“And yet I doubt there is a bloody soul alive inside of four light years that does not know that Ensign Anthony Grant Stone single-handedly took down a Donalite terrorist cell on Luna earlier this very year,” Big Barney said matter-of-factly.

  I snorted derisively. “For starters it was not single-handedly and second if the idiots hadn’t been trying to blow-up the very space tether I was riding on they could have gone on their merry way and it would have been no skin off my teeth.”

  “You were taking the tether to a D’rlalu starship,” the rock rat observed.

  I leaned forward and took a massive swig of my beer. “Not my idea. I was escorting a hot doctor who wanted to see their med-bay. Trust me, if I never have to smell one of those doggies again it would be too soon. It was that trip which cost me my place in the corps. I said and did some things that never made it into the news media. Things that prompted Admiral Kimbridge to request a secondary psych evaluation.”

  Barney nodded towards the others in the room. “And these guys just decided to come along for the ride.”

  “Not exactly,” I chuckled with a wink and a grin. “Hedy was caught being a little too entrepreneurial with ship’s equipment. As it also involved an Admiral’s son, a decision was made to allow her to quietly resign rather than make a court case out of it. As it turned out, Kara and I found each other about the same time Hedy was looking for an engineering gig… and as I encourage an entrepreneurial spirit it was a win-win.”

  “I see,” the smaller man said as he took a sip of his beer. “What’s your story Duffy… and what type of name is that anyway?”

  I laughed again. “It’s more of a description than a name,” I snorted.

  “My name is Franklin Hamilton O’Ryan McGinnis… thank you very much!”

  “Duffy has several defective neurons in his cerebrum. He resigned a perfectly good commission to join Hedy and me on the Kara. I can only assume he’s sweet on our engineer because he ain’t my type.”

  Big Barney looked over to the big Irishman. He raised a speculative eyebrow.

  “I’m a sucker for hard luck cases,” the big man explained. “Besides, we are supposed to be a security escort firm and I’m trained muscle. It’s a perfect fit. To be honest, I didn’t want my buds having all the fun… how many guys get to fly a combat shuttle and take out the trash without having to file all the bureaucratic bull crap the Marines require?”

  “I’m sure the authorities would still require ya to report on yer security activities,” Barney said as he hunted for a loose crumb in the pie tin.

  “Only if they can find the bodies,” Duffy said with a grin.

  This caused Big Barney to look up. He glanced at each of us in turn as if trying to decide if we were being serious.

  Duffy reached over and clasped the smaller man on the shoulder. “Don’t worry my little rock rat… guy your size… no chance of having to fill out any paperwork.”

  “Ah…” Big Barney began hesitantly.

  We all started laughing.

  ***

  When Big Barney finally returned to his rock jumper I sent another code grey message to the others… keep up a friendly conversation while I swept the ship for bugs.

  In the end, I found two. Again, they were not military grade issue but they would have done the job had we not found them. One listening device was located in the galley while the other was near the privy just off of the bridge.

  It was important that both bugs appear to remain undiscovered.

  I placed a sound cloak over both. The one in the galley would play a mix of random dish moving sounds followed by silence and then periods of snoring. It would run the cycle with randomized intervals for about six hours before repeating.

  The one near the forward commode I directionally shielded from the bridge. Since we knew where it was we could avoid any conversations that might compromise our operation when we were near it.

  “So any speculation as to why our friend out there planted bugs on us and infested us with remote-controlled knockout nanites,” I asked the others as we sat together on the heavily shielded bridge.

  “Nothing good,” Duffy offered.

  “It seems to indicate he is not the miner he claims to be… or at least that’s not what’s driving his interaction with us,” Hedy said.

  “I’d been curious about what specific types of hauls the pirates have been raiding,” I asked.

  “Well, they’ve been hitting metal ores and exotics like the Skipjack’s Yttrium,” Duffy supplied.

  “Anything else?”

  “Sometimes they steal the transports as well as the cargo… other times they just take the load,” Hedy added.

  “So in my mind, a curious pattern is emerging,” I said. “Notice what they are not taking. No fuel. No food. No significant organics.”

  I turned to look at a holographic display which I had just signaled my embedded AI to bring up for the others to see as well. It contained samples of each ship, transport or hull that had been taken.

  “Look at what’s been taken ship-wise so far. They are not always the newest. They are not always the best maintained. What they all have in common is they tend to use standardized components as opposed to custom equipment. Who else do we know uses that type of approach with their equipment?”

  “Any military worth its salt,” Duffy answered. “Good Lord, if the Donalites are building a fleet and if that little runt is working for the Donalites as a spotter… he must have seen the Kara as one hell of a prize package. No wonder he drugged us. His plan must be to get us near a highjack site and then take us out so they can steal our ship.”

  “I wonder what they do with the crews. I’m only asking,” Hedy said, “because… well we are the crew.”

  “The fact that we have been loaded up with non-lethal nanites is a good sign,” I offered. “It makes me think they want to keep their options open.”

  “So that’s why you made sure he knew we were highly trained assets and might in fact be sympathetic to their cause,” Duffy said as he drained the last of a beer he had been nursing for the last hour or so. “You’re always thinking three steps ahead.”

