locking on Taggart’s.
Taggart and Doctor Guillarmod crossed the chamber, and Taggart offered a crisp salute. Brigadier Sir Renton’s scowl didn’t leave his face, but his hand snapped up with sharp-edged military precision.
“Captain Taggart, Doctor Guillarmod,” he said.
“Welcome back, Brigadier Sir Renton,” Doctor Guillarmod replied, his expression brightening. “You honor us with your presence.”
Brigadier Sir Renton nodded once.
“I think you know why I’m here,” he said, turning to Taggart. “Captain Taggart, I would like to be blunt.”
Taggart nodded, thin-lipped.
“Be as blunt as you like, sir,” he replied.
“You’re still here,” Brigadier Sir Renton said. “BCP-48 is still here, which is quite contrary to the impression that Navy Command HQ gave me. So my question to you is: Why?”
“Well,” Taggart replied. “The thing is, I can’t leave until my Ship’s Surgeon gives the okay. I’m currently under quarantine.”
The gray-haired man scowled.
“Quarantine? Really?”
“Yes sir,” Taggart replied. “I was there when the facility was opened for the first time, and I was exposed to facility atmosphere.”
“It was at my behest,” Doctor Guillarmod replied. “It was to diffuse certain tensions that had arisen between the Captain and my colleagues.”
“Doctor,” Brigadier Sir Renton said, his voice flat. “If Captain Taggart’s presence was causing tension, you should have contacted me, and I would have had him removed.”
“No, no,” Doctor Guillarmod replied. “It’s nothing like that. My colleagues are scientists, and we can be a bristly bunch. Actually, I’ve been … quite pleased that Captain Taggart has been able to stay.”
Brigadier Sir Renton grunted. “I’m not. Imperial scientists and envoys would’ve been just as comfortable aboard a Royal Navy starship, and I’ve been requesting additional units here since I assumed this station.”
“And I’ve been the one recommending they refuse your requests,” Doctor Guillarmod replied, leaning in. “We’re quite secure from any conceivable threat here. We don’t need an entire Royal Navy squadron to stand guard over our excavation.”
Brigadier Sir Renton stared at Doctor Guillarmod for several, long, moments. He then took a breath and looked back at Taggart.
“How long, Captain?”
“Doctor al-Khalid said two weeks, at the earliest,” Taggart replied. “Over a week of that has passed.”
“And if those two weeks becomes even longer? What then?”
“I don’t know,” Taggart replied.
“Not good enough,” Brigadier Sir Renton said. “However, I’m certain that I don’t want you spending the rest of you ‘quarantine’ here.”
“Excuse me?”
“Captain Taggart, you’ve discharged your orders,” Brigadier Sir Renton replied, locking his eyes on Taggart. “There’s no reason I can think of for you to remain in this installation.”
“Brigadier Sir Renton,” Doctor Guillarmod said, his voice snapping. “Captain Taggart is a guest of the Crown!”
“And I am the Crown’s representative,” Brigadier Sir Renton replied evenly. “If he is a guest of the Crown, then it will be the Crown’s judgement that he can spend the rest of his time here aboard the Audacious.”
Sean!
“Akemi?” Taggart said, looking up.
A sharp-edged alarm reverberated through the chamber, causing Doctor Guillarmod and Brigadier Sir Renton to look up as well.
“May I have your attention please? A medical emergency is currently in progress. An emergency response team has been notified. Please follow their instructions. I repeat: A medical emergency is currently in progress. An emergency response team has been notified. Please follow their instructions.”
”Captain Taggart!” A voice in Taggart’s head shouted. He instantly recognized it as belonging to Doctor Van Hoeck. ”One of my men … it’s … you’d better come have a look at this!”
Tales of the Known Worlds:
2070s - The Seventy-Niners ... 3500s - Fair as Death ... 4900s - Against Improbable Odds V 1.0
2070s - The Seventy-Niners ... 3500s - Fair as Death ... 4900s - Against Improbable Odds V 1.0
Re: The Orrery (original)
Damn you! 
ASVS('97)/SDN('03)
"Whilst human alchemists refer to the combustion triangle, some of their orcish counterparts see it as more of a hexagon: heat, fuel, air, laughter, screaming, fun." Dawn of the Dragons
ASSCRAVATS!
"Whilst human alchemists refer to the combustion triangle, some of their orcish counterparts see it as more of a hexagon: heat, fuel, air, laughter, screaming, fun." Dawn of the Dragons
ASSCRAVATS!
-
GrandMasterTerwynn
- Emperor's Hand
- Posts: 6787
- Joined: 2002-07-29 06:14pm
- Location: Somewhere on Earth.
Re: The Orrery (original)
The young man lay on a gurney, inside the cut-open remnants of his clothing. His skin seemed ashen in the light, and his eyes rolled slowly, looking like glazed clay. His chest was covered in bandages, and they were absolutely soaked with blood.
“What happened,” Taggart said, pushing into the room. A woman in a white coat looked up at him, her head snapping towards him like a snake’s. The expression passed as she glimpsed Taggart’s uniform.
“We’re busy,” she replied. “He’s been stabbed through the chest, and he’s lost a lot of blood.”
She turned away from Taggart, barking orders at a couple of young men who scrambled around the dying man.
“Fair as death,” the man on the gurney moaned softly. “He hears me … he hears me, and his judgement will be fair ... Fair as death.”
Taggart’s eyes swiveled to the young man’s. That talk was familiar to him, but he couldn’t place it!
Wham!
The doors were thrown open, and another gurney rumbled into the room, surrounded by more concerned-looking men and women.
“I didn’t mean it,” the man on the second gurney groaned, thrashing against his restraints. His face was bloodied and swollen, like he’d been beaten. “I didn’t fucking mean it!”
“Fair as death … fair as death,” the young man on the first gurney whispered, his eyes rolling back into his head.
“Let me go,” the second man screamed. “You’re all going to kill me! Let me go!”
“Nobody’s going to hurt you,” a woman’s voice said, her tone heavy and authoritative. “You just relax. Nobody’s going to hurt you.” The woman in the white coat regarded the man for a few more moments, and then looked at one of the men attending him.
“Get him an overstim before he hurts himself, or one of you,” she said, before turning around to face Taggart once more.
“I’m sorry, Imperial, but it’s just gotten about a thousand times worse in here now. I’m going to have to ask you to leave … if you have them, I’ll answer your questions later.”
Taggart nodded convulsively, backing out of the room. In the next room, he saw Brigadier Sir Renton, and his two escorts, surrounding a young man with long, blonde, hair. Off to the side, Doctor Van Hoeck paced back and forth, his arms crossed over his chest.
“Captain Taggart,” Doctor Van Hoeck said, looking up. “How is he?”
“I … don’t think he’s good,” Taggart replied. “They told me he lost a lot of blood, before I got chased out.”
“Did you see the other guy come in? I just heard he’s the one that did it … that stabbed him.”
“Stabbed him,” Taggart echoed, his lips thinning into a tight frown.
“Yes,” Doctor Van Hoeck replied. “That’s what they just got out of that man over there,” he said, jerkily gesturing to the blonde man, just as one of the women with Brigadier Sir Renton took him firmly by the elbow.
Taggart turned, just as his Royal Navy counterpart did. The older man scowled, before he happened to glance at Doctor Van Hoeck.
“Any idea what’s going on here?” Taggart said, his eyes on Brigadier Sir Renton.
The older man’s jaw clenched momentarily.
“You know the gist of it,” he replied. “One of your people got stabbed by one of the doctoral students.”
“How,” Doctor Van Hoeck said, stepping in.
“I’m just starting my investigation, Doctor,” Brigadier Sir Renton started to say.
“Tell him,” Taggart said, grabbing the older man’s arm. “For that matter, fill me in too.” He took a breath. “Unless you want the Imperial Starfleet to get involved.”
Brigadier Sir Renton started to pull away, but then his eyes landed on the golden glints of the Swords of Saturn on Taggart’s shoulders.
“Don’t threaten me, Captain Taggart,” he replied, his eyes locking onto Taggart’s. “Old Earth is a very long way from here.”
“I don’t make threats, sir,” Taggart said, returning Brigadier Sir Renton’s stare with interest. “I have Imperial citizens here, whose safety I’m duty-bound to protect. We’re going to have to cooperate on this.”
Brigadier Sir Renton held his eyes on Taggart for several tense moments.
“Right, fine,” he replied. It was a few moments before he cleared his throat, and spoke again. “They were doing a detailed survey of ‘the armory.’ The witnesses all agree that the man holding the sword stumbled on something, and your man just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Stumbled? On what?” Doctor Van Hoeck said.
“I don’t have the answer to that. Hopefully, I’ll be able to settle that, when I talk to the man in question.”
Taggart nodded, thin-lipped. “I would like to be present for that. I would also like to speak to the witnesses myself.”
Brigadier Sir Renton scowled, staring at Taggart.
“Out of the question,” he replied. “Audacious, and the contract security service working here, can handle the investigation just fine. I can share everything with you that I learn, but I’m not willing to have you badger the witnesses.”
“I’m not sure that’s good enough, sir,” Taggart said.
“Look, Captain,” Brigadier Sir Renton replied. “Everything tells me it was a simple accident. I know that Doctor Guillarmod keeps insisting you’re a guest of the Crown. However, a good guest knows when not to butt into his host’s problems.”
Taggart nodded slowly.
“I see,” he replied.
“I would feel better if Captain Taggart went along with you,” Doctor Van Hoeck said. “Rolf is my man, and I think that gives me a little say.”
Brigadier Sir Renton shook his head, his frown firmly affixed.
“Doctor, you too are only a guest of the Crown,” he replied.
“I will protest to Doctor Guillarmod,” Doctor Van Hoeck said. “I can assure you of that. Captain Taggart might have to be diplomatic, but I sure as hell don’t.”
Brigadier Sir Renton looked at him, and then at Taggart.
“That’s your right to do so, Doctor,” he replied. “However, you should remember who actually represents the Crown here. I’ll remind you of the same thing, Captain Taggart. The person who has final say here is me, and I say that the Royal Navy will handle the investigation.”
“All right,” Taggart said, putting a hand on the shoulder of each man. “All right. General, you’ve made your point,” he added, glancing at Doctor Van Hoeck. “I know we have our disagreements, but as long as you keep us in the loop, I’ll accept that this is your show.”
Taggart nodded as he spoke, glancing back at Brigadier Sir Renton. The other man wasn’t going to budge, and if he, or Van Hoeck, kept pressing him, he’d likely follow through on his threat to have Taggart spend the rest of his quarantine as a “guest” of the Royal Navy.
Van Hoeck made an angry half-growl, but didn’t say anything.
“I can take that,” Brigadier Sir Renton replied, nodding slowly in turn. “I will share with you everything I find. I’ll promise you that.”
“Thank you, sir,” Taggart said. Brigadier Sir Renton looked at him and Doctor Van Hoeck.
“No,” he replied. “Thank you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have an investigation to run.”
Taggart and Doctor Van Hoeck watched the older man stalk off.
“Goddamn it, Captain. Why’d you cave like that?”
Taggart shook his head, thin-lipped. “Because he’s right. Just as I represent the Security Council, he represents his Crown. And I really think he’d throw us both off the planet just to remind us of who he represents.”
Doctor Van Hoeck scowled as he mulled over this. “I guess human nature is universal, isn’t it?”
Taggart nodded silently, and then something came to his mind.
“Doctor, I have a question.”
“Well, hope it’s one I can answer.”
“Your man … Rolf … said something when I saw him,” Taggart replied. “Fair as death. Do you know what that’s about?”
Doctor Van Hoeck looked down, and then slowly nodded.
“I do. Rolf Jorgensen is from a Verge world. The kind that were so primitive, that when the Empire rolled in with its battlewagons, drone soldiers, and Jandarma … it made a profound impact on some of the people on the receiving end.”
The scientist looked up, running a hand through his wavy graying strawberry-blonde hair.
“Some of those people came to worship His Ascendant Majesty, or the idea of him, as a god. Honestly,” he chuckled, but the sound was humorless, “a god of judgement and of death.”
“What happened,” Taggart said, pushing into the room. A woman in a white coat looked up at him, her head snapping towards him like a snake’s. The expression passed as she glimpsed Taggart’s uniform.
“We’re busy,” she replied. “He’s been stabbed through the chest, and he’s lost a lot of blood.”
She turned away from Taggart, barking orders at a couple of young men who scrambled around the dying man.
“Fair as death,” the man on the gurney moaned softly. “He hears me … he hears me, and his judgement will be fair ... Fair as death.”
Taggart’s eyes swiveled to the young man’s. That talk was familiar to him, but he couldn’t place it!
Wham!
The doors were thrown open, and another gurney rumbled into the room, surrounded by more concerned-looking men and women.
“I didn’t mean it,” the man on the second gurney groaned, thrashing against his restraints. His face was bloodied and swollen, like he’d been beaten. “I didn’t fucking mean it!”
“Fair as death … fair as death,” the young man on the first gurney whispered, his eyes rolling back into his head.
“Let me go,” the second man screamed. “You’re all going to kill me! Let me go!”
“Nobody’s going to hurt you,” a woman’s voice said, her tone heavy and authoritative. “You just relax. Nobody’s going to hurt you.” The woman in the white coat regarded the man for a few more moments, and then looked at one of the men attending him.
“Get him an overstim before he hurts himself, or one of you,” she said, before turning around to face Taggart once more.
“I’m sorry, Imperial, but it’s just gotten about a thousand times worse in here now. I’m going to have to ask you to leave … if you have them, I’ll answer your questions later.”
Taggart nodded convulsively, backing out of the room. In the next room, he saw Brigadier Sir Renton, and his two escorts, surrounding a young man with long, blonde, hair. Off to the side, Doctor Van Hoeck paced back and forth, his arms crossed over his chest.
“Captain Taggart,” Doctor Van Hoeck said, looking up. “How is he?”
“I … don’t think he’s good,” Taggart replied. “They told me he lost a lot of blood, before I got chased out.”
“Did you see the other guy come in? I just heard he’s the one that did it … that stabbed him.”
“Stabbed him,” Taggart echoed, his lips thinning into a tight frown.
“Yes,” Doctor Van Hoeck replied. “That’s what they just got out of that man over there,” he said, jerkily gesturing to the blonde man, just as one of the women with Brigadier Sir Renton took him firmly by the elbow.
Taggart turned, just as his Royal Navy counterpart did. The older man scowled, before he happened to glance at Doctor Van Hoeck.
“Any idea what’s going on here?” Taggart said, his eyes on Brigadier Sir Renton.
The older man’s jaw clenched momentarily.
“You know the gist of it,” he replied. “One of your people got stabbed by one of the doctoral students.”
“How,” Doctor Van Hoeck said, stepping in.
“I’m just starting my investigation, Doctor,” Brigadier Sir Renton started to say.
“Tell him,” Taggart said, grabbing the older man’s arm. “For that matter, fill me in too.” He took a breath. “Unless you want the Imperial Starfleet to get involved.”
Brigadier Sir Renton started to pull away, but then his eyes landed on the golden glints of the Swords of Saturn on Taggart’s shoulders.
“Don’t threaten me, Captain Taggart,” he replied, his eyes locking onto Taggart’s. “Old Earth is a very long way from here.”
“I don’t make threats, sir,” Taggart said, returning Brigadier Sir Renton’s stare with interest. “I have Imperial citizens here, whose safety I’m duty-bound to protect. We’re going to have to cooperate on this.”
Brigadier Sir Renton held his eyes on Taggart for several tense moments.
“Right, fine,” he replied. It was a few moments before he cleared his throat, and spoke again. “They were doing a detailed survey of ‘the armory.’ The witnesses all agree that the man holding the sword stumbled on something, and your man just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Stumbled? On what?” Doctor Van Hoeck said.
“I don’t have the answer to that. Hopefully, I’ll be able to settle that, when I talk to the man in question.”
Taggart nodded, thin-lipped. “I would like to be present for that. I would also like to speak to the witnesses myself.”
Brigadier Sir Renton scowled, staring at Taggart.
“Out of the question,” he replied. “Audacious, and the contract security service working here, can handle the investigation just fine. I can share everything with you that I learn, but I’m not willing to have you badger the witnesses.”
“I’m not sure that’s good enough, sir,” Taggart said.
“Look, Captain,” Brigadier Sir Renton replied. “Everything tells me it was a simple accident. I know that Doctor Guillarmod keeps insisting you’re a guest of the Crown. However, a good guest knows when not to butt into his host’s problems.”
Taggart nodded slowly.
“I see,” he replied.
“I would feel better if Captain Taggart went along with you,” Doctor Van Hoeck said. “Rolf is my man, and I think that gives me a little say.”
Brigadier Sir Renton shook his head, his frown firmly affixed.
“Doctor, you too are only a guest of the Crown,” he replied.
“I will protest to Doctor Guillarmod,” Doctor Van Hoeck said. “I can assure you of that. Captain Taggart might have to be diplomatic, but I sure as hell don’t.”
Brigadier Sir Renton looked at him, and then at Taggart.
“That’s your right to do so, Doctor,” he replied. “However, you should remember who actually represents the Crown here. I’ll remind you of the same thing, Captain Taggart. The person who has final say here is me, and I say that the Royal Navy will handle the investigation.”
“All right,” Taggart said, putting a hand on the shoulder of each man. “All right. General, you’ve made your point,” he added, glancing at Doctor Van Hoeck. “I know we have our disagreements, but as long as you keep us in the loop, I’ll accept that this is your show.”
Taggart nodded as he spoke, glancing back at Brigadier Sir Renton. The other man wasn’t going to budge, and if he, or Van Hoeck, kept pressing him, he’d likely follow through on his threat to have Taggart spend the rest of his quarantine as a “guest” of the Royal Navy.
Van Hoeck made an angry half-growl, but didn’t say anything.
“I can take that,” Brigadier Sir Renton replied, nodding slowly in turn. “I will share with you everything I find. I’ll promise you that.”
“Thank you, sir,” Taggart said. Brigadier Sir Renton looked at him and Doctor Van Hoeck.
“No,” he replied. “Thank you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have an investigation to run.”
Taggart and Doctor Van Hoeck watched the older man stalk off.
“Goddamn it, Captain. Why’d you cave like that?”
Taggart shook his head, thin-lipped. “Because he’s right. Just as I represent the Security Council, he represents his Crown. And I really think he’d throw us both off the planet just to remind us of who he represents.”
Doctor Van Hoeck scowled as he mulled over this. “I guess human nature is universal, isn’t it?”
Taggart nodded silently, and then something came to his mind.
“Doctor, I have a question.”
