McKnight's Mission Page 2
“What about a bigger one?” Lu Bu asked.
Dr. Middleton shook her head, “There’s no way to get them down that cold since they’re designed to preserve life rather than contain samples of it for later study. They wouldn’t be of any help for this; the only option is a smaller canister.”
“Fine,” McKnight nodded, “modify such a container, get the best sample you can and secure it aboard the freighter. After you’ve done so you’re ordered to sanitize the area where the specimen was neutralized, to the best of your ability, and then have the Lancers dump the rest of the thing’s remains out the nearest airlock—where we’ll sanitize them with the Slice’s PD plasma cannons. Everyone who has come into contact with the creature is to be quarantined and examined to the best of your ability; after you’ve completed those tasks and determined them to be free of contagion, you will disembark the Slice and accompany Corporal Lu to Capital to provide support for her mission.”
“Understood,” Dr. Middleton nodded, standing from the table as Lu Bu did likewise.
“Good hunting, ladies,” McKnight nodded curtly, and Lu Bu left the conference room to prepare for her assigned duty while her adoptive mother did likewise.
Chapter I: A Drop-Off
Two days later, after Dr. Middleton had quarantined and secured a miniscule amount of the Dark Seer’s bio-matter, Lu Bu and her assigned team had transferred their gear and persons to the Mode—Lynch, the arms dealer’s, formerly personal craft—and were prepared to point transfer out of the system.
Their pilot, Yide, looked over at his co-pilot—who was also his sister, and naturally resembled a smaller version of the Sundered male—and said in his modestly deep, growling voice, “Report your status.”
His sister, whose name was unspeakable with a human tongue and voice, snapped him a sharp look before replying in their strange, animalistic tongue.
Shaking his head in obvious disappointment, Yide held his tongue as he completed the Cutter’s pre-flight routine. Lu Bu was far from the only member of the Pride’s remaining crew who felt deeply sympathetic to Yide and his sister’s plight. Their family had been torn apart, with their mother dying in the Battle of Cagnzyz and she found herself giving Dr. Middleton a silent, thankful look as they strapped into their seats in the Mode’s cockpit.
Lu Bu had never known a familial bond even remotely similar to the one which Yide and his sister shared—at least not until she had met Dr. Middleton. She had almost instantly bonded with the former spouse of the Pride’s commanding officer, Captain Middleton. But to experience a lifelong bond like that which Yide and his sister shared was something Lu Bu knew she would never know, and she found herself silently promising the unborn triplets in her womb that she would ensure such a bond was something they knew from the first day of their lives.
“Incoming transmission,” Traian reported from the third console in the craft’s cockpit, “it’s Lieutenant McKnight, ma’am.”
“Put her on,” Lu Bu instructed as she leaned toward the nearest pick-up.
Lieutenant McKnight’s pale, professional, but enviable symmetrical features appeared on the screen nearest Lu Bu. “Are your people prepared for point transfer, Corporal?”
“We are ready for mission, Captain,” Lu Bu acknowledged, using the honorific even though she was as-yet unclear on the protocol for doing so. McKnight had been nothing short of impressive after filling Captain Middleton’s role as commanding officer of the Pride’s remaining crew, and Lu Bu was far from alone in her opinion that the young, blond woman deserved as much respect as possible.
“We’ll wait for you to signal your successful first point transfer,” McKnight explained, “then you’re on your own since we’ll be heading back to Fleet HQ.”
“We will not fail, Captain,” Lu Bu said with finality. “We will be prepared when you return.”
“I know you will,” McKnight nodded, “good hunting, Corporal—McKnight out.”
The screen went blank and Lu Bu saw Yide turn to make eye contact with her. “Initiate point transfer sequence,” she ordered, and he nodded while turning back to the primary console of the smaller-than-expected cockpit.
“Point transfer initiated, ma’am,” he said, and a barely-perceptible thrum vibrated through the deck plates which Lu Bu knew from prior experienced signaled that he had, indeed, spun up the ship’s hyper drive.
She looked down at the data slate she had clutched in her hands for far more time than she probably ought to have done since discovering the hidden message contained on it—a message which had played no small part in Lieutenant McKnight’s decision to deploy Lu Bu’s team to Capital for her secretive mission.
Lu Bu put earbuds in each ear, to ensure that only she would hear the verbal portion of the message, and then located the message file in the slate’s archives. After a brief hesitation, she played the recording from the beginning.
Fei Long’s face appeared on the slate’s screen and, just as it had done the several dozen times she had previously viewed the recording, a sad expression filled the features of her dead boyfriend and soul mate—a man who, despite his many flaws, she knew would never be replaced during her lifetime.
“Fengxian…” he said, using her familiar name rather than her proper one and causing her eyes to mist—just as they had done every other time she had viewed the recorded message, “if you are seeing this then it means I am gone. I know I have been far from the perfect companion, but during our time together you have opened my eyes to realities I never dreamed possible to understand. And, for me,” he added with that arrogant little twinkle in his eye that she had previously found so enraging, but now realized it would be one of the things she remembered most clearly about him, “that is no small feat…so I would like to thank you for everything I was able experience at your side, and I hope it is not too presumptuous to assume that I had some small positive impact on your own life. I most likely died in the Cagnzyz star system during the mission, and since you are watching this recording it means the mission was probably successful.”