  My only answer was a smile and to tap my forehead.

  “So what’s the plan Boss,” Hedy asked.

  I leaned forward and dismissed the floating hologram that had been hovering between us. “Here’s what we’re going to do…”

  *** G2

  The remainder of the trip to Big Barney’s claim was uneventful… other than my crew and I were consumed by the anticipation of waiting for the other shoe to drop. We knew that the rock rat flying the Red Barn a scant fifteen hundred kilometers ahead of us was up to something. It was the ‘what and when’ that had us on edge.

  “We are approaching the Potato Farm,” Hedy announced from her sensor station.

  The Potato Farm was the nickname Barney had given claim number MAB0091341. At the distance we were from the three kilometer rock, it was still impossible to see with the naked eye.

  Duffy, however, had configured the main viewscreen to display a magnified view of our destination shortly after midway. As we approached the rock; the amount of magnification required gradually diminished. The result was an ever increasing crispness as the resolution improved. At this distance, the Kara’s passive optical sensors were able to discern features as small as five centimeters.

  “Anything on sensors to raise any red flags?” I asked.

  “Negative Captain,” Hedy responded. “Shall I do an active scan?”

  I shook my head and then answered out loud for the benefit of one of Barney’s long-discovered listening bug which we had unblocked for the moment.

  “Better not just yet. If there are any pirates in the area we don’t want to broadcast our presence. Wait until we are within a couple of kilometers and then do a low-level mapping scan. If there is anybody waiting down there to surprise Barney… that should give us plenty of warning. Meanwhile, keep up a full 360 passive scan. Wouldn’t be good for our new business alliance if we allowed somebody to sneak up on us now would it?” I chuckled.

  It wasn’t until we got to within five kilometers of the Potato Farm and I had given the order to lock us into a stable orbit that Barney made his move. Hedy had just confirmed the Kara’s AI had established the desired orbit when my Marine-grade nanites went into high gear to neutralize the sudden flood of neurotoxins that were released into my system by the foreign nanites the rock rat had infested us with.

  I sighed and handed a folded credit chit to Duffy. I had bet the move would not be made until after we had started the active scan. I signaled the others to go to subvocal communication only and began a prearranged recorded sound sequence for the benefit of the aforementioned bugs. These sounds included the dropping of a coffee cup and an interrupted round of marine-grade swearing by Ensign McGinnis.

  As I deliberately allowed my body to fall I croaked a single verbal command. If I had been in Barney’s rock jumper I suspect I would be hearing him swear up a storm.

  “Kara, go threat-level four…”

  Chapter 12: Capture …

  Threat-level four meant several things on a ship like the Kara.

  First, it meant her intruder suppression systems were engaged. Anyone entering the ship was likely to face AI controlled stun pointers. The electric pulses that traveled down the minute plasma tunnels created by a pointer weapon were generally not lethal but they would certainly incapacitate most targets.

  The second thing a TL4 status did was to lockdown the Kara’s control systems. It would take a considerable effort to bypass the security lockout without damaging critical components.

  It was my hope that both actions would discourage our presumed Donalite hosts from attempting to discard the Kara’s crew too soon. First, such an action would require we blow our cover and fight out way out –never a good idea when you have no idea about the size, training and composition of the opposing forces… and second, it would require us to tip our hand that the GCP was looking into the pirate situation.

  My internal AI was currently tied into the ship’s internal sensors. It provided a vivid out-of-body experience as I could see what was happening even with my eyes closed.

  The Potato Farm was in fact a ship. I have to be honest… this one took me by surprise. At three kilometers in length, it was most certainly one of… if not the biggest… ship in the Sol system.

  Now in fairness, calling a hollowed-out shell with a massive set of thrusters bolted on to the back end – a ship – was a bit of a stretch. It did explain why the asteroid had next to no rotation. When Hedy had commented on the lack of rotation to the miner earlier, Barney had claimed that it limited outgassing during drilling operations. Sometimes volatiles got heated by the tenuous solar radiation and chose inopportune times to gush forth. This could be a problem for someone working on the surface. As none of us were miners, the explanation made sense and so we didn’t think much more about it. Now we knew the rotation had been suppressed so we would not see the VASIMR thrusters on the asteroid’s dark side.

  As the Kara made her way around the dark side in the course of her orbit, a small tug, much like Barney’s Red Barn made its way from the surface and joined the rock rat in securing our vessel with maneuvering clamps designed to latch onto access points placed at standard intervals around the ship.

  It was at this point that the pirates ran into their first problem. Kara’s AI was programmed to keep her in orbit around the asteroid. The tugs, attempting to change the Kara’s position relative to the asteroid found themselves battling the combat shuttle’s more powerful station-keeping thrusters.

  My AI was tied into the Kara’s comm system and so I was able to hear the radio chatter that was passing between the two Donalite pirates.

  “Damn bastards… they must has the ship’s autopilot engaged. We ain’t going to get this done without someone going inside to disengage it.” I didn’t recognize the voice so I was assuming this must have been the second rock jumper that was talking.