“Well, hope it’s one I can answer.”
“Your man … Rolf … said something when I saw him,” Taggart replied. “Fair as death. Do you know what that’s about?”
Doctor Van Hoeck looked down, and then slowly nodded.
“I do. Rolf Jorgensen is from a Verge world. The kind that were so primitive, that when the Empire rolled in with its battlewagons, drone soldiers, and Jandarma … it made a profound impact on some of the people on the receiving end.”
The scientist looked up, running a hand through his wavy graying strawberry-blonde hair.
“Some of those people came to worship His Ascendant Majesty, or the idea of him, as a god. Honestly,” he chuckled, but the sound was humorless, “a god of judgement and of death.”
Tales of the Known Worlds:
2070s - The Seventy-Niners ... 3500s - Fair as Death ... 4900s - Against Improbable Odds V 1.0
2070s - The Seventy-Niners ... 3500s - Fair as Death ... 4900s - Against Improbable Odds V 1.0
-
GrandMasterTerwynn
- Emperor's Hand
- Posts: 6787
- Joined: 2002-07-29 06:14pm
- Location: Somewhere on Earth.
Re: The Orrery (original)
“Captain,” a voice said behind Taggart. He turned, and his breath caught in his throat. Standing behind him was a waldo, two meters of robotic exoskeleton topped by a shiny black dome.
“Mansoor?”
“No, Captain,” the waldo replied. “This is Doctor al-Khalid.”
Taggart nodded, frowning. “You’re here remotely?”
“Yes. Unfortunately, I have to make do with a BI waldo. The Commonwealth won’t let me send down one of my own.”
“That explains it, then,” Taggart replied. “I think they’d be even less happy with you using a combat waldo, though?”
“The last time I handled a sidearm was in Basic,” the waldo replied.
Taggart wasn’t really sure that was the point, but he nodded anyway.
“What’s going on, I’m guessing there’s a reason you’re looking for me in-person?”
“There are a couple of things,” the waldo replied. “Akemi and I have managed to disassemble the particulates that I mentioned to you the other day. The team down here was kind enough to lend me some time on their slicer.”
“The pollen grains,” Taggart said, as the memory bubbled to the surface. “What did you find?”
“They’re not pollen grains,” the waldo replied. “They’re nanotech … specifically designed to deliver a payload to a human host.”
“Nanotech,” Taggart echoed, pursing his lips. “Like the wall panels?”
“You’ve been talking to Van Hoeck, then,” the waldo replied. “These particles use the same nucleic acids for their internal machinery that the wall panels do. There’s more, though. The payload consists of proteins and DNA.”
Taggart’s eyebrows went up … Doctor al-Khalid had just drawn a clear distinction between the control code for the nanotech, and the payload it was carrying. That could only mean …
“Human-compatible DNA?”
“Yes,” the waldo replied. “There are several complete sequences … some appear to encode a lot of information, but that’s only the interesting part.”
Taggart nodded. “I’m guessing it gets worse?”
“Yes. Much worse. Based on what I’ve seen so far, Captain, most of the payload is designed to do one thing very well, and that’s defeat the blood-brain barrier,” the waldo said, suddenly spreading out its arms. “Everyone here, who had a reaction to the particles, probably has a viral brain infection.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You heard me, Captain,” the waldo replied. “The payload of those nanotech particles are brain viruses.”
Taggart took a deep breath, feeling his mouth go dry. Brain viruses? Everyone here … was infected by ancient brain viruses?
“Everyone?”
The black dome tilted slightly. “Everyone who showed symptoms. So, everyone not of immediate Earth descent.”
Taggart slowly let his breath out, subconsciously putting a hand to his chest.
“But I’m not giving the all clear just yet,” the waldo said. “Now that the viruses are replicating in human hosts, there may be some transmission modalities that would affect Imperial personnel as well.”
Taggart took another breath, his heart jumping, and his stomach souring. He knew what would happen if he was infected with something. There was no need to rehash that with Doctor al-Khalid.
“What … what is going to happen to the people who are infected?” He asked, forcing his mind back to the possibility that, whatever this infection was going to do, that he was going to be around to witness it.
“I don’t know,” the waldo replied. “ I need time, and a working brain model, to figure that out. Fortunately, I have one … we have Mansoor’s original upload files and gestalt, and Akemi is working to synthesize a brain model for me.”
“Wait … Akemi? If we need to get Mansoor involved,” Taggart said, trailing off.
“You already know the answer to that, Captain,” the waldo replied. “They would have to work together intimately to do what I need done.”
Taggart nodded quickly. If it were Tajana, or possibly any Battlespace Intelligence but Mansoor, it would’ve been different. Instead, it was Akemi whose processing power would be on the line, and that thought made Taggart feel immeasurably worse.
“How much … time,” he managed.
“A few days,” the waldo replied. “And then whatever simulation time Akemi needs.”
“What happens until then?”
“Full quarantine,” the waldo replied. “Nobody should enter, and nobody should exit this facility. Especially from the Commonwealth side. I need you to arrange a meeting with their people, so I can outline to them the severity of this. Frankly, they need to shut their excavation down right now.”
~~~
Taggart and Akemi sat across from each other at the same, featureless, steel table.
“I guess you were right to be worried,” he said, staring down at his reflection. Akemi regarded him, her expression thoughtful.
“Starfleet is going to have to be notified,” she finally said. “And their reply will brevet Commander Heifetz to Captain, and his first order will be for my immediate withdrawal.”
Taggart nodded slowly. That was Akemi, the Intelligence of the ship, giving her cold assessment of their tactical situation.
“I don’t want that,” she added, softly, a few moments later. “I don’t want that, Sean.”
“Neither do I,” Taggart replied.
“I’m going to do everything I can to help Commander al-Khalid,” Akemi said. “At least, then we’ll know.”
Taggart could only nod.
“He told me that you two were developing a brain model based on Mansoor’s original files.”
“Yes,” Akemi replied. “Don’t remind me. I didn’t like him before I started looking at what actually makes him work. I like him even less now.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Akemi said, touching Taggart’s hand. “It’s what has to be done.”
“Is it safe,” Taggart asked, looking up into Akemi’s eyes.
“Reasonably,” Akemi replied, after what felt like a long pause. Taggart frowned.
“It is safe,” Akemi said, looking into Taggart’s eyes. “I’m taking all possible precautions.”
“All right,” Taggart replied, after several long moments silence. “All right,” he repeated, sounding more sure. “How long?”
“I have the model up and running, pretty much,” Akemi said. “And I already have the first few completed DNA sequences from Commander al-Khalid. It shouldn’t be more than, say, three days.”
Taggart nodded, feeling sense of relief from Akemi’s precise time estimate, even though she seemed to be much further along than Doctor al-Khalid first lead him to believe.
“Do you think we can hold off on sending the dispatch boat until then?”
After a few moments of thought, Akemi nodded.
“Good,” Taggart said. “It’ll be better if we can provide Starfleet with as much information as possible.”
“Yes,” Akemi replied. Her eyes caught Taggart’s, and her lips ticked upward into a smile.
Taggart smiled back. His brow went up, as he remembered something.
“Did you try to warn me, just before Doctor Van Hoeck called about his man being stabbed?”
Akemi seemed to freeze for a moment, before pursing her lips.
“No, Sean, I didn’t,” she replied.
Taggart frowned. “Hm,” he said. “I could’ve sworn I heard your voice at that time.” He then exhaled sharply. “I’m sorry, Akemi, maybe the stress is getting to me a little.”
Akemi touched his hands.
“I will be very glad, when this is all over,” she replied.
“Mansoor?”
“No, Captain,” the waldo replied. “This is Doctor al-Khalid.”
Taggart nodded, frowning. “You’re here remotely?”
“Yes. Unfortunately, I have to make do with a BI waldo. The Commonwealth won’t let me send down one of my own.”
“That explains it, then,” Taggart replied. “I think they’d be even less happy with you using a combat waldo, though?”
“The last time I handled a sidearm was in Basic,” the waldo replied.
Taggart wasn’t really sure that was the point, but he nodded anyway.
“What’s going on, I’m guessing there’s a reason you’re looking for me in-person?”
“There are a couple of things,” the waldo replied. “Akemi and I have managed to disassemble the particulates that I mentioned to you the other day. The team down here was kind enough to lend me some time on their slicer.”
“The pollen grains,” Taggart said, as the memory bubbled to the surface. “What did you find?”
“They’re not pollen grains,” the waldo replied. “They’re nanotech … specifically designed to deliver a payload to a human host.”
“Nanotech,” Taggart echoed, pursing his lips. “Like the wall panels?”
“You’ve been talking to Van Hoeck, then,” the waldo replied. “These particles use the same nucleic acids for their internal machinery that the wall panels do. There’s more, though. The payload consists of proteins and DNA.”
Taggart’s eyebrows went up … Doctor al-Khalid had just drawn a clear distinction between the control code for the nanotech, and the payload it was carrying. That could only mean …
“Human-compatible DNA?”
“Yes,” the waldo replied. “There are several complete sequences … some appear to encode a lot of information, but that’s only the interesting part.”
Taggart nodded. “I’m guessing it gets worse?”
“Yes. Much worse. Based on what I’ve seen so far, Captain, most of the payload is designed to do one thing very well, and that’s defeat the blood-brain barrier,” the waldo said, suddenly spreading out its arms. “Everyone here, who had a reaction to the particles, probably has a viral brain infection.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You heard me, Captain,” the waldo replied. “The payload of those nanotech particles are brain viruses.”
Taggart took a deep breath, feeling his mouth go dry. Brain viruses? Everyone here … was infected by ancient brain viruses?
“Everyone?”
The black dome tilted slightly. “Everyone who showed symptoms. So, everyone not of immediate Earth descent.”
Taggart slowly let his breath out, subconsciously putting a hand to his chest.
“But I’m not giving the all clear just yet,” the waldo said. “Now that the viruses are replicating in human hosts, there may be some transmission modalities that would affect Imperial personnel as well.”
Taggart took another breath, his heart jumping, and his stomach souring. He knew what would happen if he was infected with something. There was no need to rehash that with Doctor al-Khalid.
“What … what is going to happen to the people who are infected?” He asked, forcing his mind back to the possibility that, whatever this infection was going to do, that he was going to be around to witness it.
“I don’t know,” the waldo replied. “ I need time, and a working brain model, to figure that out. Fortunately, I have one … we have Mansoor’s original upload files and gestalt, and Akemi is working to synthesize a brain model for me.”
“Wait … Akemi? If we need to get Mansoor involved,” Taggart said, trailing off.
“You already know the answer to that, Captain,” the waldo replied. “They would have to work together intimately to do what I need done.”
Taggart nodded quickly. If it were Tajana, or possibly any Battlespace Intelligence but Mansoor, it would’ve been different. Instead, it was Akemi whose processing power would be on the line, and that thought made Taggart feel immeasurably worse.
“How much … time,” he managed.
“A few days,” the waldo replied. “And then whatever simulation time Akemi needs.”
“What happens until then?”
“Full quarantine,” the waldo replied. “Nobody should enter, and nobody should exit this facility. Especially from the Commonwealth side. I need you to arrange a meeting with their people, so I can outline to them the severity of this. Frankly, they need to shut their excavation down right now.”
~~~
Taggart and Akemi sat across from each other at the same, featureless, steel table.
“I guess you were right to be worried,” he said, staring down at his reflection. Akemi regarded him, her expression thoughtful.
“Starfleet is going to have to be notified,” she finally said. “And their reply will brevet Commander Heifetz to Captain, and his first order will be for my immediate withdrawal.”
Taggart nodded slowly. That was Akemi, the Intelligence of the ship, giving her cold assessment of their tactical situation.
“I don’t want that,” she added, softly, a few moments later. “I don’t want that, Sean.”
“Neither do I,” Taggart replied.
“I’m going to do everything I can to help Commander al-Khalid,” Akemi said. “At least, then we’ll know.”
Taggart could only nod.
“He told me that you two were developing a brain model based on Mansoor’s original files.”
“Yes,” Akemi replied. “Don’t remind me. I didn’t like him before I started looking at what actually makes him work. I like him even less now.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Akemi said, touching Taggart’s hand. “It’s what has to be done.”
“Is it safe,” Taggart asked, looking up into Akemi’s eyes.
“Reasonably,” Akemi replied, after what felt like a long pause. Taggart frowned.
“It is safe,” Akemi said, looking into Taggart’s eyes. “I’m taking all possible precautions.”
“All right,” Taggart replied, after several long moments silence. “All right,” he repeated, sounding more sure. “How long?”
“I have the model up and running, pretty much,” Akemi said. “And I already have the first few completed DNA sequences from Commander al-Khalid. It shouldn’t be more than, say, three days.”
Taggart nodded, feeling sense of relief from Akemi’s precise time estimate, even though she seemed to be much further along than Doctor al-Khalid first lead him to believe.
“Do you think we can hold off on sending the dispatch boat until then?”
After a few moments of thought, Akemi nodded.
“Good,” Taggart said. “It’ll be better if we can provide Starfleet with as much information as possible.”
“Yes,” Akemi replied. Her eyes caught Taggart’s, and her lips ticked upward into a smile.
Taggart smiled back. His brow went up, as he remembered something.
“Did you try to warn me, just before Doctor Van Hoeck called about his man being stabbed?”
Akemi seemed to freeze for a moment, before pursing her lips.
“No, Sean, I didn’t,” she replied.
Taggart frowned. “Hm,” he said. “I could’ve sworn I heard your voice at that time.” He then exhaled sharply. “I’m sorry, Akemi, maybe the stress is getting to me a little.”
Akemi touched his hands.
“I will be very glad, when this is all over,” she replied.
Tales of the Known Worlds:
2070s - The Seventy-Niners ... 3500s - Fair as Death ... 4900s - Against Improbable Odds V 1.0
2070s - The Seventy-Niners ... 3500s - Fair as Death ... 4900s - Against Improbable Odds V 1.0
-
GrandMasterTerwynn
- Emperor's Hand
- Posts: 6787
- Joined: 2002-07-29 06:14pm
- Location: Somewhere on Earth.
Re: The Orrery (original)
So ... what happens when your doctor, the one responsible for protecting you from nasty pathogens, is among the first exposed? This chapter.
~~~
“Doctor Guillarmod is on-site, and he told me he’s not to be disturbed,” a sandy-haired young man said. Taggart frowned, as he’d decided to speak to Guillarmod outside of the hours he usually spent overseeing the excavation. He’d gone to the doctor’s office after he couldn’t reach him by the comms.
“It’s pretty late for him to be doing that, isn’t it?”
“The senior staff have been keeping much later hours down there lately,” the young man replied. “Some of us doctoral students are starting to feel a little, you know, squeezed out.”
“Hm,” Taggart grunted. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Don’t lie to me,” the young man replied. “You Imperials are the worst of the lot. We’ve been doing all the dirty work for those graybeards for months. What do they do? They invite a bunch of Imperials to come here, and then suddenly decide they’re grad students all over again. We should be down there.”
Taggart frowned, taking a step back as the young man ranted. Briefly their eyes met, and the young man glared at him. And then, suddenly, he blinked rapidly and cleared his throat.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t know what came over me, just then.”
“You’re jealous,” Taggart replied. “I can only imagine how important this work is.”
“You’re right,” the young man said. “You can only imagine,” he added, before shaking his head again. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Taggart replied. “Anyway, could you let Doctor Guillarmod know I’m looking for him?”
“Yeah, sure,” the young man said.
“Thanks,” Taggart replied. He turned away, making his way down the polished stone corridors. In the distance, he heard sharp, angry, words being exchanged. A man passed him by, coughing into the crook of his arm. He turned a corner, ignoring the dull-eyed, hostile, gaze of another man.
He found that he was wandering toward where he knew the installation’s emergency ward was. Why? Did he want to check on Rolf Jorgensen? Or did he want to get a better look at the man who attacked him? And if so … what would happen if Brigadier Sir Renton’s people were there guarding him?
Taggart pursed his lips and shook his head. He’d deal with the consequences later, whatever they happened to be. He pushed past a pair of men stumbling down the corridor, and ignored the sullen gazes of another pair of men.
He turned a corner, finding himself in the same waiting room that he and Doctor Van Hoeck confronted Brigadier Sir Renton in much earlier that day. Quickly, he crossed the space, pushing aside the door into the emergency ward. He blinked, his eyes adjusting to the dim blue lighting. The ward was empty. Every bed was eerie in its crisp, empty, orderliness.
“There’s nobody here,” a woman’s voice said. Taggart’s head snapped over to the side, and he saw a woman wearing a long, white, coat; her curly red hair spilling onto her shoulders. Taggart could only stare at her as she stepped into the emergency ward for a closer look at him.
“You’re the Imperial Captain,” the woman said. It wasn’t a question. “I’m Chief Surgeon Erin Finnegan, Colonel in His Majesty’s Royal Navy.”
“I’m sorry we couldn’t meet under better circumstances,” Taggart replied. “It’s … um … less crowded than I remember.”
Colonel Finnegan nodded.
“It’s been a busy day, Captain,” she said, looking down. “I take it you’re here to take custody of Rolf Jorgensen’s body?”
“I … no … what?”
Colonel Finnegan shook her head. “Guess you haven’t heard yet,” she replied. She rolled her shoulders in a shrug. “You’d might as well hear it from me, then. We couldn’t save him.”
“You mean he’s dead?”
“That’s right,” Colonel Finnegan replied. “I’m sorry,” she added, as if she remembered something. “There was just too much blood loss and too much tissue damage.”
“It was an accident, though,” Taggart said, frowning. “And he was awake when I last saw him.”
Colonel Finnegan shook her head. “He had plenty of fight-or-flight hormones in him. He was already as good as dead when they brought him here. He just hadn’t realized it yet.”
Taggart nodded, tight-lipped. A small part of his brain marvelled at the Commonwealth doctor’s seeming lack of bedside manner.
“There’s another thing,” Colonel Finnegan said, snapping Taggart back. “I’m certain it wasn’t an accident. I told the General that much a couple hours ago.”
“It wasn’t an accident,” Taggart echoed. “And Brigadier Sir Renton already knows? Why didn’t he tell me?”
“It wasn’t. The entry wound was just to the left of the sternum and angled toward the heart. And the way the weapon was driven in seemed to take into account its curvature. Your man died because his attacker wanted him dead.”
Taggart scowled.
“And where is he now?”
Colonel Finnegan exhaled sharply, leaning back against one of the empty beds.
“I probably shouldn’t tell you this, since the General didn’t see fit to tell you anything … but he’s probably well on his way to the Audacious by now. Brigadier Sir Renton called down a squad of Royal Marines to oversee the transfer.”