She knew he spoke truly; the mission had been of the utmost importance to the Spineward Sectors, but in all likelihood it was one which would never be truly appreciated by the people who called the Spine their home. Lu Bu had left behind thoughts of prestige and glory sometime between her professional smashball days and the day Sergeant Walter Joneson had died, but the fact that the sacrifices which had been made on behalf of the unknowing citizens of the Spineward Sectors was enough to make her stomach churn in resentment. But Fei Long, as he was wont to do both in life and in death, continued blithely in spite of her obvious emotional confliction.
“I must ask you, Fengxian, with every fiber of my being,” he said, his eyes becoming hard and his tone unshakably serious, “to leave the Multi-Sector Patrol Fleet and pursue a life for yourself that will not end in battle against the endless enemies arrayed against Captain Middleton and his organization. We have played our parts in this drama, Fengxian,” he said bitterly, “we owe nothing more to our fellow sentients than what we have already provided.”
She saw his visage soften, and for the briefest of instants the man she had come to love appeared. She had tried in vain to isolate the individual video frame which perfectly captured his essence, but had been unable to do so. It was something about the way he switched from one emotional state to another, or from a previous thought to a new one, which appeared to define who and what Fei Long had been—at least in her mind—so she watched with bittersweet feelings as the moment passed and Fei Long sighed.
“But, as you know, I am a rather intelligent man,” he said with a generous portion of resignation in his voice, “so I already know you will be disinclined to follow my advice. And, to prove I am in fact an intelligent man and not just an overly arrogant one—which I most certainly am, but that fact in no way contradicts my intellect,” he added off-handedly, just as he had done a thousand times before in their private conversations, “I have included several virtual n
etwork addresses located on the Core World of Capital, as well as half of the cyphers required to gain access to my virtual intelligence network located there. This network will prove critical to future MSP efforts in the Spineward Sectors and, as such, I have employed a unique safeguard system,” he explained with that trademark, arrogant smirk which she had literally wiped off his face more times than she could remember.
She noticed Dr. Middleton watching her as the recording played out, but in spite of her burning ears at seeing her adoptive mother’s disapproving look she kept her attention focused on the message.
“Here is a list of aliases,” Fei Long explained as a handful of names populated the left side of the image, “belonging to former associates of mine who, at least at one time, shared my desire for freedom of information on our home world. I suspect that not all of them will be available or, if available, will be willing to assist you but it is my sincere hope that at least one of them will be able to do so. If not,” he said, his tone becoming stern, “you may permit Lisa Steiner or one of her subordinates to attempt gaining access to the network, but I would give her no better than a thirty percent chance of success—and if anyone attempts to access the system, but fails even one time, the network will self-erase in a matter of seconds. I cannot allow this asset to fall into the hands of those who would abuse it, and I would consider it a personal matter if you did your best to ensure that does not happen.”
She found herself silently vowing that she would do so, just as she had done every other time she had viewed the recording.
“This is, I fear, all the help I can give,” he said sadly. “If you truly wish to pursue the path on which our feet had been set when last we held each other, then this is the best way I can contribute to your success. I…” his voice caught, prompting him to clear his throat in some vain attempt to keep from appearing overly emotional, “I wish you the best in your life, Fengxian. In spite of my personal preferences, I know you will follow the thread which your life was meant to follow. If there is some form of afterlife for us, I will spend every moment seeking you out once I reach it.” He paused and seemed to regard the visual recorder hesitantly for several seconds before finishing far-too-quickly, “Fare well…and may the East Wind forever be at your back.”
The image disappeared and was replaced with the slate’s file directory, and Lu Bu actually wished there had been tears which required her to fight back. But in the month since the battle of Cagnzyz, Lu Bu had come to terms with the reality of her situation.
Though she had lost Kongming, she had gained a greater measure of purpose and resolve than she had known with him at her side. She would do her best to protect the people of the Spineward Sectors from their enemies, and she would do it with her last breath if necessary.
Her hand moved over her swollen belly and she felt the faint stirrings of the three seeds of life within, knowing that very soon that life would depend on people like her to defend them from oppression.
Whatever flaws she might have, and however poorly she might yet do as a mother, she was determined to keep her children safe—and nothing in the galaxy could sway her from any course which would let her do that.
Chapter II: Capital Decisions
After seven consecutive point transfers, which took thirty hours to complete due to Lu Bu’s choice to arrive at Capital only after the crew had been fully-rested, the Mode arrived at the outskirts of the Capital Star System.
Lu Bu looked around at her team and saw everyone assembled. First were Yide and his sister, who manned the Mode’s pilot and co-pilot stations and were automatically granted provisional residency on Capital since the Sundered were classified as a persecuted group by Capital’s Sentient Rights Assemble. Next was Traian, who had insinuated himself into the mission at the last minute as a replacement for Bernice by suggesting his technical expertise might prove beneficial compared to Bernice’s relative inexperience—and there was the matter of Bernice’s unofficial social status and ability to clear customs, seeing as Tracto was yet to be formally recognized by any major political body. Doctor Middleton was naturally a part of the team, as was Hutch since his business contacts on Capital—and relatively high profile—might prove useful.