  “That’s going to be a fun ride for somebody,” a voice that sounded like Big Barney said. “Them guys are ex-marines. I heard’em engage the automated defense systems. The shuttle is locked down right now.”

  “Great,” the first speaker said. “So just what are we supposed to do now?”

  “We could send Jesse in through the main airlock… see what happens.”

  “And if he gets shot?”

  “It’s Jesse,” Barney said dryly.

  “Good point,” the first man said, “On the other hand his father is likely to be pissed.”

  “Still might be worth it,” Barney offered in a softer voice.

  The other man chuckled. “Might well be… I think we might be better getting somebody in there with some combat armor on.”

  “Well that rules me out,” Barney said cheerfully. “Tain’t no one here that’s got stuff in my size.”

  I had no idea who this ‘Jesse’ was but I had the feeling that he was not especially well-liked by his compatriots. I filed the information away in case it became useful in the future.

  A third, much smaller craft approached the Kara from the stern. This was clearly a one-man craft and was little more than a powered sled. The sole rider was a man in a bulky first generation battle armor suit. I silently tipped my hat to the man brave enough to wear said suit as it was likely older than I was.

  The sled moved quickly to the Kara’s cargo airlock. Apparently the man in the suit did not think he would fit through the primary airlock… and given the size of the suit he was probably right.

  I switched the visual feeds my AI was overlaying on my optic nerves to the cameras on our cargo deck. I saw the intruder cycle the airlock and slowly make his way in. As soon as the outer airlock door shut I decided it was time to have some fun. I instructed the ship’s AI to cycle the gravity in the cargo bay from zero to two G and back again ten times a second. It took about thirty seconds but the hapless victim was struggling to get out of the airlock in no time… having puked inside his combat armor.

  Understand, I’ve never had the experience of puking in combat armor personally but I understand from speaking with those that have, that it is a completely unpleasant experience. The fact that this was first generation equipment and therefore did not have top-tier air purification systems built in… meant that our visitor was going to have to live with his lunch in an up close and personal way for however long it took him to ride his power sled to a location where he could safely remove said armor. Cleaning it after the fact promised to be a real treat as well.

  Hedy and Duffy sent me virtual thumbs up. It’s nice to have one’s work appreciated by one’s peers.

  After several minutes of heated discussion and no small amount of swearing the Donalites decided on a plan that involved dumping a small EMP device inside the cargo hold. Electro Magnetic Pulse or EMP devices would not seriously damage the military grade systems like those onboard the Kara but they would disable them while the various impacted systems cycled through a reboot sequence.

  In point of fact, the Kara’s AI was based on more advanced Heshe technology so the EMP would have little impact on it. That said, it was our intent to allow the pirates access to the ship eventually so I instructed the AI to simulate a reboot so our new friends could gain access to the ship.

  In fairness to the Donalites, they could have abused the three of us quite badly as our cover involved simulated unconsciousness. It seemed our conversations with Barney had prompted the pirates to consider the option of recruiting us. As a result, they only kicked us and dropped us a few times as they carried us from the ship into a holding area somewhere in the Potato Farm.

  Fortunately our fully functional military-grade nanites allowed us to become completely flaccid by interrupting the flow of nerve signals between our brains and the rest of our bodies. Had we truly been cashiered out of the military those nanites would have been systematically flushed out of our bodies. Instead, for this mission we were actually enhanced with a newly developed upgraded set of nanites that included numerous counter-intelligence capabilities.

  The medical diagnostics we had earlier run against a sample of the neurotoxin Barney had dosed us with indicated we would not normally wake up without a counter agent being administered. About two hours after we were wrestled onto beds in what I suspected would be a medical bay of some type, I heard the approach of a number of men and at least one woman.

  As my eyes were closed due to my supposed unconsciousness, I could not tell for sure what was going on. I felt my shipsuit unzipped from the shoulder and medical sensors affixed to my chest and forehead. This told me all I needed to know about the state of their medical facilities. The technology they were using predated the Heshe and would be no problem to spoof with my medical nanites. I relayed the information to Hedy and Duffy via their implants.

  “The big one seems to have a minimal dose,” I heard the female say.

  “Aye,” a voice I knew to be Big Barney replied. “Turns out he’s not a big fan of peach liqueur. That other oaf, on the other hand, might well have ingested enough to take down a pack mule.”

  “Well, they are all young and strong. It should be no problem reviving them. Are you sure this is what Tic wants?”

  “We discussed it at some length. Greasy was call’n for spacing them given his bad day with arfing all over everything and all but Domhnall saw the wisdom of offering them a chance to be a part of the Earth First movement.”

  “When was the last time you were ever in favor of spacing a crew? Face it little man… you are not a killer,” the woman said with a gentle voice.

  “What can I say darl’n… it’s what ya like about me… taint it?”

  “Ok then,” the woman snorted with a mild chuckle. “Let’s start with their leader and see where that takes us.”

  I felt a needle in my arm and a flood of what my medical nanites identified as a Trimethylamine N-oxide derivative entered my blood stream. The chemical was quickly sequestered by my nanites and moved safely to my bladder. My AI predicted that I should respond in a couple of minutes and that a headache would be a logical side effect of the pharmacological abuse my body was taking.

 

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