Taggart swallowed. He wasn’t sure what hit him harder, the betrayal, or the fact that the only other combat starship in the system was now … possibly … contaminated by a 70,000 year old virus.
“Did they take any precautions?” He found himself asking. The Commonwealth doctor tilted her head, eying him.
“He was on overstim the entire time,” she replied. “He was too agitated to be allowed to regain consciousness.”
“No,” Taggart said, shaking his head quickly. “Biological … disease precautions.”
“There wasn’t any reason to,” Colonel Finnegan started to say.
“Colonel,” Taggart said, gritting his teeth. “My own Chief Surgeon wanted me to call a meeting with the installation’s staff because he’s discovered that the Orrery has been circulating weaponized nanotech. He plans to call for a general quarantine.”
“Excuse me,” Colonel Finnegan replied, pushing herself off the bed. “My long assays discovered nothing out of the ordinary! I gave the all-clear myself, and I even tried it myself with no ill-effects. What makes you Imperials think there’s weaponized nanotech floating about?”
“Haven’t you noticed everybody around here developing some sort of sickness, at the same time? Did your tests catch all the particulates in the air?”
“I saw the particulates, but they didn’t react to any of my standardized tests,” Colonel Finnegan replied. “And what sickness are you talking about … everybody here has been healthy until that attack in the armory.”
Taggart’s eyes went wide. How could Colonel Finnegan not have noticed the respiratory sickness? Then, a flashback hit him in the gut. Doctor Guillarmod and the others seemed oblivious to their own suffering, and now that he thought about it, the sickness seemed to leave as quickly as it’d come.
“Are you feeling all right, Captain?”
“I don’t think I am,” Taggart replied, taking a deep breath. “I really don’t. Still, my Chief Surgeon wants to have his meeting. But I don’t know what the point’d be now … HMS Audacious is probably going to be as contaminated as the installation here.”
“Captain Taggart,” Colonel Finnegan said, taking Taggart’s wrist. Taggart froze, feeling the coolness of her grip. “Look. Have your Chief Surgeon contact me directly, and we’ll discuss his findings before I talk to Doctor Guillarmod and the others.”
“But what about the Audacious, Colonel? Everyone up there could be in danger right now.”
Colonel Finnegan shook her head. “I’m surprised you don’t know this, Captain, but the air aboard a combat starship is extensively filtered and recirculated. If the patient Brigadier Sir Renton took back with him was infected with some sort of nanotech, that nanotech would be filtered out fast enough that the ship’s crew will be fine.”
“The Brigadier, and anyone he brought down with him, were also exposed,” Taggart replied. He knew how a starship’s environmental plant worked. He also knew that only parts of a ship had that much air recirculation.
“If there was something to expose them to,” Colonel Finnegan replied. Her grip on Taggart’s wrist became momentarily, painfully, tight. “Again, I will have to speak with your Chief Surgeon before I’m willing to make that call.”
Taggart stared at her.
“I would think,” he said slowly, “that it’d be prudent to, maybe at least, ask for a voluntary quarantine. At least until you and my Chief Surgeon have had a chance to talk. If you disagree with him, then what would be lost?”
Colonel Finnegan held Taggart’s gaze for a moment, and then looked down, releasing her grip on his wrist. He resisted the urge to rub his wrist, watching the Commonwealth doctor.
“I … can ask,” she finally conceded. “I don’t see why, but I can ask Audacious to pass the word that I’d like the General and his party to remain, say, in the hangar. He won’t be happy about it, but he’ll probably listen.”
“Thank you,” Taggart replied, exhaling slowly. “I know I’m asking a lot.”
Colonel Finnegan raised her hand. “You really are, Captain. You, and your Chief Surgeon, damned well better have a good story to tell me.”
~~~
“Doctor Guillarmod is on-site, and he told me he’s not to be disturbed,” a sandy-haired young man said. Taggart frowned, as he’d decided to speak to Guillarmod outside of the hours he usually spent overseeing the excavation. He’d gone to the doctor’s office after he couldn’t reach him by the comms.
“It’s pretty late for him to be doing that, isn’t it?”
“The senior staff have been keeping much later hours down there lately,” the young man replied. “Some of us doctoral students are starting to feel a little, you know, squeezed out.”
“Hm,” Taggart grunted. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Don’t lie to me,” the young man replied. “You Imperials are the worst of the lot. We’ve been doing all the dirty work for those graybeards for months. What do they do? They invite a bunch of Imperials to come here, and then suddenly decide they’re grad students all over again. We should be down there.”
Taggart frowned, taking a step back as the young man ranted. Briefly their eyes met, and the young man glared at him. And then, suddenly, he blinked rapidly and cleared his throat.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t know what came over me, just then.”
“You’re jealous,” Taggart replied. “I can only imagine how important this work is.”
“You’re right,” the young man said. “You can only imagine,” he added, before shaking his head again. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Taggart replied. “Anyway, could you let Doctor Guillarmod know I’m looking for him?”
“Yeah, sure,” the young man said.
“Thanks,” Taggart replied. He turned away, making his way down the polished stone corridors. In the distance, he heard sharp, angry, words being exchanged. A man passed him by, coughing into the crook of his arm. He turned a corner, ignoring the dull-eyed, hostile, gaze of another man.
He found that he was wandering toward where he knew the installation’s emergency ward was. Why? Did he want to check on Rolf Jorgensen? Or did he want to get a better look at the man who attacked him? And if so … what would happen if Brigadier Sir Renton’s people were there guarding him?
Taggart pursed his lips and shook his head. He’d deal with the consequences later, whatever they happened to be. He pushed past a pair of men stumbling down the corridor, and ignored the sullen gazes of another pair of men.
He turned a corner, finding himself in the same waiting room that he and Doctor Van Hoeck confronted Brigadier Sir Renton in much earlier that day. Quickly, he crossed the space, pushing aside the door into the emergency ward. He blinked, his eyes adjusting to the dim blue lighting. The ward was empty. Every bed was eerie in its crisp, empty, orderliness.
“There’s nobody here,” a woman’s voice said. Taggart’s head snapped over to the side, and he saw a woman wearing a long, white, coat; her curly red hair spilling onto her shoulders. Taggart could only stare at her as she stepped into the emergency ward for a closer look at him.
“You’re the Imperial Captain,” the woman said. It wasn’t a question. “I’m Chief Surgeon Erin Finnegan, Colonel in His Majesty’s Royal Navy.”
“I’m sorry we couldn’t meet under better circumstances,” Taggart replied. “It’s … um … less crowded than I remember.”
Colonel Finnegan nodded.
“It’s been a busy day, Captain,” she said, looking down. “I take it you’re here to take custody of Rolf Jorgensen’s body?”
“I … no … what?”
Colonel Finnegan shook her head. “Guess you haven’t heard yet,” she replied. She rolled her shoulders in a shrug. “You’d might as well hear it from me, then. We couldn’t save him.”
“You mean he’s dead?”
“That’s right,” Colonel Finnegan replied. “I’m sorry,” she added, as if she remembered something. “There was just too much blood loss and too much tissue damage.”
“It was an accident, though,” Taggart said, frowning. “And he was awake when I last saw him.”
Colonel Finnegan shook her head. “He had plenty of fight-or-flight hormones in him. He was already as good as dead when they brought him here. He just hadn’t realized it yet.”
Taggart nodded, tight-lipped. A small part of his brain marvelled at the Commonwealth doctor’s seeming lack of bedside manner.
“There’s another thing,” Colonel Finnegan said, snapping Taggart back. “I’m certain it wasn’t an accident. I told the General that much a couple hours ago.”
“It wasn’t an accident,” Taggart echoed. “And Brigadier Sir Renton already knows? Why didn’t he tell me?”
“It wasn’t. The entry wound was just to the left of the sternum and angled toward the heart. And the way the weapon was driven in seemed to take into account its curvature. Your man died because his attacker wanted him dead.”
Taggart scowled.
“And where is he now?”
Colonel Finnegan exhaled sharply, leaning back against one of the empty beds.
“I probably shouldn’t tell you this, since the General didn’t see fit to tell you anything … but he’s probably well on his way to the Audacious by now. Brigadier Sir Renton called down a squad of Royal Marines to oversee the transfer.”
Taggart swallowed. He wasn’t sure what hit him harder, the betrayal, or the fact that the only other combat starship in the system was now … possibly … contaminated by a 70,000 year old virus.
“Did they take any precautions?” He found himself asking. The Commonwealth doctor tilted her head, eying him.
“He was on overstim the entire time,” she replied. “He was too agitated to be allowed to regain consciousness.”
“No,” Taggart said, shaking his head quickly. “Biological … disease precautions.”
“There wasn’t any reason to,” Colonel Finnegan started to say.
“Colonel,” Taggart said, gritting his teeth. “My own Chief Surgeon wanted me to call a meeting with the installation’s staff because he’s discovered that the Orrery has been circulating weaponized nanotech. He plans to call for a general quarantine.”
“Excuse me,” Colonel Finnegan replied, pushing herself off the bed. “My long assays discovered nothing out of the ordinary! I gave the all-clear myself, and I even tried it myself with no ill-effects. What makes you Imperials think there’s weaponized nanotech floating about?”
“Haven’t you noticed everybody around here developing some sort of sickness, at the same time? Did your tests catch all the particulates in the air?”
“I saw the particulates, but they didn’t react to any of my standardized tests,” Colonel Finnegan replied. “And what sickness are you talking about … everybody here has been healthy until that attack in the armory.”
Taggart’s eyes went wide. How could Colonel Finnegan not have noticed the respiratory sickness? Then, a flashback hit him in the gut. Doctor Guillarmod and the others seemed oblivious to their own suffering, and now that he thought about it, the sickness seemed to leave as quickly as it’d come.
“Are you feeling all right, Captain?”
“I don’t think I am,” Taggart replied, taking a deep breath. “I really don’t. Still, my Chief Surgeon wants to have his meeting. But I don’t know what the point’d be now … HMS Audacious is probably going to be as contaminated as the installation here.”
“Captain Taggart,” Colonel Finnegan said, taking Taggart’s wrist. Taggart froze, feeling the coolness of her grip. “Look. Have your Chief Surgeon contact me directly, and we’ll discuss his findings before I talk to Doctor Guillarmod and the others.”
“But what about the Audacious, Colonel? Everyone up there could be in danger right now.”
Colonel Finnegan shook her head. “I’m surprised you don’t know this, Captain, but the air aboard a combat starship is extensively filtered and recirculated. If the patient Brigadier Sir Renton took back with him was infected with some sort of nanotech, that nanotech would be filtered out fast enough that the ship’s crew will be fine.”
“The Brigadier, and anyone he brought down with him, were also exposed,” Taggart replied. He knew how a starship’s environmental plant worked. He also knew that only parts of a ship had that much air recirculation.
“If there was something to expose them to,” Colonel Finnegan replied. Her grip on Taggart’s wrist became momentarily, painfully, tight. “Again, I will have to speak with your Chief Surgeon before I’m willing to make that call.”
Taggart stared at her.
“I would think,” he said slowly, “that it’d be prudent to, maybe at least, ask for a voluntary quarantine. At least until you and my Chief Surgeon have had a chance to talk. If you disagree with him, then what would be lost?”
Colonel Finnegan held Taggart’s gaze for a moment, and then looked down, releasing her grip on his wrist. He resisted the urge to rub his wrist, watching the Commonwealth doctor.
“I … can ask,” she finally conceded. “I don’t see why, but I can ask Audacious to pass the word that I’d like the General and his party to remain, say, in the hangar. He won’t be happy about it, but he’ll probably listen.”
“Thank you,” Taggart replied, exhaling slowly. “I know I’m asking a lot.”
Colonel Finnegan raised her hand. “You really are, Captain. You, and your Chief Surgeon, damned well better have a good story to tell me.”
Tales of the Known Worlds:
2070s - The Seventy-Niners ... 3500s - Fair as Death ... 4900s - Against Improbable Odds V 1.0
2070s - The Seventy-Niners ... 3500s - Fair as Death ... 4900s - Against Improbable Odds V 1.0
Re: The Orrery (original)
Why do I have the feeling that the Audacious will end up as scattered atoms?
ASVS('97)/SDN('03)
"Whilst human alchemists refer to the combustion triangle, some of their orcish counterparts see it as more of a hexagon: heat, fuel, air, laughter, screaming, fun." Dawn of the Dragons
ASSCRAVATS!
"Whilst human alchemists refer to the combustion triangle, some of their orcish counterparts see it as more of a hexagon: heat, fuel, air, laughter, screaming, fun." Dawn of the Dragons
ASSCRAVATS!
Re: The Orrery (original)
And why to I have the very bleak feeling that's the favourable outcome at this point? Trade one capital ship for a civilization...Enigma wrote:Why do I have the feeling that the Audacious will end up as scattered atoms?
Re: The Orrery (original)
theory -earthers weren't affected becuase they've already had the illness. the nanotech has been on earth since the start, but despite the agrression we didn't destroy ourselves. (and then went on to conquor the galaxy). we know of it as a the common cold.
"Aid, trade, green technology and peace." - Hans Rosling.
"Welcome to SDN, where we can't see the forest because walking into trees repeatedly feels good, bro." - Mr Coffee
"Welcome to SDN, where we can't see the forest because walking into trees repeatedly feels good, bro." - Mr Coffee
-
GrandMasterTerwynn
- Emperor's Hand
- Posts: 6787
- Joined: 2002-07-29 06:14pm
- Location: Somewhere on Earth.
Re: The Orrery (original)
Earthers have, definitely, never encountered neither the nanotech, nor its payload. The Ancients only used Earth to collect base stocks of humans (which is why we have no cultural memories of the galactic war here,) and they also lost the location of the system sometime before the end of the war. Also, new segment!madd0ct0r wrote:theory -earthers weren't affected becuase they've already had the illness. the nanotech has been on earth since the start, but despite the agrression we didn't destroy ourselves. (and then went on to conquor the galaxy). we know of it as a the common cold.
~~~
Sean Taggart, the Imperial Starfleet’s newest Captain, knelt before a swarthy man with salt-and-pepper hair and a bristling moustache.
“You may rise, Captain Taggart,” the man said, peering at Taggart from behind dark-tinted glasses.
“Thank you, Your Ascendant Majesty,” Taggart replied, slowly rising to his feet. The man, Ascendant Emperor Shahryar I, tilted his head, the gold trim on the Imperial fez glittering in the sunlight.
“We should be thanking you,” the Emperor replied, grinning. “Not many in our Starfleet demonstrate the fortitude of character or the far-reaching ambition required to take command of a Battle Control Platform.”
“I am honored, just the same, Your Ascendant Majesty,” he replied, after a few moments. Unlike other ships in Starfleet, BCP commands were handed down the Emperor himself.
“There is one more thing we must do before you’re really in command of Number 48,” the Emperor said, nodding. He waved four men forward, each one carrying a briefcase. Their footsteps echoed off the polished, brightly-colored mosaic tile floor.
“How much do you know about Intelligences, Captain?” The Emperor asked, as they reached the center.
“I have some familiarity with them,” Taggart replied. “I did get to work closely with Margaret’s Abdul,” he added, referring to the battlecruiser he was last stationed aboard. ‘Abdul,’ was the nickname Starfleet officers gave to the generic avatar that represented the Intelligence of nearly every Imperial warship.
“Then you know the extent of their cognitive powers. The Intelligence of a BCP far exceeds anything you can comprehend. However, her trust and obedience in the office and person of the Ascendant Emperor is absolute. We hold the sole privilege of delegating that special, absolute, authority.”
Suddenly, the Emperor’s eyes were on Taggart.
“Are you prepared to accept this authority, Captain Sean Taggart? Know that should you ever specifically invoke this authority, it will become your Intelligence’s overriding directive. It is not an authority we delegate lightly.”
Taggart nodded very slowly.
“Yes, Your Ascendant Majesty,” he said, feeling his heart leap. “I am prepared to accept your delegation, and its terrible authority. I promise to defend its integrity with my life,” he said. He’d practiced that part of the script for days.
The Emperor suddenly grinned, and there was a twinkle in his eye.
“I think you’ll be in for a treat then,” he said. A small platform rose from the floor, and the four men set their briefcases down at the corners of the platform. There was a flicker of something in the middle of the platform, and then there she was. A Japanese woman dressed in resplendent Starfleet white. Her deep brown hair was short, and she studied them with dark eyes set behind rectangular glasses. Taggart’s breath immediately caught in his throat, as her eyes came to rest on his.
“I am Akemi,” she said.
Taggart couldn’t stop the corners of his lips ticking up into a smile. However, there was one more part of this ceremony for him to complete.
“And I am Captain Sean Taggart. By the authority and delegation of His Ascendant Majesty, Emperor Shahryar I, I am the Commanding Officer of Battle Control Platform 48, Akemi.”
Akemi studied him for a long moment. Slowly, a smile tugged at her lips.
“It is a pleasure to meet you … Captain.”
~~~
“Captain,” Taggart heard. He sat up with a start, feeling the cold, claw-like, hand of Doctor al-Khalid’s waldo on his shoulder. He shook his head, momentarily wondering at the significance of his dream.
“How long,” he managed, rubbing his eyes.
“About fifteen minutes,” the waldo replied. “I thought it best to let you rest, but I needed to wake you before you fell too deeply asleep.”
Taggart nodded, it’d been a very long day. The talk he, and Doctor al-Khalid, had with Colonel Finnegan was especially draining … but … they’d done it. At least she’d been convinced enough to retreat to her office to study al-Khalid’s data. In the meantime, they were waiting to hear back from the Audacious.
“Thanks,” he replied. “Any news?”
“Not yet,” the waldo replied. “I’m going to sync with Akemi to see if I have any gestalt updates for myself.”
Taggart nodded. The waldo only had a carefully-crafted subset of the personality and memories of Mehmet al-Khalid. The doctor was, physically, still aboard Akemi, supervising the testing and operation of the brain model he and Akemi compiled.
”Sean!”
“Akemi,” Sean replied, looking up.
”Something has just happened aboard the Audacious. I just intercepted a lot of encrypted comms traffic between them and the surface, and I’m trying to break it.”
Taggart lunged to his feet.
“Akemi? Has Audacious received Brigadier Sir Renton’s shuttle yet?”
”Yes. Audacious’ comms lit up a few minutes after it docked.”
Taggart nodded, thin lipped.
“Contact them, and have them put me through to our truce party,” he replied, bringing a hand up to rub the bridge of his nose. “I should’ve remembered them earlier,” he said, groaning as the memory of the truce parties he and Brigadier Sir Renton exchanged bubbled up. Both ships were obligated by the treaty of friendship to do nothing that would threaten any exchanged truce parties.