Lu Bu had pushed for the inclusion of Strider on the team, but Lieutenant McKnight had denied her request since the Slice of Life only had one other qualified Navigator and she had been needed on the Perilous Halibut in case the two ships needed to separate for any reason.
So Strider had pre-programmed short, conservative point transfers into the Mode’s navigation computer—which, Lu Bu was told, was far more advanced than any which Strider or the other surviving members of the Pride of Prometheus and required far less in the way of minute computations to plot jumps—and trained Yide how to make the necessary modifications.
Apparently Yide was passably capable at this particular task, but an error on his part might cost them several extra hours of transit time once they transferred to their destination. With as much time as Lieutenant McKnight was likely to spend at Fleet HQ before returning to Capital, however, Lu Bu suspected that even a few extra days of transit time would be relatively meaningless.
“Our handshake protocols are authenticated,” Traian reported. “The Capital SDF has accepted our flight plan; we’ll get a berth assigned after we’ve entered Capital Prime’s zone of authority.”
“All systems are green,” Yide reported after a short back-and-forth with his sister in their native, growling ‘language.
“We land on Capital using Hutch’s docking pass,” Lu Bu explained, going over the plan once again, “Yide and sister apply for residence papers; Hutch arranges travel documents for my home world; Dr. Middleton and I purchase ship supplies and Traian stays with ship. We have little money, so we must finish these tasks before our ten hour free docking expires.”
“Understood, ma’am,” Traian nodded, “I’ll run through the ship’s systems and keep prying eyes away while you’re out.”
“Good,” she nodded, “everyone be prepared to move as soon as we land.”
“Got it,” Hutch nodded.
Ten hours later, the various groups returned to the Mode with their assignments successfully completed. Lu Bu breathed a long sigh of relief when the Cutter lifted off from the planet’s surface with no more than six minutes to spare before truly outrageous docking fees began to accrue.
“Good work, team,” she said after the ship had passed beyond the atmospheric envelope of the heavily-trafficked Core World. “We have enough supplies for three months on this ship,” she explained, jerking her thumb over her shoulder toward the stern of the ship before adding flatly, “but we have no more money with us.”
“How are we going to pay for our refuel and docking at Shèhuì Héxié?” Traian asked dubiously.
“I have money on my home world,” Lu Bu replied simply.
“Begging your pardon,” Hutch interrupted, “but I thought your world forbade capitalism and, by extension, currency acquisition for most of its citizens?”
“That is a common myth,” Lu Bu explained, “most goods and services do not require currency exchange to acquire, but citizens are given annual stipend to spend on luxuries equal to ten percent of average citizen productivity for previous calendar year.”
“But you can’t have much money in that fund,” Traian said skeptically, “even if you were given money every year you were alive, and you saved every penny—or whatever minimum denomination they use—you wouldn’t have saved more than a year and a half’s worth of salary. Docking fees are usually several times the average person’s yearly income per month, even at low-rent slips—and that doesn’t even get to refueling costs.”
“My…family,” Lu Bu bit out the word, since the people who shared her genes were far from an actual family, “had all individual accounts confiscated after compound was seized and family arrested. This money is now mine; also money for…how you say, ‘reparations,’ from society were deposited into account.”
“How much are we talking about?” Dr. Middleton asked. Lu Bu had avoided getting into this particular subject since she had never intended to draw on those funds. It had been a point of pride for her to prove she could make her own way in the world regardless of her peculiar upbringing or other disadvantages—chief among those deficiencies being her extensive genetic modifications and deficient social skills due to living in what most people would agree was a torturous environment during her formative years.
But now, with the mission’s success at stake, she saw no problem with drawing on those funds—and she was glad to be able to help in whatever way she might, since she had been effectively sidelined from physical activity due to her pregnancy.
“Money is equal to six person lifetime value,” Lu Bu explained sheepishly.
“You mean yearly value,” Traian said in an effort to correct, but Lu Bu shook her head sharply.
“No,” Lu Bu said, feeling her face go red, “lifetime. Average citizen lives ninety three years on my world, so—“
“So you’re worth a small fortune,” Hutch interrupted as eyebrows rose throughout the craft’s large cockpit—which probably should have been referred to as a pilothouse, but Lu Bu still thought of it as a cockpit due to the central layout and prominent position of the pilot’s chair. “That helps,” the burly smashball pro—and soon-to-be Hall of Famer—said, putting a thankful end to the awkward conversation.
“It does,” Traian agreed. “So we won’t have to worry about funds during our stay; how long do you think it will take to contact these people?”
“If lucky,” Lu Bu mused, “one week. If not lucky, one month to find all of them.”
“That’s going to be cutting it close,” Dr. Middleton said.
“Yes,” Lu Bu nodded, “but trip will take three weeks, so we should begin shifts; Traian and Hutch will stand next watch while Yide and sister continue for next six hours. Dr. Middleton and I will take third shift, so I think best idea is to set sleep schedule now.”