Everyone’s comms erupt in static all at once. Wil grabs the side of his head. “What?” he shouts.
“Can you hear us?” It’s Prathea, Wil thinks.
Zephyr looks at her wristcomm, embedded in the forearm of her armor. “We hear you, Prathea. What happened to the—” The floor shakes, and lights flicker. “—jamming?”
“It ended a few centocks ago.”
Gabe tilts his head up to the ceiling. “The ship has suffered tremendous damage. The communications assembly has been destroyed. From what I can determine it is still sixty-five percent combat effective, however.”
“Tough ship,” Wil says.
Gabe nods. “Indeed.”
Maxim looks hopeful. “Does that mean it can’t transmit back to where it came from?”
Gabe shakes his shiny new head. “I am afraid not. Since it is using the sensor array to transmit, the ship’s communication gear is not needed. It merely needs an open data channel, which is a different section of the ship.”
“Prathea, can you tell what’s happening outside?” Wil asks, poking his head into the corridor, looking left and right.
“The Peacekeepers have suffered pretty heavy losses but are making headway. The dreadnought is heavily damaged. It sounds like one of the command carriers has been destroyed.” A pause, then, “Oh! Several Harrith Navy vessels arrived a minute or two ago, as well.”
Wil looks at the others, who shrug. “That seems like a big deal.”
“By the way,” Prathea continues, “there’s a massive hole in the cargo hold door and the bay is now in vacuum, just so you know.”
Wil’s eyes go wide. “Is the ship—”
“The ship is fine. We are too, thanks for asking,” the scientist replies tersely.
“Good to know,” Wil says, motioning the others to follow. “See if you can reach the Peacekeepers or Harrith navy. It’d be great if they hold off firing at the cargo hold any more, at least until we’re off this bucket.”
“We’ll try, but I’d hurry—sounds like the Peacekeepers are making a big push.” The deck shakes again, and several beams fall from the ceiling onto the huge fabrication unit. The service drone Gabe had previously occupied has been crushed under the debris.
Again, Gabe looks to the ceiling. “The ship is redirecting all it’s resources to building drones and missiles to keep the fleets away from it. I can’t be one hundred percent certain, but I believe that the reconfiguration of the sensor array is almost complete. The additional drones and missiles are to keep the Peacekeepers and Harrith navy occupied while it finalizes the re-configuration.”
Wil nods. “And no one is firing on the platform because they don’t realize what it’s planning. Smart evil monster ship.”
They begin their slow march toward the cargo hold and the waiting Ghost. The remains of the drones they had destroyed are gone. Nodding to the few bits of metal left behind, Gabe says, “Everything that can be turned into a drone or a missile, is. There are thousands of drones similar to the model I occupied.”
“Should make getting back to the Ghost easier,” Bennie says, hopefully.
The comms crackle again. “Uh, Zephyr.” It’s Xan. “I’m patching in a communication from the Peacekeeper ship Pax Imperious.”
The lines goes quiet, then erupts in static and shouting voices. “Peacekeeper Intelligence Operative Zephyr?”
“Uh, retired—well, framed actually—but yes. To whom am I speaking?” she asks, looking first to Maxim who shakes his head and then to Wil who shrugs.
“This is Captain Benesch of the Pax Imperious. I’m Fleet Commander for this engagement.” The sounds of fire suppression systems and shouted orders can be heard in the background. “I understand you and your team are onboard the dreadnought?”
Wil stops and turns to look at Zephyr, mouthing your team? with his eyebrows raised.
She waves him off. “Yes, sir, that’s correct.”
“I’ve received word from the Harrith Navy that they recently had an operative on board—”
“Murta,” Wil says, scowling.
“—and that there’s a chance the operative installed some type of virus or something.”
They all stop and look at each other, then turn to Gabe, who stares back at them.
“We don’t know anything about it. But I’m guessing it can’t be remotely activated?” Zephyr says.
Over the line there’s more shouting and a few screams. “That’s correct,” Captain Benesch replies. “Apparently it was designed to be activated only within a short distance, by someone aboard the ship. I’ve no idea why—seems like a design flaw to me. The intent seems to have been to use it to take over the computer system of the vessel at a later date.”
“Captain, this ship is planning to use the Borrolo array to send a message back to where it came from,” Zephyr says.
“What?” There’s silence, then the Captain can be heard shouting muffled orders. Then he’s back, “Then your mission is even more imperative. Do you know where the device was installed? You have to get close enough to it to activate it. I’m sending the activation protocols now.”
“It’s gotta be on the bridge,” Wil says. He snaps his armored fingers, “Damnit. He was nosing around one of the consoles. I bet he attached it there.”
Gabe does his looking-at-the-ceiling thing again. “We have perhaps a quarter tock.”
Bennie jumps up and down. “That’s got to be it. He installed it and it went dormant, waiting to be activated. I bet that krebnack was waiting until the Harrith Navy arrived, and he’d have stolen the ship right out from under us. Clever, I’ll give him that.” He sighs. “Wish I’d thought of it.”
Wil looks at his new and improved mechanical friend. “Would that even work, Gabe? This ship seems pretty advanced.”
The droid nods. “It could. Without knowing the specifics of the virus or the delivery device, it is hard to say. However, given the relative success the Peacekeeper software has had in not only avoiding deletion but causing significant irritation to the primary intelligence, I would give the Harrith virus at least even odds.” He motions for them to follow him, and turns down a different corridor to the one they had entered from. “Keep in mind, this vessel and the intelligence it houses are quite advanced, but also several thousand years old. I can get us to the bridge in time, but we must hurry.” At that, he bends down and picks up Bennie, who squeaks.