”All right. Let me see if they’re in the mood to talk.”
“Thanks, Akemi,” Taggart replied.
BAM!
BAM!
There was deep, guttural, half-groaned scream. One that cut out abruptly a moment later.
BAM!
Taggart’s head whipped around. That was from the office Colonel Finnegan retreated to.
“The Colonel! Doctor,” he said, glancing back at the waldo. Already, the robotic exoskeleton was lunging into action. Together, they threw the door open, bursting into the office.
Colonel Finnegan was lying face-up on the floor. A short distance away, Taggart glimpsed the compact, olive-drab, form of a pistol. Involuntarily, his eyes went to the Colonel’s face. The right side of her jaw looked shattered, and blood poured from her mouth and nose. Her left eye was an exploded, bloody, ruin; and her right stared straight up. A trickle of blood leaked down the side of her face from her hairline, which was matted with blood.
The waldo knelt next to her, its fingertips suddenly tapering to wicked points. Gingerly, it touched her ruined eye socket, her jaw, and then followed the trail of blood up her face.
“The nature of the exit wounds indicates that the bullet fragmented upon penetrating the floor of the cranial vault,” the waldo pronounced. “She can only survive if she’s immediately tanked for uploading.”
Taggart stared, a tiny part of his brain marvelling in horrified shock over how Colonel Finnegan was even still alive. He put his hand over his chest, staring at the dying woman.
“They … don’t have those kind of facilities here,” he said, trying desperately to look away.
“I know,” the waldo replied. Gingerly, it closed Colonel Finnegan’s one, intact, eye. Finally, Taggart could tear his own eyes away, where they could, instead, settle on the gun lying on the floor. What the hell was Colonel Finnegan thinking, in those last moments? Was Doctor al-Khalid’s data that upsetting?
No, there had to be something else.
But what?
”Sean?”
Taggart took a deep breath, trying to compose himself.
“Yes, Akemi?”
”I can’t raise the Audacious, even though all their systems appear to be normal,” Akemi replied. There seemed to be a certain sense of pain her her voice. ”I’ve decrypted their message traffic … and there’s an embedded video stream, Sean. I’m … sending it to you now.”
Tales of the Known Worlds:
2070s - The Seventy-Niners ... 3500s - Fair as Death ... 4900s - Against Improbable Odds V 1.0
2070s - The Seventy-Niners ... 3500s - Fair as Death ... 4900s - Against Improbable Odds V 1.0
-
GrandMasterTerwynn
- Emperor's Hand
- Posts: 6787
- Joined: 2002-07-29 06:14pm
- Location: Somewhere on Earth.
Re: The Orrery (original)
In today's chapter, everything gets immeasurably worse, before ... a glimmer of hope appears?
~~~
Taggart found himself staring at a long row of gleaming white domes with tiny windows set into their apexes. They were the tops of Commonwealth utility shuttles in the hangar of the Audacious. One of them was surrounded by men and women in the dark green uniforms of the Royal Navy. The harsh lighting of the hangar glinted off the acrylic domes of their helmets.
He quickly realized that had to be Brigadier Sir Renton’s shuttle, and he felt momentarily grateful that the Audacious was willing to listen to the late Colonel Finnegan.
It was a gratitude that was very short-lived. One of the airlocks on the face of the shuttle slid open, and the gathered Royal Navy personnel stared apprehensively at it.
BAM!
A helmet became a cracked mess of splattered blood and brains, and its owner tumbled lifelessly. The others started to scatter, as more gunfire rang out, and blood splattered the polished, bright-gray, floor.
“Hardsuit team to Hangar Four! Hardsuit team to Hanga … “ someone shouted, their words dying in a scream.
There was a blur of motion as something leapt from the airlock. Taggart got a brief look, as the thing landed. It was a naked young man … the same one he’d seen some hours before. The smartgun cradled in his arms looked impossibly huge for someone not wearing a combat hardsuit. Every square centimeter of his skin looked to be splashed with blood, or streaked with scratches and cuts.
Suddenly, he was in motion, too quick to see clearly. A blur of limbs, and bright flashes, as his weapon barked over and over, and he dashed from victim to victim. He started to lunge down the length of the hangar, seeming to fire randomly at anything he imagined was moving.
There was a loud crash at the far end of the hangar, as looming, blocky, figures thundered onto the deck. They were wearing combat hardsuits of the Commonwealth Royal Marines, and they also carried smartguns, and even a pair of, what had to be, man-portable lasers.
“You there! Throw down your weapon, and get on the ground,” an amplified voice thundered across the vast space.
Suddenly, one of the Marines staggered, clutching at the ruined face of his helmet. Another one followed, an instant later. The Marines responded with a fusillade of gunfire, the floor around their target exploding in puffs of sintered metal fragments. Somehow, none of the shots really connected; save for one, which sent the man’s arm whipsawing back at an unnatural angle.
Still, though, he fired at them. There was a bright flash, as a shot tore through a Marine’s power-pack, and then another Marine staggered, as the man used his good arm to jam the muzzle of his weapon between the Marine’s helmet and shoulders, sending blood and gore flying.
There were a series of brilliant flashes, a sound like frying bacon, and the young man was down. He was in two, large, pieces; his hips separated from the rest of his torso. However, he crawled toward them, even as his laser-seared intestines spilled from his torso and began to leak blood and fluids.
With a thunderous roar, the remaining Marines’ smartguns spoke … almost as one … and the man’s head simply ceased to be.
~~~
Taggart sagged into the uncomfortable chair, feeling sick. Next to him, Doctor al-Khalid’s waldo lay, unnaturally contorted, after one of the Commonwealth’s security contractors had forcibly deactivated it. His scalp itched. He wanted to scratch it, but the handcuffs wouldn’t let him. As had the assurances that if he tried to remove the RF-shielding hood he now wore, they’d simply shoot him, diplomacy be damned.
They’d stormed in, taken one look at Colonel Finnegan, and simply assumed the worst. A small part of him couldn’t blame them. It looked very suspicious, if one were in a paranoid mindset. That they’d seen footage from the Audacious, like the clip Akemi sent him, simply stretched their nerves to the breaking point.
He swallowed, and forced himself to breathe slowly. He couldn’t reach Akemi with the hood on, and he couldn’t assume they weren’t watching for stray RF. He knew nothing of what was going on with the Audacious. Worse, he had to assume that the security contractors were infected, just like everyone else.
“Why?” He said, softly. “What’s the point?”
Was this one last parting gift from their ancient “Gods”? One more kick in the teeth, to make sure their former thralls stayed down for another few thousand years?
But, that didn’t make sense, did it? If that were the purpose behind this facility … then Taggart had to think that they’d have built one on all the inhabited planets.
Well, maybe they were assuming their former thralls would carry the infection back to their home planets? No, that couldn’t be it either. Earth had its share of pandemics, and so did the various peoples of the Commonwealth. Anything virulent enough to wreak havoc on a large scale was also so virulent that it burned out quickly, after exterminating whatever local population first ran into it. Also, medical science had come a long way from the almost-mythical ravages of the “Black Death” on pre-Interregnum Earth.
So why?
And what was he going to do about it? What could he do about it? Akemi could certainly scour this entire installation down to bedrock. The only hiccup would be Audacious, but what was it Akemi said … that Brigadier Sir Renton had no idea just how badly outclassed he was?
So, the Empire, in the form of Captain Sean Taggart and his Battle Control Platform, could put a stop to whatever this was. In the process, they’d also burn a treaty of friendship that’d been in force for centuries, sparking a war that could easily kill tens of billions. The Empire would win, but that would be an outcome that could take centuries to arrive at. And then they’d be exquisitely vulnerable to the alien intelligences who would come up with a trap like the Orrery.
Taggart groaned, trying to will his thoughts into silence. He couldn’t think of things like that. He had to focus one one thing … getting out of this place.
Just then, the room plunged into darkness. Taggart froze, not daring to breathe. As he stared out into the darkness, the far end of the room began to glow. Soon, a translucent, glowing figure in Commonwealth green appeared.
“Captain Sean Taggart?”
“Um, yes, that would be me,” Taggart replied, exhaling sharply.
“I am Colonel Winston Holmes, previously the Executive Officer of the HMS Audacious,” the figure replied. He was an older man, with wavy blonde-gray hair. His green eyes looked very tired.
“Previously,” Taggart echoed, catching the strange phrasing. “Where is Brigadier Sir Renton?”
“I ask the questions here, Imperial,” Colonel Holmes replied. A moment later, his expression softened. “I’m sorry. It’s been a very difficult evening. You see, Captain, Brigadier Sir Timothy Renton is dead, as are nearly twenty other Royal Navy personnel,” he looked away for a moment, and scowled. “Your truce party is safe, Captain. We’ve extracted assurances from your Commander Heifetz that our people are safe too.”
“Sir Renton’s dead,” Taggart said. “How?”
Colonel Holmes stared silently at Taggart, with his lips still curled into a scowl. He then exhaled sharply.
“It was the prisoner he brought back with him. We’re reviewing the shuttle’s security log, and it looks like the Brigadier had the prisoner’s overstim deactivated … I think he wanted to ask some questions.”
“And then the prisoner woke up,” Taggart said, softly.
“Yes,” Colonel Holmes replied. “The security feed ends shortly after that, but I can assure you, the inside of the shuttle looks like an abattoir … so, honestly, I’m a bit grateful it did.”
Taggart nodded slowly.
“Did you get Colonel Finnegan’s message?”
Colonel Holmes narrowed his eyes. “Certainly, Captain; she warned me you Imperials thought there might be reason to confine them to their ship. She didn’t warn me they were bringing up a madman!” His expression darkened further. “I would dearly have loved to speak to her further … rather inconvenient, then, that she turns up dead; of an apparent suicide.”
“We had nothing to do with that, Colonel,” Taggart replied, wanting to lunge to his feet. It felt like a silly gesture, especially while wearing handcuffs, and what some would’ve called a “gimp mask.”
“I believe you, Captain,” Colonel Holmes said, shaking his head. “Audacious’ security people will try to convince the local contractors of that. Our Chief Surgeon assures me that the imagery she’s seen makes it difficult to believe that it could’ve been anything but suicide,” Holmes looked down again. “Well, I suppose she’s my Chief Surgeon now, isn’t she?”
“I’m sorry,” Taggart replied. “And, thank you.”
“Don’t thank me,” Colonel Holmes said, his tone abrupt. “This has been one unmitigated clusterfuck, and it only promises to get worse. I’m not going to take any chances. I’ve just sent Audacious’s dispatch boat off with everything I have so far.”
“No,” Taggart whispered, feeling his heart skip a beat.
“I beg your pardon?”
Taggart cleared his throat. “Contamination,” he said.
Colonel Holmes clenched his jaw.
“Don’t you worry about that, Captain. The Brigadier already had the boat’s crew buttoned up on launch standby for the last day. He was, apparently, planning to send the dispatch boat away for some other reason … whatever it was, it wasn’t in his emergency brief.”
Taggart felt himself relax slightly.
“What about the rest of you?”
Colonel Holmes shook his head. “My Chief Surgeon, Major Santiago, suggested that I take the ship to Condition Zulu. An easy call to make … after seeing what happened in Hangar Four.”
Taggart nodded. Audacious was buttoned-up for combat. It was now a collection of isolated compartments that just happened to share a hull.
“We won’t know if we’ve done it in time for a while,” Colonel Holmes continued. “But we have more safeguards up here than they do down there.”
Taggart pursed his lips, not yet willing to believe that Audacious was really secure.
“Have you managed to contact Doctor Guillarmod yet?”
Colonel Holmes shook his head.
“No, Captain,” he replied. “They keep telling me he’s not to be disturbed,” he added, falling silent, as he looked away for several moments. “If they keep stonewalling me, I’m putting measures in place to take control.”
“Measures?”
“Yes, Captain, measures,” Colonel Holmes replied. “If you will excuse me, I’m going to call the security office down there again.”
With that, darkness returned, only to be replaced by soft light, a few moments later. Taggart shifted in his seat. His scalp really itched under that hood now, and it was only made worse by his growing sense of dread.
~~~
Taggart found himself staring at a long row of gleaming white domes with tiny windows set into their apexes. They were the tops of Commonwealth utility shuttles in the hangar of the Audacious. One of them was surrounded by men and women in the dark green uniforms of the Royal Navy. The harsh lighting of the hangar glinted off the acrylic domes of their helmets.
He quickly realized that had to be Brigadier Sir Renton’s shuttle, and he felt momentarily grateful that the Audacious was willing to listen to the late Colonel Finnegan.
It was a gratitude that was very short-lived. One of the airlocks on the face of the shuttle slid open, and the gathered Royal Navy personnel stared apprehensively at it.
BAM!
A helmet became a cracked mess of splattered blood and brains, and its owner tumbled lifelessly. The others started to scatter, as more gunfire rang out, and blood splattered the polished, bright-gray, floor.
“Hardsuit team to Hangar Four! Hardsuit team to Hanga … “ someone shouted, their words dying in a scream.
There was a blur of motion as something leapt from the airlock. Taggart got a brief look, as the thing landed. It was a naked young man … the same one he’d seen some hours before. The smartgun cradled in his arms looked impossibly huge for someone not wearing a combat hardsuit. Every square centimeter of his skin looked to be splashed with blood, or streaked with scratches and cuts.
Suddenly, he was in motion, too quick to see clearly. A blur of limbs, and bright flashes, as his weapon barked over and over, and he dashed from victim to victim. He started to lunge down the length of the hangar, seeming to fire randomly at anything he imagined was moving.
There was a loud crash at the far end of the hangar, as looming, blocky, figures thundered onto the deck. They were wearing combat hardsuits of the Commonwealth Royal Marines, and they also carried smartguns, and even a pair of, what had to be, man-portable lasers.
“You there! Throw down your weapon, and get on the ground,” an amplified voice thundered across the vast space.
Suddenly, one of the Marines staggered, clutching at the ruined face of his helmet. Another one followed, an instant later. The Marines responded with a fusillade of gunfire, the floor around their target exploding in puffs of sintered metal fragments. Somehow, none of the shots really connected; save for one, which sent the man’s arm whipsawing back at an unnatural angle.
Still, though, he fired at them. There was a bright flash, as a shot tore through a Marine’s power-pack, and then another Marine staggered, as the man used his good arm to jam the muzzle of his weapon between the Marine’s helmet and shoulders, sending blood and gore flying.
There were a series of brilliant flashes, a sound like frying bacon, and the young man was down. He was in two, large, pieces; his hips separated from the rest of his torso. However, he crawled toward them, even as his laser-seared intestines spilled from his torso and began to leak blood and fluids.
With a thunderous roar, the remaining Marines’ smartguns spoke … almost as one … and the man’s head simply ceased to be.
~~~
Taggart sagged into the uncomfortable chair, feeling sick. Next to him, Doctor al-Khalid’s waldo lay, unnaturally contorted, after one of the Commonwealth’s security contractors had forcibly deactivated it. His scalp itched. He wanted to scratch it, but the handcuffs wouldn’t let him. As had the assurances that if he tried to remove the RF-shielding hood he now wore, they’d simply shoot him, diplomacy be damned.
They’d stormed in, taken one look at Colonel Finnegan, and simply assumed the worst. A small part of him couldn’t blame them. It looked very suspicious, if one were in a paranoid mindset. That they’d seen footage from the Audacious, like the clip Akemi sent him, simply stretched their nerves to the breaking point.
He swallowed, and forced himself to breathe slowly. He couldn’t reach Akemi with the hood on, and he couldn’t assume they weren’t watching for stray RF. He knew nothing of what was going on with the Audacious. Worse, he had to assume that the security contractors were infected, just like everyone else.
“Why?” He said, softly. “What’s the point?”
Was this one last parting gift from their ancient “Gods”? One more kick in the teeth, to make sure their former thralls stayed down for another few thousand years?
But, that didn’t make sense, did it? If that were the purpose behind this facility … then Taggart had to think that they’d have built one on all the inhabited planets.
Well, maybe they were assuming their former thralls would carry the infection back to their home planets? No, that couldn’t be it either. Earth had its share of pandemics, and so did the various peoples of the Commonwealth. Anything virulent enough to wreak havoc on a large scale was also so virulent that it burned out quickly, after exterminating whatever local population first ran into it. Also, medical science had come a long way from the almost-mythical ravages of the “Black Death” on pre-Interregnum Earth.
So why?
And what was he going to do about it? What could he do about it? Akemi could certainly scour this entire installation down to bedrock. The only hiccup would be Audacious, but what was it Akemi said … that Brigadier Sir Renton had no idea just how badly outclassed he was?
So, the Empire, in the form of Captain Sean Taggart and his Battle Control Platform, could put a stop to whatever this was. In the process, they’d also burn a treaty of friendship that’d been in force for centuries, sparking a war that could easily kill tens of billions. The Empire would win, but that would be an outcome that could take centuries to arrive at. And then they’d be exquisitely vulnerable to the alien intelligences who would come up with a trap like the Orrery.
Taggart groaned, trying to will his thoughts into silence. He couldn’t think of things like that. He had to focus one one thing … getting out of this place.
Just then, the room plunged into darkness. Taggart froze, not daring to breathe. As he stared out into the darkness, the far end of the room began to glow. Soon, a translucent, glowing figure in Commonwealth green appeared.
“Captain Sean Taggart?”
“Um, yes, that would be me,” Taggart replied, exhaling sharply.
“I am Colonel Winston Holmes, previously the Executive Officer of the HMS Audacious,” the figure replied. He was an older man, with wavy blonde-gray hair. His green eyes looked very tired.
“Previously,” Taggart echoed, catching the strange phrasing. “Where is Brigadier Sir Renton?”
“I ask the questions here, Imperial,” Colonel Holmes replied. A moment later, his expression softened. “I’m sorry. It’s been a very difficult evening. You see, Captain, Brigadier Sir Timothy Renton is dead, as are nearly twenty other Royal Navy personnel,” he looked away for a moment, and scowled. “Your truce party is safe, Captain. We’ve extracted assurances from your Commander Heifetz that our people are safe too.”
“Sir Renton’s dead,” Taggart said. “How?”
Colonel Holmes stared silently at Taggart, with his lips still curled into a scowl. He then exhaled sharply.
“It was the prisoner he brought back with him. We’re reviewing the shuttle’s security log, and it looks like the Brigadier had the prisoner’s overstim deactivated … I think he wanted to ask some questions.”
“And then the prisoner woke up,” Taggart said, softly.
“Yes,” Colonel Holmes replied. “The security feed ends shortly after that, but I can assure you, the inside of the shuttle looks like an abattoir … so, honestly, I’m a bit grateful it did.”
Taggart nodded slowly.
“Did you get Colonel Finnegan’s message?”
Colonel Holmes narrowed his eyes. “Certainly, Captain; she warned me you Imperials thought there might be reason to confine them to their ship. She didn’t warn me they were bringing up a madman!” His expression darkened further. “I would dearly have loved to speak to her further … rather inconvenient, then, that she turns up dead; of an apparent suicide.”
“We had nothing to do with that, Colonel,” Taggart replied, wanting to lunge to his feet. It felt like a silly gesture, especially while wearing handcuffs, and what some would’ve called a “gimp mask.”
“I believe you, Captain,” Colonel Holmes said, shaking his head. “Audacious’ security people will try to convince the local contractors of that. Our Chief Surgeon assures me that the imagery she’s seen makes it difficult to believe that it could’ve been anything but suicide,” Holmes looked down again. “Well, I suppose she’s my Chief Surgeon now, isn’t she?”
“I’m sorry,” Taggart replied. “And, thank you.”
“Don’t thank me,” Colonel Holmes said, his tone abrupt. “This has been one unmitigated clusterfuck, and it only promises to get worse. I’m not going to take any chances. I’ve just sent Audacious’s dispatch boat off with everything I have so far.”
“No,” Taggart whispered, feeling his heart skip a beat.
“I beg your pardon?”
Taggart cleared his throat. “Contamination,” he said.
Colonel Holmes clenched his jaw.
“Don’t you worry about that, Captain. The Brigadier already had the boat’s crew buttoned up on launch standby for the last day. He was, apparently, planning to send the dispatch boat away for some other reason … whatever it was, it wasn’t in his emergency brief.”
Taggart felt himself relax slightly.
“What about the rest of you?”
Colonel Holmes shook his head. “My Chief Surgeon, Major Santiago, suggested that I take the ship to Condition Zulu. An easy call to make … after seeing what happened in Hangar Four.”
Taggart nodded. Audacious was buttoned-up for combat. It was now a collection of isolated compartments that just happened to share a hull.
“We won’t know if we’ve done it in time for a while,” Colonel Holmes continued. “But we have more safeguards up here than they do down there.”
Taggart pursed his lips, not yet willing to believe that Audacious was really secure.
“Have you managed to contact Doctor Guillarmod yet?”
Colonel Holmes shook his head.
“No, Captain,” he replied. “They keep telling me he’s not to be disturbed,” he added, falling silent, as he looked away for several moments. “If they keep stonewalling me, I’m putting measures in place to take control.”
“Measures?”
“Yes, Captain, measures,” Colonel Holmes replied. “If you will excuse me, I’m going to call the security office down there again.”
With that, darkness returned, only to be replaced by soft light, a few moments later. Taggart shifted in his seat. His scalp really itched under that hood now, and it was only made worse by his growing sense of dread.
Tales of the Known Worlds:
2070s - The Seventy-Niners ... 3500s - Fair as Death ... 4900s - Against Improbable Odds V 1.0
2070s - The Seventy-Niners ... 3500s - Fair as Death ... 4900s - Against Improbable Odds V 1.0
Re: The Orrery (original)
Damn. Something hot-wired that kid to be a killing machine.
Me: Nope, that's why I have you around to tell me.
Nitram: You -are- beautiful. Anyone tries to tell you otherwise kill them.
"A life is like a garden. Perfect moments can be had, but not preserved, except in memory. LLAP" -- Leonard Nimoy, last Tweet
-
GrandMasterTerwynn
- Emperor's Hand
- Posts: 6787
- Joined: 2002-07-29 06:14pm
- Location: Somewhere on Earth.
Re: The Orrery (original)
“Hold still, Imperial,” a man with close-cropped blonde hair said, yanking Taggart’s hood off. There were a couple other men in the room with him, and one held a mass of plastic and wires. “We’ve been directed to take you, and that thing with you, back to your guest suite,” he continued, gesturing toward the disabled waldo.
“I appreciate it,” Taggart said, rising to his feet. The man with the mass of plastic and wires knelt down over the waldo, reinstalling the wires into a gaping hole in its back.
Click.
“Urg … merfatz … ergror … uf, “ the waldo said. The waldo sat up, the jagged edges of the plastic slowly fusing together.
“Taggart, Captain,” it added, in Doctor al-Khalid’s voice.
“Are you all right, Doctor?” Taggart said, mindful of the eyes on him.
“Adequate, yes,” the waldo replied. “Problem, aphasia. Possible, it should be not.”
“Can you walk?” Taggart said, frowning. The waldo slowly extended into a standing position, its limbs moving hesitantly.
“Enough well,” it replied.
“That’s good enough for me,” the blonde man said. “Both of you, get moving.”
They picked their way down the corridor, with Taggart and the waldo surrounded by security contractors.
“What happens when we get to my suite?”
“You stay there until we say otherwise,” the blonde man replied.
Taggart pursed his lips. “So I’m still a prisoner, then?”
“Yep,” was the reply. “But, think of it this way, it’s better than where you’ve been.”
Taggart nodded, tight-lipped.
“Am I allowed to contact my ship?”
“You may do anything you like, as long as you don’t leave that suite,” the blonde man replied through clenched teeth.
“That’s all I needed to know, thank you,” Taggart said.
Akemi? Are you there?
Silence. Taggart frowned, but kept walking.
“Hey!” A young man said, lunging around the corner, and marching straight up to the blonde man. “Have you found the swords yet?”
“What?” The blonde man replied, taking a step back.
“The swords,” the young man repeated. “They’re missing from our lab! I contacted you people about this an hour ago!”
“We have a lot going on,” the blonde man replied. “Someone will let you know when we’ve recovered them.”
“Well hurry,” the young man said, taking a moment to wipe his brow, “we are doing important work!”
With that, he turned away, lurching back the way he came.
“The swords are missing,” Taggart repeated.
“Yes, yes,” the blonde man replied. “I’m sure they’ll turn up, though,” he added. Taggart frowned at the man’s apparent nonchalance, but didn’t dare say anything about it. In fact, he kept silent for the rest of the walk, and remained silent until the door slid shut behind the security people.
“Doctor,” he said, turning to the waldo. “How are you feeling?”
“Better,” the waldo replied, tilting its black dome toward him. “Power surge … scrambled things. Time … need time to sort out my mind.”
Taggart nodded, tight-lipped. “Do you know of what’s going on, on the outside?”
“No,” the waldo replied. “Calling … for gestalt update. Silence received only.”
“So it’s not just me, then,” Taggart replied, sitting on the edge of his bed.
Akemi … where are you?
“I am … to sleep for … short while,” the waldo said, taking the chair opposite him. “Allow control software reorganize.”
Taggart nodded.
“Get your rest, Doctor,” he replied. “I’ve got a feeling I’m going to need you alert soon.”
“Thank you,” the waldo said. Taggart stared at it for a minute, but it made no further movements, or efforts to speak. He got up off the bed, crossing the room and looking down at the waldo’s back. The place where they’d forcibly cut out the main power relay looked pristine and untouched, that was the miracle of self-healing plastic.
“Akemi,” he said into the air. “Are you listening?”
He paced back to his bed, sitting down.
“Akemi,” he repeated, looking up at the ceiling. “Where are you?”
This was beyond weird … Taggart knew the relay constellation was up, so it wouldn’t take Akemi more than a fraction of a second to hear him … even if she was on the other side of the planet.
Yet, all that greeted him was silence. He fell back onto his bed, closing his eyes. He reached out, straining with his cybernetic senses, trying to hear even the faintest hint of mental static that would tell him that the connection between him and Akemi were still alive.
What was that?
Taggart thought he heard something.
Akemi?
Silence.
He tried to focus. He tried to catch that something that he thought he'd caught before.
He next found himself seated at the featureless steel table. But everything seemed so ... dark ... yes, dark. It felt like there were a spotlight, and its harsh glare rested on his shoulders.
“Akemi!” Taggart shouted into the darkness, his eyes starting to dart back and forth. Was the darkness moving?
“Akemi!”
The darkness seemed to be subtly shifting, and Taggart began to get the feeling that he was being watched.
“Akemi ...”
There ... in the darkness.
Taggart swore he could ... just ... make out a humanoid silhouette in the inky blackness.
No ... that's not right, is it?
“Who's there?” Taggart said to the darkness. As his eyes adjusted to it, he could almost swear that he could glimpse two figures, both at the very edge of his perception.
“Akemi? Say something!” He said, taking a breath, and swallowing hard. “Whoever is out there, say something!”
”Interesting.”
~~~
“Captain!”
Taggart's eyes slowly opened.
“Captain! You must wake up!”
Doctor al-Khalid? What?
Taggart's eyes shot open, as he felt stabbing pain in his shoulder. Instantly, the fog of sleep was dispelled, and he felt his heart thundering in his chest. His head snapped over, seeing the sharp talons of the waldo's claws digging into his shoulder. He snapped back, staring into the deep onyx of the waldo's head.
“Captain! Are you awake now?”
Taggart nodded quickly, and the waldo withdrew its hand.
“We must get out of here, I've made a terrible mistake,” it said, standing up.
“Why ... what's going on?” Taggart said, sitting up as well, the memories of ... was that a dream ... still haunting him.
“I got a partial gestalt update from myself,” the waldo replied. “A feeling of profound terror, and then it was suddenly cut off. There is data associated with it, but it's going to take me time to digest it all.”
Taggart jumped to his feet, feeling his connection to Akemi. Feeling nothing but icy silence. He took a breath and adjusted his collar.
“You said something about a mistake, Doctor. What were you talking about?”
“A mis ... I said that,” the waldo replied.
“Yes,” Taggart replied, turning to the waldo, and grabbing its shoulders. “You said that we have to get out of here, and that you've made a terrible mistake.”
“That ... may have come down with the update,” the waldo said. “I'm still parsing the memetic data, Captain, you must give me time.”
Taggart nodded. “Well, I think I agree with the sentiment, wherever it came from. I haven't been able to raise Akemi on our private channel.”
“Hmm,” the waldo replied. “Have you tried raising Akemi?”
Taggart caught the change in intonation.
“All right,” he said, clearing his throat.
“Command,” he shouted into the air. “This is the Captain. I can't access the sideband. Please respond?”
He suddenly found himself clutching his head in his hands, even though he knew the gesture was useless. The wailing, chattering, hiss was coming from inside his head.
“... the ... locked ... not ... Heifetz ... “
“Command! Repeat your last!”
”the Emperor ... locked out ... return ... ship ... Audacious ... clear!”
The Audacious? Taggart scowled ... did the Audacious have something to do with this?
“We're being jammed,” he said, turning to the waldo. “I think we have to get back to Akemi.”
“I won't disagree,” the waldo replied, “but how?”
“You're using one of Mansoor's waldos,” Taggart said, staring past the robotic exoskeleton. “There should be some autonomous combat software in there. You could tap into that.”
“I haven't handled a sidearm since Basic,” the waldo replied.
“You're not listening,” Taggart started to say, as the waldo raised a hand, cutting him off.
“I was,” the waldo replied. “I had the driver firmware overwritten with that of a commercial waldo, before uploading my gestalt. I needed the space, and didn't want to worry about being overriden by Mansoor. This waldo has no more combat capability than I do.”
Taggart pressed his lips together in a tight, thin, line.
“Okay ... we'll try to talk our way out,” he finally said. “But if things get rough, your waldo will probably end up drawing fire.”
The waldo regarded him silently, for a few moments, before tilting its domed head to the side.
“That will be ... most unfortunate,” it replied. Doctor al-Khalid's voice seemed oddly muted. “I am starting to get more from this gestalt update ... and it is making me think that this,” a single, robotic, talon tapped the side of the onyx dome, “may be all that remains of me.”
“I appreciate it,” Taggart said, rising to his feet. The man with the mass of plastic and wires knelt down over the waldo, reinstalling the wires into a gaping hole in its back.
Click.
“Urg … merfatz … ergror … uf, “ the waldo said. The waldo sat up, the jagged edges of the plastic slowly fusing together.
“Taggart, Captain,” it added, in Doctor al-Khalid’s voice.
“Are you all right, Doctor?” Taggart said, mindful of the eyes on him.
“Adequate, yes,” the waldo replied. “Problem, aphasia. Possible, it should be not.”
“Can you walk?” Taggart said, frowning. The waldo slowly extended into a standing position, its limbs moving hesitantly.
“Enough well,” it replied.
“That’s good enough for me,” the blonde man said. “Both of you, get moving.”
They picked their way down the corridor, with Taggart and the waldo surrounded by security contractors.
“What happens when we get to my suite?”
“You stay there until we say otherwise,” the blonde man replied.
Taggart pursed his lips. “So I’m still a prisoner, then?”
“Yep,” was the reply. “But, think of it this way, it’s better than where you’ve been.”
Taggart nodded, tight-lipped.
“Am I allowed to contact my ship?”
“You may do anything you like, as long as you don’t leave that suite,” the blonde man replied through clenched teeth.
“That’s all I needed to know, thank you,” Taggart said.
Akemi? Are you there?
Silence. Taggart frowned, but kept walking.
“Hey!” A young man said, lunging around the corner, and marching straight up to the blonde man. “Have you found the swords yet?”
“What?” The blonde man replied, taking a step back.
“The swords,” the young man repeated. “They’re missing from our lab! I contacted you people about this an hour ago!”
“We have a lot going on,” the blonde man replied. “Someone will let you know when we’ve recovered them.”
“Well hurry,” the young man said, taking a moment to wipe his brow, “we are doing important work!”
With that, he turned away, lurching back the way he came.
“The swords are missing,” Taggart repeated.
“Yes, yes,” the blonde man replied. “I’m sure they’ll turn up, though,” he added. Taggart frowned at the man’s apparent nonchalance, but didn’t dare say anything about it. In fact, he kept silent for the rest of the walk, and remained silent until the door slid shut behind the security people.
“Doctor,” he said, turning to the waldo. “How are you feeling?”
“Better,” the waldo replied, tilting its black dome toward him. “Power surge … scrambled things. Time … need time to sort out my mind.”
Taggart nodded, tight-lipped. “Do you know of what’s going on, on the outside?”
“No,” the waldo replied. “Calling … for gestalt update. Silence received only.”
“So it’s not just me, then,” Taggart replied, sitting on the edge of his bed.
Akemi … where are you?
“I am … to sleep for … short while,” the waldo said, taking the chair opposite him. “Allow control software reorganize.”
Taggart nodded.
“Get your rest, Doctor,” he replied. “I’ve got a feeling I’m going to need you alert soon.”
“Thank you,” the waldo said. Taggart stared at it for a minute, but it made no further movements, or efforts to speak. He got up off the bed, crossing the room and looking down at the waldo’s back. The place where they’d forcibly cut out the main power relay looked pristine and untouched, that was the miracle of self-healing plastic.
“Akemi,” he said into the air. “Are you listening?”
He paced back to his bed, sitting down.
“Akemi,” he repeated, looking up at the ceiling. “Where are you?”
This was beyond weird … Taggart knew the relay constellation was up, so it wouldn’t take Akemi more than a fraction of a second to hear him … even if she was on the other side of the planet.
Yet, all that greeted him was silence. He fell back onto his bed, closing his eyes. He reached out, straining with his cybernetic senses, trying to hear even the faintest hint of mental static that would tell him that the connection between him and Akemi were still alive.
What was that?
Taggart thought he heard something.
Akemi?
Silence.
He tried to focus. He tried to catch that something that he thought he'd caught before.
He next found himself seated at the featureless steel table. But everything seemed so ... dark ... yes, dark. It felt like there were a spotlight, and its harsh glare rested on his shoulders.
“Akemi!” Taggart shouted into the darkness, his eyes starting to dart back and forth. Was the darkness moving?
“Akemi!”
The darkness seemed to be subtly shifting, and Taggart began to get the feeling that he was being watched.
“Akemi ...”
There ... in the darkness.
Taggart swore he could ... just ... make out a humanoid silhouette in the inky blackness.
No ... that's not right, is it?
“Who's there?” Taggart said to the darkness. As his eyes adjusted to it, he could almost swear that he could glimpse two figures, both at the very edge of his perception.
“Akemi? Say something!” He said, taking a breath, and swallowing hard. “Whoever is out there, say something!”
”Interesting.”
~~~
“Captain!”
Taggart's eyes slowly opened.
“Captain! You must wake up!”
Doctor al-Khalid? What?
Taggart's eyes shot open, as he felt stabbing pain in his shoulder. Instantly, the fog of sleep was dispelled, and he felt his heart thundering in his chest. His head snapped over, seeing the sharp talons of the waldo's claws digging into his shoulder. He snapped back, staring into the deep onyx of the waldo's head.
“Captain! Are you awake now?”
Taggart nodded quickly, and the waldo withdrew its hand.
“We must get out of here, I've made a terrible mistake,” it said, standing up.
“Why ... what's going on?” Taggart said, sitting up as well, the memories of ... was that a dream ... still haunting him.
“I got a partial gestalt update from myself,” the waldo replied. “A feeling of profound terror, and then it was suddenly cut off. There is data associated with it, but it's going to take me time to digest it all.”
Taggart jumped to his feet, feeling his connection to Akemi. Feeling nothing but icy silence. He took a breath and adjusted his collar.
“You said something about a mistake, Doctor. What were you talking about?”
“A mis ... I said that,” the waldo replied.
“Yes,” Taggart replied, turning to the waldo, and grabbing its shoulders. “You said that we have to get out of here, and that you've made a terrible mistake.”
“That ... may have come down with the update,” the waldo said. “I'm still parsing the memetic data, Captain, you must give me time.”
Taggart nodded. “Well, I think I agree with the sentiment, wherever it came from. I haven't been able to raise Akemi on our private channel.”
“Hmm,” the waldo replied. “Have you tried raising Akemi?”
Taggart caught the change in intonation.
“All right,” he said, clearing his throat.
“Command,” he shouted into the air. “This is the Captain. I can't access the sideband. Please respond?”
He suddenly found himself clutching his head in his hands, even though he knew the gesture was useless. The wailing, chattering, hiss was coming from inside his head.
“... the ... locked ... not ... Heifetz ... “
“Command! Repeat your last!”
”the Emperor ... locked out ... return ... ship ... Audacious ... clear!”
The Audacious? Taggart scowled ... did the Audacious have something to do with this?
“We're being jammed,” he said, turning to the waldo. “I think we have to get back to Akemi.”
“I won't disagree,” the waldo replied, “but how?”
“You're using one of Mansoor's waldos,” Taggart said, staring past the robotic exoskeleton. “There should be some autonomous combat software in there. You could tap into that.”
“I haven't handled a sidearm since Basic,” the waldo replied.
“You're not listening,” Taggart started to say, as the waldo raised a hand, cutting him off.
“I was,” the waldo replied. “I had the driver firmware overwritten with that of a commercial waldo, before uploading my gestalt. I needed the space, and didn't want to worry about being overriden by Mansoor. This waldo has no more combat capability than I do.”
Taggart pressed his lips together in a tight, thin, line.
“Okay ... we'll try to talk our way out,” he finally said. “But if things get rough, your waldo will probably end up drawing fire.”
The waldo regarded him silently, for a few moments, before tilting its domed head to the side.
“That will be ... most unfortunate,” it replied. Doctor al-Khalid's voice seemed oddly muted. “I am starting to get more from this gestalt update ... and it is making me think that this,” a single, robotic, talon tapped the side of the onyx dome, “may be all that remains of me.”
Tales of the Known Worlds:
2070s - The Seventy-Niners ... 3500s - Fair as Death ... 4900s - Against Improbable Odds V 1.0
2070s - The Seventy-Niners ... 3500s - Fair as Death ... 4900s - Against Improbable Odds V 1.0
Re: The Orrery (original)
Oh shit. Shit shit shit shit shit.
Looks like we don't even need one - we've already got manic shipmates-gone-feral killing machines who ignore lethal wounds.Borgholio wrote:Crossover with the (sadly defunct) All The Lost Little Girls and Boys?what twists you might have in store
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GrandMasterTerwynn
- Emperor's Hand
- Posts: 6787
- Joined: 2002-07-29 06:14pm
- Location: Somewhere on Earth.
Re: The Orrery (original)
“Doctor Van Hoeck,” Taggart said into the air, adjusting his uniform. Doctor al-Khalid’s waldo stood nearby, silent.
“Captain Taggart, it’s good to hear your voice!” Doctor Van Hoeck replied, a few moments later. Taggart frowned at the tone of the other man’s voice.
“What’s going on out there, Doctor?”
“I’ve ordered my people to remain in their quarters,” Doctor Van Hoeck’s mental voice replied. “Our colleagues have been … quarrelsome, to say the least.”
“Anything as bad as earlier?” Taggart said, putting on his uniform overcoat. It was a bulky garment, woven with anti-ballistic weave, and strips of impact armor.
”Not yet,” Doctor Van Hoeck replied. ”There are a lot of people wanting to pick arguments, though.”
“Hmm,” Taggart said, rubbing his chin. “Have you been able to get a hold of Doctor Guillarmod about this, by any chance?”
”No I haven’t, Captain. And that’s the strange thing … I tried Guillarmod, and I’ve tried all the other senior researchers. And every goddamn one I’ve tried appears to be inside the Orrery, leaving behind angry grad students who insisted they weren’t to be disturbed.”
“Right,” Taggart replied. “That squares with what I’ve experienced.”
”It’s getting freaky out there, Captain. I hate to ask this of you, but I’m really thinking of having my people evacuated back to the Akemi.”
“I haven’t been able to raise her,” Taggart replied. “I think the Commonwealth may be jamming my communications. I’m going to try to get back to Akemi, in person, and then I think I’m going to send down the Jandarma,” he added, clenching his jaw. “The time for diplomacy is over.”
”All right, Captain,” Doctor Van Hoeck replied, a few moments later. ”Be careful out there.”
“Thanks,” Taggart said. “You stay safe as well.” He then turned to face the waldo.
“Doctor? Are you ready?”
“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” the waldo replied.
Taggart nodded slowly. “Have you gotten any more out of your last gestalt update yet?”
“No,” the waldo replied. “It’s really badly scrambled.”
Taggart nodded again. “Well, I’m sure it’ll turn out that you’re just fine.”
“Perhaps, Captain,” the waldo replied. Doctor al-Khalid sounded unconvinced. Taggart didn’t really blame him, not with what he said earlier.
“Well, let’s see if we can find out,” Taggart said. He walked up to the door, and touched the control that would open it. The door slid open, but there was a security man standing in front of it.
“Hey! You’re not supposed to leave your suite,” the man said. Taggart looked at him, seeing how pale the man seemed.
“I need to contact the Audacious,” Taggart replied. “So I need you to take me to your communications center.”
“Oh,” the man said, rolling his eyes, as if he were looking for something. “I need to check with my supervisor. I was just told to make sure you didn’t leave.”
“I see,” Taggart replied. “Well, I’m afraid it’s urgent.”
“Of course, it’s urgent,” the man said. “Everything is always urgent to everybody. Always, always, always!”
“I’m sorry,” Taggart replied, spreading out his hands.
“Whatever,” the man replied. “I’ll call it in.” He turned away, speaking into his lapel, as he wandered down the corridor.
“He is infected,” the waldo said. “I am beginning to see a pattern.”
Taggart frowned. “What’s the pattern?”
“It appears to start with irritability, and then paranoia. From what I am seeing, agitation is always present.”
“And then they become violent,” Taggart said.
“Perhaps,” the waldo replied. “Perhaps the man they brought to Audacious had other issues that were exacerbated by what he contracted.”
“And Colonel Finnegan might’ve been the same way.”
“Yes,” the waldo replied. Taggart frowned, listening to the flat, monotonous, way Doctor al-Khalid spoke. Before he could ask, the security man returned, looking no happier than he did when he left.
“I’m supposed to take you to the comms center,” the man said. “Don’t understand why you Imperials should get special treatment.”
Taggart pressed his lips tightly together.
“We appreciate it,” he replied.
“Do you … do you really,” the man said, wheeling back on him. “You don’t know, Imperial. You don’t understand,” he said, backing up. “You just don’t understand.”
“What,” Taggart echoed. “What don’t we understand?”
“Everything!” The man shrieked, throwing himself at Taggart. Both men went down in a tangle of limbs. Taggart felt his breath leave him in an explosive gasp as he hit the ground, but he somehow fought off the security man’s flailing arms. They exchanged blows, as Taggart rolled free and lunged to his feet. The man grabbed at his legs, trying to pull him down, but Taggart kicked him free.
“You!” The man screamed, scrambling to his feet, and throwing himself at Taggart.
Wham!
The man slammed roughly into the wall, as Taggart shoved him into it. He shoved outward, sending Taggart stumbling back.
“You won’t get me!” The man screamed, leaping off the wall. There was a blur of motion, as the waldo’s fist broadsided his skull. The man sprawled, suddenly limp, to the floor. The waldo brought its hand up to its head, seeming to look it over, before kneeling next to the man.
“I do not know my own strength,” the waldo said, after a moment, rolling the man onto his back. His eyes stared blankly at the ceiling, one pupil clearly larger than the other. Taggart knelt down, his hands grasping his knees, as he tried to catch his breath.
“Well,” he managed, after a moment. “Thanks anyway, Doctor.”
“This only makes our situation worse,” the waldo replied. “This man will certainly die without the medical care I’ve already summoned.”
Taggart frowned, looking at the waldo. “You have access to their emergency channels?”
“Yes,” the waldo replied.
“Can you tap me in,” Taggart said, looking up into the onyx black dome.
“I believe so,” the waldo replied. “I don’t know how to do it in this body, though.”
Taggart nodded. “Visualize an open door,” he said, as he reached out with his syn-brain. An instant later, he found what he was looking for, and there were suddenly a lot of new voices in his head.
“Can anybody reach the senior scientists?”
“Fuck no! I can’t reach anybody, and some of the people wandering the halls are creeping me the fuck out.”
“Why … why are you creeped out? This is natural, isn’t it?”
“What the h-hell are you on, man?”
“This … this is the way it should be. This is befitting of the children of the gods.”
“What … fu …. fuck! Fuck man! Fuck! Get away from me!”
“Cut the goddamn chatter! Patrol one, get down to the airlock and help out patrols four and five.”
“Patrol one, acknowledge.”
“Goddamn it, Patrol one, acknowledge!”
“This is Patrol three. We’re almost at the Imperials’ suite.”
Taggart opened his eyes, seeing a pair of pistols leveled at him.
“Against the wall, Imperial,” a woman with close-cropped blonde hair said.
“What the hell did you do to Crenshaw?” The man with her said, looking up at Taggart as he knelt by the other man’s prone form.
“That was me,” the waldo replied. “He attacked Captain Taggart, and I was forced to step in.”
“Doctor,” Taggart said, just as the woman grabbed his jacket.
“You shut up,” she said. “I don’t know why we let you reactivate that,” she added. “We ought to permanently destroy it.”
“I wouldn’t,” the waldo replied. “Why are you here? I called for a medical team.”
“Nobody from Medical is available,” the man replied. “There are some real nasty fights breaking out.”
“Russell, y-you shut up too,” the woman said.
“Nasty fights,” Taggart echoed, looking back and forth between the man and the woman. “Has anyone told Doctor Guillarmod?”
“Ha,” the man snorted. “Nobody can reach him. A bunch of them went into the Orrery … haven’t been seen since.”
“Russell …”
“Fuck you, Bridgette,” the man replied. Suddenly, the woman let go of Taggart, the muzzle of her sidearm swinging to the side.
“No, Russell,” the woman replied.
Crack!
There was a puff of sintered metal and plastic fragments, as the bullet struck the waldo square in the chest. The man, Russell, was on the ground, staring with wide, terrified eyes.
“What are you doing,” Taggart said, holding the woman fast. He slammed her wrist into the wall, and her gun clattered to the floor. She snarled, and suddenly Taggart saw stars. He slid to the floor, feeling blood gushing from his nose. Vaguely, he saw the woman’s eyes dart back and forth, before she turned and ran away.
Akemi, Taggart thought. The waldo knelt next to him, pressing a cloth to his face.
“Hold still, Captain,” Doctor al-Khalid’s voice said.
“I’m here,” Taggart heard Akemi said.
Akemi! I’ve been trying to reach you! Taggart thought, wincing at the pain of the waldo’s ministrations.
“There is a … situation … up here,” Akemi replied. Taggart furrowed his brow, and the motion caused him sudden, nauseating, pain. “I have deployed Mansoor.”
Mansoor … Akemi, I received a fragmented message about Audacious from Commander Heifetz. What’s going on up there?
“They are being dealt with,” Akemi replied. “Sit tight. Mansoor is on the way.”
“You okay, man,” Taggart heard Russell’s voice. He opened his eyes.
“His nose is broken,” the waldo replied. “Hold this gently, Captain, until the bleeding stops.”
Taggart nodded at both the waldo, and Russell.
“I can’t believe she tried to shoot me,” the other man said, wiping his brow. “If it weren’t for your battle-droid, I-I’d be like Crenshaw.”
“I am merely borrowing this,” the waldo replied. “It has no combat capabilities, apart from my own. Young man, you don’t appear to fit the pattern we’re seeing.”
“How people are starting to go buggy?” Russell replied. “Y-yeah, but there are some of us who’ve been fine the whole time.”
“Why?” Taggart managed, his voice muffled by the cloth.
“Damn if I know,” Russell replied.
“Are you native?” The waldo asked.
“Nat … of course I’m native!”
“Are you sure?”
“I … well … my parents are Imperial expatriates,” Russell finally said, looking down. “Don’t tell nobody … I lied on my application.”
“We don’t plan to,” Taggart replied. “Listen … how many others are immune?”
“I dunno, I can think of maybe seven or eight other guys I work with.”
Taggart nodded slowly.
“Think you can get them all together?”
Russell frowned.
“It’s not like we’re all working in one place. I can try to get a couple of them together … why?”
“Because I can think of a few places around here that it’d be really bad if they got damaged, and it’d be great if the people watching them were the ones who could think clearly.”
“Like what?”
“The environmental plant,” the waldo said. “Whatever you’re using for power generation. The airlocks leading out of the installation.”
“Shit,” Russell replied earnestly. “You’re right,” he added, falling silent for a few moments. “It’s gonna take a lot of guys to watch everything, though.”
Taggart nodded. “We brought a number of scientists and technicians with us, when we arrived. I think that … whatever this is … only affects people with no immediate Earth ancestry. Could you use them?”
“As long as they didn’t run away,” Russell replied, his tone uncertain.
“Where would they go?” Taggart said, putting a clean hand on the young man’s shoulders. “Listen, I just realized that the only place that matters is the airlock complex exiting the facility. If anyone accidently breaches that, that’s it for everyone here. You think you can scare up enough people to watch just the airlocks?”
Russell nodded jerkily.
“Good,” Taggart said. “Doctor al-Khalid and I are going to try to get our scientists. You go round up everyone you can trust, and get to the airlocks.”
“Wait,” Russell interrupted. “W-what the fuck happens then? If everybody goes buggy, there’s no fucking way we’ll be able to stop them.”
Taggart pressed his lips together. “I’ve got Imperial forces inbound,” he finally replied. He didn’t want Russell and his people trying to exchange fire with Mansoor.
“No fucking way!” Russell said, backing up. “I didn’t sign up to hand this whole place over to the goddamned Empire!”
“Look, the forces coming down are combat waldoes, just like Doctor al-Khalid here,” Taggart replied. “They can’t catch human diseases, and they can’t go insane.”
Russell brought his gun up, pointing it at Taggart.
“Pull them back, Imperial.”
“That’s out of my control now,” Taggart replied, spreading his hands.
“The fuck it isn’t. You order them off, or I shoot,” Russell said, dropping into a crouch, his gun aimed squarely at Taggart. “You, battle-droid … get to the opposite wall.”
“Captain,” the waldo said.
“Do as he says,” Taggart replied, keeping his eyes on Russell. “Listen … what would you rather have? Everything the way it is now? With everyone going insane, while free to maybe destroy everything? Or everything secured? With everyone who’s sick unable to hurt themselves or others. You should know that there’s no way the Empire could keep this place, even if we wanted it.”
Suddenly, the lights flickered, briefly went out, and then flared back to life. With that, a cheerful-sounding chime rang out over the P.A.
“This is an automated message. ECS has detected and contained a depressurization event. Non-engineering personnel are encouraged to shelter-in-place until a live announcement is made. Stay calm, your emergency kits contain sufficient emergency oxygen for sixteen hours of activity.”
Taggart never took his eyes off Russell. The young man looked up at the ceiling, and then at the waldo, and then at Taggart. There was another chime, just as the lights flickered again.
“This is an automated message. ECS has detected and contained a depressurization event. It is requested that any available engineering personnel interface with ECS for more details. Non-engineering personnel are highly encouraged to shelter-in-place until a live announcement is made.”
“Your choice,” Taggart said, nodding toward Russell. “I think it’s getting worse out there, not better.”
Russell stared at him, occasionally glancing down at his gun.
“Fuck … r-right,” he said, pointing his gun at the ceiling. “You go get your people, a-and I’ll go get mine.”
Taggart dared not sigh with relief.
“Thank you,” he said, but Russell was already turning away. With his mind, he tried to reach out and contact Doctor Van Hoeck. Unconsciously, he reached for his temple, as a blast of harsh static flooded his mind.
“Captain,” the waldo said.
“We’re being jammed,” Taggart replied. He pursed his lips, kneeling by the man named Crenshaw. His eyes were still open … glassy orbs with nobody home behind them. Taggart shook his head, closing the man’s eyes, before reaching for his sidearm.
“Captain,” the waldo repeated. “I am making headway in un-corrupting my last gestalt update. I think we made a terrible mistake … or I made a terrible mistake.”
Taggart frowned, rising to his feet.
“What about,” he said, checking over the pistol in his hand.
“I’m still trying to sort that out,” the waldo replied, its shoulders making a fair approximation of a shrug. “We should get moving … perhaps I will remember before we reach Doctor Van Hoeck and his people.”
“Captain Taggart, it’s good to hear your voice!” Doctor Van Hoeck replied, a few moments later. Taggart frowned at the tone of the other man’s voice.
“What’s going on out there, Doctor?”
“I’ve ordered my people to remain in their quarters,” Doctor Van Hoeck’s mental voice replied. “Our colleagues have been … quarrelsome, to say the least.”
“Anything as bad as earlier?” Taggart said, putting on his uniform overcoat. It was a bulky garment, woven with anti-ballistic weave, and strips of impact armor.
”Not yet,” Doctor Van Hoeck replied. ”There are a lot of people wanting to pick arguments, though.”
“Hmm,” Taggart said, rubbing his chin. “Have you been able to get a hold of Doctor Guillarmod about this, by any chance?”
”No I haven’t, Captain. And that’s the strange thing … I tried Guillarmod, and I’ve tried all the other senior researchers. And every goddamn one I’ve tried appears to be inside the Orrery, leaving behind angry grad students who insisted they weren’t to be disturbed.”
“Right,” Taggart replied. “That squares with what I’ve experienced.”
”It’s getting freaky out there, Captain. I hate to ask this of you, but I’m really thinking of having my people evacuated back to the Akemi.”
“I haven’t been able to raise her,” Taggart replied. “I think the Commonwealth may be jamming my communications. I’m going to try to get back to Akemi, in person, and then I think I’m going to send down the Jandarma,” he added, clenching his jaw. “The time for diplomacy is over.”
”All right, Captain,” Doctor Van Hoeck replied, a few moments later. ”Be careful out there.”
“Thanks,” Taggart said. “You stay safe as well.” He then turned to face the waldo.
“Doctor? Are you ready?”
“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” the waldo replied.
Taggart nodded slowly. “Have you gotten any more out of your last gestalt update yet?”
“No,” the waldo replied. “It’s really badly scrambled.”
Taggart nodded again. “Well, I’m sure it’ll turn out that you’re just fine.”
“Perhaps, Captain,” the waldo replied. Doctor al-Khalid sounded unconvinced. Taggart didn’t really blame him, not with what he said earlier.
“Well, let’s see if we can find out,” Taggart said. He walked up to the door, and touched the control that would open it. The door slid open, but there was a security man standing in front of it.
“Hey! You’re not supposed to leave your suite,” the man said. Taggart looked at him, seeing how pale the man seemed.
“I need to contact the Audacious,” Taggart replied. “So I need you to take me to your communications center.”
“Oh,” the man said, rolling his eyes, as if he were looking for something. “I need to check with my supervisor. I was just told to make sure you didn’t leave.”
“I see,” Taggart replied. “Well, I’m afraid it’s urgent.”
“Of course, it’s urgent,” the man said. “Everything is always urgent to everybody. Always, always, always!”
“I’m sorry,” Taggart replied, spreading out his hands.
“Whatever,” the man replied. “I’ll call it in.” He turned away, speaking into his lapel, as he wandered down the corridor.
“He is infected,” the waldo said. “I am beginning to see a pattern.”
Taggart frowned. “What’s the pattern?”
“It appears to start with irritability, and then paranoia. From what I am seeing, agitation is always present.”
“And then they become violent,” Taggart said.
“Perhaps,” the waldo replied. “Perhaps the man they brought to Audacious had other issues that were exacerbated by what he contracted.”
“And Colonel Finnegan might’ve been the same way.”
“Yes,” the waldo replied. Taggart frowned, listening to the flat, monotonous, way Doctor al-Khalid spoke. Before he could ask, the security man returned, looking no happier than he did when he left.
“I’m supposed to take you to the comms center,” the man said. “Don’t understand why you Imperials should get special treatment.”
Taggart pressed his lips tightly together.
“We appreciate it,” he replied.
“Do you … do you really,” the man said, wheeling back on him. “You don’t know, Imperial. You don’t understand,” he said, backing up. “You just don’t understand.”
“What,” Taggart echoed. “What don’t we understand?”
“Everything!” The man shrieked, throwing himself at Taggart. Both men went down in a tangle of limbs. Taggart felt his breath leave him in an explosive gasp as he hit the ground, but he somehow fought off the security man’s flailing arms. They exchanged blows, as Taggart rolled free and lunged to his feet. The man grabbed at his legs, trying to pull him down, but Taggart kicked him free.
“You!” The man screamed, scrambling to his feet, and throwing himself at Taggart.
Wham!
The man slammed roughly into the wall, as Taggart shoved him into it. He shoved outward, sending Taggart stumbling back.
“You won’t get me!” The man screamed, leaping off the wall. There was a blur of motion, as the waldo’s fist broadsided his skull. The man sprawled, suddenly limp, to the floor. The waldo brought its hand up to its head, seeming to look it over, before kneeling next to the man.
“I do not know my own strength,” the waldo said, after a moment, rolling the man onto his back. His eyes stared blankly at the ceiling, one pupil clearly larger than the other. Taggart knelt down, his hands grasping his knees, as he tried to catch his breath.
“Well,” he managed, after a moment. “Thanks anyway, Doctor.”
“This only makes our situation worse,” the waldo replied. “This man will certainly die without the medical care I’ve already summoned.”
Taggart frowned, looking at the waldo. “You have access to their emergency channels?”
“Yes,” the waldo replied.
“Can you tap me in,” Taggart said, looking up into the onyx black dome.
“I believe so,” the waldo replied. “I don’t know how to do it in this body, though.”
Taggart nodded. “Visualize an open door,” he said, as he reached out with his syn-brain. An instant later, he found what he was looking for, and there were suddenly a lot of new voices in his head.
“Can anybody reach the senior scientists?”
“Fuck no! I can’t reach anybody, and some of the people wandering the halls are creeping me the fuck out.”
“Why … why are you creeped out? This is natural, isn’t it?”
“What the h-hell are you on, man?”
“This … this is the way it should be. This is befitting of the children of the gods.”
“What … fu …. fuck! Fuck man! Fuck! Get away from me!”
“Cut the goddamn chatter! Patrol one, get down to the airlock and help out patrols four and five.”
“Patrol one, acknowledge.”
“Goddamn it, Patrol one, acknowledge!”
“This is Patrol three. We’re almost at the Imperials’ suite.”
Taggart opened his eyes, seeing a pair of pistols leveled at him.
“Against the wall, Imperial,” a woman with close-cropped blonde hair said.
“What the hell did you do to Crenshaw?” The man with her said, looking up at Taggart as he knelt by the other man’s prone form.
“That was me,” the waldo replied. “He attacked Captain Taggart, and I was forced to step in.”
“Doctor,” Taggart said, just as the woman grabbed his jacket.
“You shut up,” she said. “I don’t know why we let you reactivate that,” she added. “We ought to permanently destroy it.”
“I wouldn’t,” the waldo replied. “Why are you here? I called for a medical team.”
“Nobody from Medical is available,” the man replied. “There are some real nasty fights breaking out.”
“Russell, y-you shut up too,” the woman said.
“Nasty fights,” Taggart echoed, looking back and forth between the man and the woman. “Has anyone told Doctor Guillarmod?”
“Ha,” the man snorted. “Nobody can reach him. A bunch of them went into the Orrery … haven’t been seen since.”
“Russell …”
“Fuck you, Bridgette,” the man replied. Suddenly, the woman let go of Taggart, the muzzle of her sidearm swinging to the side.
“No, Russell,” the woman replied.
Crack!
There was a puff of sintered metal and plastic fragments, as the bullet struck the waldo square in the chest. The man, Russell, was on the ground, staring with wide, terrified eyes.
“What are you doing,” Taggart said, holding the woman fast. He slammed her wrist into the wall, and her gun clattered to the floor. She snarled, and suddenly Taggart saw stars. He slid to the floor, feeling blood gushing from his nose. Vaguely, he saw the woman’s eyes dart back and forth, before she turned and ran away.
Akemi, Taggart thought. The waldo knelt next to him, pressing a cloth to his face.
“Hold still, Captain,” Doctor al-Khalid’s voice said.
“I’m here,” Taggart heard Akemi said.
Akemi! I’ve been trying to reach you! Taggart thought, wincing at the pain of the waldo’s ministrations.
“There is a … situation … up here,” Akemi replied. Taggart furrowed his brow, and the motion caused him sudden, nauseating, pain. “I have deployed Mansoor.”
Mansoor … Akemi, I received a fragmented message about Audacious from Commander Heifetz. What’s going on up there?
“They are being dealt with,” Akemi replied. “Sit tight. Mansoor is on the way.”
“You okay, man,” Taggart heard Russell’s voice. He opened his eyes.
“His nose is broken,” the waldo replied. “Hold this gently, Captain, until the bleeding stops.”
Taggart nodded at both the waldo, and Russell.
“I can’t believe she tried to shoot me,” the other man said, wiping his brow. “If it weren’t for your battle-droid, I-I’d be like Crenshaw.”
“I am merely borrowing this,” the waldo replied. “It has no combat capabilities, apart from my own. Young man, you don’t appear to fit the pattern we’re seeing.”
“How people are starting to go buggy?” Russell replied. “Y-yeah, but there are some of us who’ve been fine the whole time.”
“Why?” Taggart managed, his voice muffled by the cloth.
“Damn if I know,” Russell replied.
“Are you native?” The waldo asked.
“Nat … of course I’m native!”
“Are you sure?”
“I … well … my parents are Imperial expatriates,” Russell finally said, looking down. “Don’t tell nobody … I lied on my application.”
“We don’t plan to,” Taggart replied. “Listen … how many others are immune?”
“I dunno, I can think of maybe seven or eight other guys I work with.”
Taggart nodded slowly.
“Think you can get them all together?”
Russell frowned.
“It’s not like we’re all working in one place. I can try to get a couple of them together … why?”
“Because I can think of a few places around here that it’d be really bad if they got damaged, and it’d be great if the people watching them were the ones who could think clearly.”
“Like what?”
“The environmental plant,” the waldo said. “Whatever you’re using for power generation. The airlocks leading out of the installation.”
“Shit,” Russell replied earnestly. “You’re right,” he added, falling silent for a few moments. “It’s gonna take a lot of guys to watch everything, though.”
Taggart nodded. “We brought a number of scientists and technicians with us, when we arrived. I think that … whatever this is … only affects people with no immediate Earth ancestry. Could you use them?”
“As long as they didn’t run away,” Russell replied, his tone uncertain.
“Where would they go?” Taggart said, putting a clean hand on the young man’s shoulders. “Listen, I just realized that the only place that matters is the airlock complex exiting the facility. If anyone accidently breaches that, that’s it for everyone here. You think you can scare up enough people to watch just the airlocks?”
Russell nodded jerkily.
“Good,” Taggart said. “Doctor al-Khalid and I are going to try to get our scientists. You go round up everyone you can trust, and get to the airlocks.”
“Wait,” Russell interrupted. “W-what the fuck happens then? If everybody goes buggy, there’s no fucking way we’ll be able to stop them.”
Taggart pressed his lips together. “I’ve got Imperial forces inbound,” he finally replied. He didn’t want Russell and his people trying to exchange fire with Mansoor.
“No fucking way!” Russell said, backing up. “I didn’t sign up to hand this whole place over to the goddamned Empire!”
“Look, the forces coming down are combat waldoes, just like Doctor al-Khalid here,” Taggart replied. “They can’t catch human diseases, and they can’t go insane.”
Russell brought his gun up, pointing it at Taggart.
“Pull them back, Imperial.”
“That’s out of my control now,” Taggart replied, spreading his hands.
“The fuck it isn’t. You order them off, or I shoot,” Russell said, dropping into a crouch, his gun aimed squarely at Taggart. “You, battle-droid … get to the opposite wall.”
“Captain,” the waldo said.
“Do as he says,” Taggart replied, keeping his eyes on Russell. “Listen … what would you rather have? Everything the way it is now? With everyone going insane, while free to maybe destroy everything? Or everything secured? With everyone who’s sick unable to hurt themselves or others. You should know that there’s no way the Empire could keep this place, even if we wanted it.”
Suddenly, the lights flickered, briefly went out, and then flared back to life. With that, a cheerful-sounding chime rang out over the P.A.
“This is an automated message. ECS has detected and contained a depressurization event. Non-engineering personnel are encouraged to shelter-in-place until a live announcement is made. Stay calm, your emergency kits contain sufficient emergency oxygen for sixteen hours of activity.”
Taggart never took his eyes off Russell. The young man looked up at the ceiling, and then at the waldo, and then at Taggart. There was another chime, just as the lights flickered again.
“This is an automated message. ECS has detected and contained a depressurization event. It is requested that any available engineering personnel interface with ECS for more details. Non-engineering personnel are highly encouraged to shelter-in-place until a live announcement is made.”
“Your choice,” Taggart said, nodding toward Russell. “I think it’s getting worse out there, not better.”
Russell stared at him, occasionally glancing down at his gun.
“Fuck … r-right,” he said, pointing his gun at the ceiling. “You go get your people, a-and I’ll go get mine.”
Taggart dared not sigh with relief.
“Thank you,” he said, but Russell was already turning away. With his mind, he tried to reach out and contact Doctor Van Hoeck. Unconsciously, he reached for his temple, as a blast of harsh static flooded his mind.
“Captain,” the waldo said.
“We’re being jammed,” Taggart replied. He pursed his lips, kneeling by the man named Crenshaw. His eyes were still open … glassy orbs with nobody home behind them. Taggart shook his head, closing the man’s eyes, before reaching for his sidearm.
“Captain,” the waldo repeated. “I am making headway in un-corrupting my last gestalt update. I think we made a terrible mistake … or I made a terrible mistake.”
Taggart frowned, rising to his feet.
“What about,” he said, checking over the pistol in his hand.
“I’m still trying to sort that out,” the waldo replied, its shoulders making a fair approximation of a shrug. “We should get moving … perhaps I will remember before we reach Doctor Van Hoeck and his people.”
Tales of the Known Worlds:
2070s - The Seventy-Niners ... 3500s - Fair as Death ... 4900s - Against Improbable Odds V 1.0
2070s - The Seventy-Niners ... 3500s - Fair as Death ... 4900s - Against Improbable Odds V 1.0
Re: The Orrery (original)
Oh, a Terrible Mistake. I can think of several Terrible Mistakes that have caused a shit-load of trouble in various stories. So, what mistake is this one, hmm?
Me: Nope, that's why I have you around to tell me.
Nitram: You -are- beautiful. Anyone tries to tell you otherwise kill them.
"A life is like a garden. Perfect moments can be had, but not preserved, except in memory. LLAP" -- Leonard Nimoy, last Tweet
-
Tandrax218
- Padawan Learner
- Posts: 184
- Joined: 2009-12-19 09:47am
Re: The Orrery (original)
hmm interesting 
looking forward for more
a few questions:
who/what is monsoor, and are all the Jandarm robots or guys in power armor ??
looking forward for more
a few questions:
who/what is monsoor, and are all the Jandarm robots or guys in power armor ??
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GrandMasterTerwynn
- Emperor's Hand
- Posts: 6787
- Joined: 2002-07-29 06:14pm
- Location: Somewhere on Earth.
Re: The Orrery (original)
From the beginning of the story: Mansoor is Akemi's Battlespace Intelligence. Basically a digitized human upload that runs the ship's ground/shoreside assault force that consists of things like robotic shock troops (the waldoes,) hovertanks, and close-air support vehicles. Mansoor is distinct from the Jandarma. Jandarma is the Turkish word for Gendarmes which are, technically, a military force charged with civilian police duties. Many centuries before this story takes place, the Jandarma were both the shock and occupational troops of the Empire. When they came up with the Battlespace Intelligences ... those did the job of overwhelming and subduing planets, moonbases, orbital colonies, and the like. This left the Jandarma to become the force used to occupy and rebuild the conquered systems.Tandrax218 wrote:hmm interesting :)
looking forward for more
a few questions:
who/what is monsoor, and are all the Jandarm robots or guys in power armor ??
Which is why Taggart wanted to bring the Jandarma down, and was surprised to learn Akemi was deploying Mansoor. The Jandarma know how to be diplomatic ... whereas such a word doesn't appear anywhere in Mansoor's job description. Centuries ago, the Jandarma were guys in power armor. During the time this story is set, they're not so heavily armed.
Tales of the Known Worlds:
2070s - The Seventy-Niners ... 3500s - Fair as Death ... 4900s - Against Improbable Odds V 1.0
2070s - The Seventy-Niners ... 3500s - Fair as Death ... 4900s - Against Improbable Odds V 1.0
Re: The Orrery (original)
Yep, this just became a Clusterfuck. I have to wonder why Akemi thinks the Mansoor is needed. She didn't say a thing about it.
Me: Nope, that's why I have you around to tell me.
Nitram: You -are- beautiful. Anyone tries to tell you otherwise kill them.
"A life is like a garden. Perfect moments can be had, but not preserved, except in memory. LLAP" -- Leonard Nimoy, last Tweet
Re: The Orrery (original)
She seemed unusually curt and businesslike for having just regained contact. They've been close, borderline romantic, in conversations till now.LadyTevar wrote:Yep, this just became a Clusterfuck. I have to wonder why Akemi thinks the Mansoor is needed. She didn't say a thing about it.
Fingers crossed she's just distracted in dealing with the crisis, whatever it is.
-
GrandMasterTerwynn
- Emperor's Hand
- Posts: 6787
- Joined: 2002-07-29 06:14pm
- Location: Somewhere on Earth.
Re: The Orrery (original)
Crash!
A woman knocked a man over a cart, screaming as she lept over it and started clawing the man in the face.
Taggart and Doctor al-Khalid's waldo sidestepped them sprinting down the corridor, as the lights flickered again.
“Captain!”
Taggart stopped short, ducking just in time to drive his shoulder into the midriff of a slender young man. The man tumbled to the floor, gasping for breath. Behind him, another man screamed, charging the waldo. The waldo flailed with its fists, and one connected with a wet snap of shattered bone.
“You're better at that than I thought you'd be,” Taggart said, reaching up to pat the waldo's shoulder, as both of them continued their rush down the corridor.
“I paid attention in Unarmed,” the waldo replied. “It seemed more useful.”
“I'm glad you did,” Taggart said, as they reached a junction. “Which way?”
“Left,” the waldo replied. Doctor al-Khalid had a map of the facilities surrounding the Orrery. Which was good, Taggart reflected, as there were over eleven kilometers of tunnels to navigate.
“Raaagh,” a man screamed, emerging from a blind corner.
Bam! Bam! Bam!
A shower of sparks erupted from the waldo's left shoulder as the man started firing wildly. Taggart quickly looked around ... there was no way to do this safely.
Bam! Bam!
The man staggered, blood now seeping from his shoulder. Taggart stared at him over the sights of his gun, as the man stared back at him, wide-eyed. Suddenly, seemingly oblivious to his injury, the man ducked down and charged.
Bam!
Taggart sidestepped him, as he fell forward on inertia alone. He slammed awkwardly to the stone floor, but it didn't matter ... the blood pouring from the wound on the top of his skull saw to that.
Taggart's heart raced, and he felt suddenly faint, staring down at the body. Imperial Captains didn't do this! They never killed from up-close!
“Captain,” the waldo said, grabbing his shoulder. “The more time we waste, the worse it will be.”
Taggart nodded mutely, tearing his eyes away from the dead man. It was a consequence he'd have to deal with later.
“H-how are you doing,” he managed, holstering his gun.
“I ... do not think they have anything heavy enough to damage this,” the waldo replied. “Even without the armor plate.”
“Let's not test that just yet,” Taggart said, with a very faint smile.
“Doctor Van Hoeck,” he yelled into the air. Harsh static greeted him, and he pressed his lips together. He'd have to get closer and hope the radio connected to his syn-brain would eventually overpower the jamming.
Akemi!
The static faded, briefly, and in fits and starts.
“Taggart ... barricaded ... Jandarma. Audacious ... hostile ... against us ... slaughtering ... a bloodbath, a goddamned bloodbath ... Heifetz, clear.”
Taggart rubbed his temples, trying to tease the words from the static.
Akemi ... what's going on up there, he thought, desperately. He'd heard nothing further from her since the jamming started. And the few words he just heard from Commander Heifetz ... didn't make him feel any better. He didn't have the ability to talk to Audacious directly, but what he heard ...
Taggart shook his head violently, slamming the palm of his hand against a switch next to a door.
The door slowly ground open, and a pair of bodies flopped to the floor. An involuntary half-grunt, half-scream erupted from Taggart's throat as he took a half-step back. Both bodies bore the gleaming gold thread of the Swords of Saturn sewn onto their mission patches.
Suddenly, the waldo shouldered him aside, kneeling next to the bodies.
Taggart swallowed his rising gorge, taking a moment to compose himself.
“You've found something?”
“Yes,” the waldo replied. “These two died via stab wounds to the chest. If I'm not mistaken, this is the same modus operandi behind the killing of Rolf Jorgensen. And ... look here,” the waldo added, lifting a bloodied arm. Half of it sagged against the cuff of the man's overalls, held on by a few threads of fabric. “He saw this coming.”
“Those swords,” Taggart said. “They found an armory full of swords,” he added, stepping over the bodies. It was perceptibly warmer inside that hallway ... they were getting closer to the Orrery itself.
“Yes.”
“What did Colonel Finnegan say? That Jorgensen's killer knew what he was doing?”
“Yes,” the waldo replied.
Taggart thought about what to say next, but the thoughts that were coming to him weren't making any sense. Or were they? Maybe the man who killed Jorgensen had swordsmanship as a hobby, and maybe he'd done a tour with the Commonwealth armed services to be able to do what Taggart saw him do on that security feed.
But two men, freshly killed in the same way?
“Captain, there's a lot of radio traffic nearby, but none of it is clear voice,” the waldo said, interrupting Taggart's train of thought. He looked up, and down the corridor.
“Mansoor,” he thought, mentally changing channels. The static was gone, but he was expecting it ... the channel was fully encrytped, so he'd hear nothing that wasn't a message.
“Interesting.”
That voice again! It was the voice from ... what had to have been a dream? But, this time, it came over the encrypted sideband.
“Who's there?”
This time, only silence greeted him.
There was a blast of static as he switched channels again.
“Akemi ... fire ... sustained damage ... slacking off ... no choice ... Jandarma ... firepower they're sitting on ... Captain ... four now, Emperor willing. Heifetz, clear.”
“Command!” Taggart yelled into the air. “Command! Akemi,” he yelled, but the static came back, redoubled.
“Captain,” the waldo said.
“I ... ugh,” Taggart replied. “I keep getting fragmentary messages over the command sideband. Each one sounds worse than the last ... it sounds like Audacious is attacking Akemi. I think they were too late, or too ineffective, in getting their isolation in place,” he said, looking down at the floor. “Doctor, can you pinpoint where the encrypted traffic is coming from?”
“Yes,” the waldo replied, after a moment. Taggart nodded slowly.
“I think we need to meet up with them, instead of Van Hoeck's people. And maybe Mansoor is already moving to secure them.”
“Perhaps,” the waldo replied. “Captain, I'm not sure that what you've just said is correct.”
“Excuse me?” Taggart said, frowning.
“About Audacious. The payload in those nanoparticles deploys in a set sequence. There seems to be a distinct incubation period before its victims stop being rational. There hasn't been enough time since initial contamination.”
“Maybe Audacious has been contaminated all along,” Taggart replied. “They said that Brigadier Sir Renton was planning to send the dispatch boat off before he was killed ... but he never told anybody why.”
“It's possible,” the waldo said, after a moment of contemplation. “We should keep moving ... the radio traffic is getting closer.”
“Right,” Taggart replied. “Right,” he repeated. They both turned, pushing silently down the corridor. Taggart blinked, as he turned his head ... were the lights doing what he thought they were doing?
He paused, leaning against the wall, shaking his head. The world seemed to barely flicker as he did. Did someone reprogram the facility's lights? Suddenly, he had a flashback to his time in the Orrery, where he saw the lights there doing the same thing.
“I have it,” the waldo said. “Wait, please ... I'm going to take the gestalt update now.”
“Doctor,” Taggart said, his eyebrows arching upward in surprise. He raised his gun ... he could hear something now ... something like ... faint footfalls?
“Doctor,” he said, clenching his jaw. The waldo stood perfectly still, and perfectly silent. Taggart's eyes, and his gun, swept the broad chamber they were in. He could distinctly hear footfalls now. There were people coming.
“Doctor, we're going to have company,” he said. The waldo raised its head, and then took several, hesitant, steps away from Taggart.
“I,” it said. “I ... Captain, I've made a terrible mistake. We were going to run each DNA sequence individually, but Akemi ... she told me that it would be faster to simply give our model the entire package at once.”
“Doctor,” Taggart said. “Is now the right time?”
“I listened to her,” the waldo replied. “I ... I should've considered the compute-time requirements ... should've considered how large the payload was,” it added, seeming to slump, and seeming to shrink.
“What are you saying, Doctor,” Taggart said, starting to cross the distance between them.
Clank, clank, clank, clank.
“Citizen! Get down,” a deep voice thundered into that chamber. Taggart's eyes darted to the left, catching a glimpse of chromed steel, before the world exploded in crackling thunder and hot shrapnel.
“Doctor!”
The waldo was already toppling to the floor, its chest and torso a shattered ruin leaking fluids and crackling with electrical shorts. The onyx dome was shattered, and the cluster of cameras within was mostly ruined. The remains turned, fixating on Taggart's face, servos whining. There was a momentary blast of static inside Taggart's head, before the waldo collapsed.
“Citizen! We are here to protect you! Put your weapon down!”
Taggart dropped into a crouch, wheeling to face the five or six figures, and their huge black smart-guns. They looked like medieval suits of armor, complete with frog-mouthed helms topped with sapphire-centered studs. He could barely see a set of pale blue eyes staring at him from the inside of one.
Commonwealth Mobile Suits!
Taggart learned about them in the Academy. They were androids dressed in the plate armors typical of the cultures the founders of the Commonwealth encountered. The earliest models carried what were called 'Kalashnikov' rifles ... primitive, but light-years ahead of anything the people they were conquering could've possibly fielded.
“Citizen! Put your weapon down!”
Were these the “measures” Colonel Holmes mentioned before? Carefully, Taggart lowered his gun, and then raised his hands. The intelligences behind those steel helms didn't far exceed those of wolves. Only these wolves carried smart-guns.
Why did they just execute Doctor al-Khalid?
Wham!
The front of one of those helmets disintegrated. Half of a dark-skinned, bald, face leered at Taggart, its remaining blue eye twitching.
“Citizen! Get down!”
Taggart threw himself down. At the opposite end of the chamber, skeletal figures were lunging in. They were Imperial combat waldoes, and that could only mean ...
“Mansoor!”
Mansoor ignored him, the waldoes spreading out and opening fire on the Commonwealth mobile suits. Armor suited figures lurched and staggered under the fire, raising their own weapons, and unleashing thunder on the Imperial forces.
Taggart crawled on his belly ... toward the safety of a dark doorway. His ears rang with the crackle of gunfire. To his right, he could hear the clanking footfalls of more Commonwealth mobile suits flooding into the chamber.
This had to be why Akemi sent Mansoor down! Taggart thought, desperately, trying to simultaneously wriggle forward and cover his head and ears.
“Citizen! Get to cover!”
A waldo crashed to the ground a meter or two away from Taggart. It reached out with claw-like hands, before gunfire ripped into it, spraying him with hot shrapnel. Taggart cried out, struggling harder.
If the mobile suits weren't on his side, why were they trying to give him orders?
Mansoor! SITREP!
There was no response! The crackling explosions of gunfire did not slack off for a moment.
Mansoor!
Taggart reached the safety of the alcove, drawing his knees to his chest, and trying to crush himself as far into the unyielding rock as he could. From where he was, he could see a growing number of figures in suits of armor canted at unnatural angles.
“Captain Taggart!”
Taggart's head whipped back, and he saw the door was open.
“Doctor Guillarmod!”
“Quickly, Captain!” The older man said, beckoning frantically with his hand. His bearded face seemed more hollow and gaunt than Taggart remembered.
“Captain! It's not safe!”
Taggart nodded convulsively, pushing himself up, hurtling himself toward Doctor Guillarmod. He caught the older man's outstretched hand, and was yanked through the doorway. He tumbled to the stone floor, scrambling to his knees. All he could hear was his thundering pulse, and a painful, squealing, ringing in his ears.
He blinked, his eyes trying to adjust to the sudden darkness.
“Interesting,” he heard Doctor Guillarmod say, shortly before his awareness was cut off by sudden, stabbing, pain.
A woman knocked a man over a cart, screaming as she lept over it and started clawing the man in the face.
Taggart and Doctor al-Khalid's waldo sidestepped them sprinting down the corridor, as the lights flickered again.
“Captain!”
Taggart stopped short, ducking just in time to drive his shoulder into the midriff of a slender young man. The man tumbled to the floor, gasping for breath. Behind him, another man screamed, charging the waldo. The waldo flailed with its fists, and one connected with a wet snap of shattered bone.
“You're better at that than I thought you'd be,” Taggart said, reaching up to pat the waldo's shoulder, as both of them continued their rush down the corridor.
“I paid attention in Unarmed,” the waldo replied. “It seemed more useful.”
“I'm glad you did,” Taggart said, as they reached a junction. “Which way?”
“Left,” the waldo replied. Doctor al-Khalid had a map of the facilities surrounding the Orrery. Which was good, Taggart reflected, as there were over eleven kilometers of tunnels to navigate.
“Raaagh,” a man screamed, emerging from a blind corner.
Bam! Bam! Bam!
A shower of sparks erupted from the waldo's left shoulder as the man started firing wildly. Taggart quickly looked around ... there was no way to do this safely.
Bam! Bam!
The man staggered, blood now seeping from his shoulder. Taggart stared at him over the sights of his gun, as the man stared back at him, wide-eyed. Suddenly, seemingly oblivious to his injury, the man ducked down and charged.
Bam!
Taggart sidestepped him, as he fell forward on inertia alone. He slammed awkwardly to the stone floor, but it didn't matter ... the blood pouring from the wound on the top of his skull saw to that.
Taggart's heart raced, and he felt suddenly faint, staring down at the body. Imperial Captains didn't do this! They never killed from up-close!
“Captain,” the waldo said, grabbing his shoulder. “The more time we waste, the worse it will be.”
Taggart nodded mutely, tearing his eyes away from the dead man. It was a consequence he'd have to deal with later.
“H-how are you doing,” he managed, holstering his gun.
“I ... do not think they have anything heavy enough to damage this,” the waldo replied. “Even without the armor plate.”
“Let's not test that just yet,” Taggart said, with a very faint smile.
“Doctor Van Hoeck,” he yelled into the air. Harsh static greeted him, and he pressed his lips together. He'd have to get closer and hope the radio connected to his syn-brain would eventually overpower the jamming.
Akemi!
The static faded, briefly, and in fits and starts.
“Taggart ... barricaded ... Jandarma. Audacious ... hostile ... against us ... slaughtering ... a bloodbath, a goddamned bloodbath ... Heifetz, clear.”
Taggart rubbed his temples, trying to tease the words from the static.
Akemi ... what's going on up there, he thought, desperately. He'd heard nothing further from her since the jamming started. And the few words he just heard from Commander Heifetz ... didn't make him feel any better. He didn't have the ability to talk to Audacious directly, but what he heard ...
Taggart shook his head violently, slamming the palm of his hand against a switch next to a door.
The door slowly ground open, and a pair of bodies flopped to the floor. An involuntary half-grunt, half-scream erupted from Taggart's throat as he took a half-step back. Both bodies bore the gleaming gold thread of the Swords of Saturn sewn onto their mission patches.
Suddenly, the waldo shouldered him aside, kneeling next to the bodies.
Taggart swallowed his rising gorge, taking a moment to compose himself.
“You've found something?”
“Yes,” the waldo replied. “These two died via stab wounds to the chest. If I'm not mistaken, this is the same modus operandi behind the killing of Rolf Jorgensen. And ... look here,” the waldo added, lifting a bloodied arm. Half of it sagged against the cuff of the man's overalls, held on by a few threads of fabric. “He saw this coming.”
“Those swords,” Taggart said. “They found an armory full of swords,” he added, stepping over the bodies. It was perceptibly warmer inside that hallway ... they were getting closer to the Orrery itself.
“Yes.”
“What did Colonel Finnegan say? That Jorgensen's killer knew what he was doing?”
“Yes,” the waldo replied.
Taggart thought about what to say next, but the thoughts that were coming to him weren't making any sense. Or were they? Maybe the man who killed Jorgensen had swordsmanship as a hobby, and maybe he'd done a tour with the Commonwealth armed services to be able to do what Taggart saw him do on that security feed.
But two men, freshly killed in the same way?
“Captain, there's a lot of radio traffic nearby, but none of it is clear voice,” the waldo said, interrupting Taggart's train of thought. He looked up, and down the corridor.
“Mansoor,” he thought, mentally changing channels. The static was gone, but he was expecting it ... the channel was fully encrytped, so he'd hear nothing that wasn't a message.
“Interesting.”
That voice again! It was the voice from ... what had to have been a dream? But, this time, it came over the encrypted sideband.
“Who's there?”
This time, only silence greeted him.
There was a blast of static as he switched channels again.
“Akemi ... fire ... sustained damage ... slacking off ... no choice ... Jandarma ... firepower they're sitting on ... Captain ... four now, Emperor willing. Heifetz, clear.”
“Command!” Taggart yelled into the air. “Command! Akemi,” he yelled, but the static came back, redoubled.
“Captain,” the waldo said.
“I ... ugh,” Taggart replied. “I keep getting fragmentary messages over the command sideband. Each one sounds worse than the last ... it sounds like Audacious is attacking Akemi. I think they were too late, or too ineffective, in getting their isolation in place,” he said, looking down at the floor. “Doctor, can you pinpoint where the encrypted traffic is coming from?”
“Yes,” the waldo replied, after a moment. Taggart nodded slowly.
“I think we need to meet up with them, instead of Van Hoeck's people. And maybe Mansoor is already moving to secure them.”
“Perhaps,” the waldo replied. “Captain, I'm not sure that what you've just said is correct.”
“Excuse me?” Taggart said, frowning.
“About Audacious. The payload in those nanoparticles deploys in a set sequence. There seems to be a distinct incubation period before its victims stop being rational. There hasn't been enough time since initial contamination.”
“Maybe Audacious has been contaminated all along,” Taggart replied. “They said that Brigadier Sir Renton was planning to send the dispatch boat off before he was killed ... but he never told anybody why.”
“It's possible,” the waldo said, after a moment of contemplation. “We should keep moving ... the radio traffic is getting closer.”
“Right,” Taggart replied. “Right,” he repeated. They both turned, pushing silently down the corridor. Taggart blinked, as he turned his head ... were the lights doing what he thought they were doing?
He paused, leaning against the wall, shaking his head. The world seemed to barely flicker as he did. Did someone reprogram the facility's lights? Suddenly, he had a flashback to his time in the Orrery, where he saw the lights there doing the same thing.
“I have it,” the waldo said. “Wait, please ... I'm going to take the gestalt update now.”
“Doctor,” Taggart said, his eyebrows arching upward in surprise. He raised his gun ... he could hear something now ... something like ... faint footfalls?
“Doctor,” he said, clenching his jaw. The waldo stood perfectly still, and perfectly silent. Taggart's eyes, and his gun, swept the broad chamber they were in. He could distinctly hear footfalls now. There were people coming.
“Doctor, we're going to have company,” he said. The waldo raised its head, and then took several, hesitant, steps away from Taggart.
“I,” it said. “I ... Captain, I've made a terrible mistake. We were going to run each DNA sequence individually, but Akemi ... she told me that it would be faster to simply give our model the entire package at once.”
“Doctor,” Taggart said. “Is now the right time?”
“I listened to her,” the waldo replied. “I ... I should've considered the compute-time requirements ... should've considered how large the payload was,” it added, seeming to slump, and seeming to shrink.
“What are you saying, Doctor,” Taggart said, starting to cross the distance between them.
Clank, clank, clank, clank.
“Citizen! Get down,” a deep voice thundered into that chamber. Taggart's eyes darted to the left, catching a glimpse of chromed steel, before the world exploded in crackling thunder and hot shrapnel.
“Doctor!”
The waldo was already toppling to the floor, its chest and torso a shattered ruin leaking fluids and crackling with electrical shorts. The onyx dome was shattered, and the cluster of cameras within was mostly ruined. The remains turned, fixating on Taggart's face, servos whining. There was a momentary blast of static inside Taggart's head, before the waldo collapsed.
“Citizen! We are here to protect you! Put your weapon down!”
Taggart dropped into a crouch, wheeling to face the five or six figures, and their huge black smart-guns. They looked like medieval suits of armor, complete with frog-mouthed helms topped with sapphire-centered studs. He could barely see a set of pale blue eyes staring at him from the inside of one.
Commonwealth Mobile Suits!
Taggart learned about them in the Academy. They were androids dressed in the plate armors typical of the cultures the founders of the Commonwealth encountered. The earliest models carried what were called 'Kalashnikov' rifles ... primitive, but light-years ahead of anything the people they were conquering could've possibly fielded.
“Citizen! Put your weapon down!”
Were these the “measures” Colonel Holmes mentioned before? Carefully, Taggart lowered his gun, and then raised his hands. The intelligences behind those steel helms didn't far exceed those of wolves. Only these wolves carried smart-guns.
Why did they just execute Doctor al-Khalid?
Wham!
The front of one of those helmets disintegrated. Half of a dark-skinned, bald, face leered at Taggart, its remaining blue eye twitching.
“Citizen! Get down!”
Taggart threw himself down. At the opposite end of the chamber, skeletal figures were lunging in. They were Imperial combat waldoes, and that could only mean ...
“Mansoor!”
Mansoor ignored him, the waldoes spreading out and opening fire on the Commonwealth mobile suits. Armor suited figures lurched and staggered under the fire, raising their own weapons, and unleashing thunder on the Imperial forces.
Taggart crawled on his belly ... toward the safety of a dark doorway. His ears rang with the crackle of gunfire. To his right, he could hear the clanking footfalls of more Commonwealth mobile suits flooding into the chamber.
This had to be why Akemi sent Mansoor down! Taggart thought, desperately, trying to simultaneously wriggle forward and cover his head and ears.
“Citizen! Get to cover!”
A waldo crashed to the ground a meter or two away from Taggart. It reached out with claw-like hands, before gunfire ripped into it, spraying him with hot shrapnel. Taggart cried out, struggling harder.
If the mobile suits weren't on his side, why were they trying to give him orders?
Mansoor! SITREP!
There was no response! The crackling explosions of gunfire did not slack off for a moment.
Mansoor!
Taggart reached the safety of the alcove, drawing his knees to his chest, and trying to crush himself as far into the unyielding rock as he could. From where he was, he could see a growing number of figures in suits of armor canted at unnatural angles.
“Captain Taggart!”
Taggart's head whipped back, and he saw the door was open.
“Doctor Guillarmod!”
“Quickly, Captain!” The older man said, beckoning frantically with his hand. His bearded face seemed more hollow and gaunt than Taggart remembered.
“Captain! It's not safe!”
Taggart nodded convulsively, pushing himself up, hurtling himself toward Doctor Guillarmod. He caught the older man's outstretched hand, and was yanked through the doorway. He tumbled to the stone floor, scrambling to his knees. All he could hear was his thundering pulse, and a painful, squealing, ringing in his ears.
He blinked, his eyes trying to adjust to the sudden darkness.
“Interesting,” he heard Doctor Guillarmod say, shortly before his awareness was cut off by sudden, stabbing, pain.
Tales of the Known Worlds:
2070s - The Seventy-Niners ... 3500s - Fair as Death ... 4900s - Against Improbable Odds V 1.0
2070s - The Seventy-Niners ... 3500s - Fair as Death ... 4900s - Against Improbable Odds V 1.0