In the story so far Whitey's raiders, a company of mercenaries, are tricked into taking part of an attack as part of the "Revolution." The Spaceship, Stardiver four, is captured and in the hands of pirates. The battle is over and the business of operating the ship begins.
Years of hard living as a mercenary, a bounty hunter, and occasional fugitive taught Whitey to get by with little sleep when he had to. He grunted as he climbed out of the bunk and stood up stretching, "Crap. That will have to do. Let's find out how bad it is." He had a sense that the operation was coming apart. He lived like a hunter and he solved problems like a hunter- by stalking around, probing, and looking.
Emerging from the docked shuttle he scanned the bay converted into their base. Some men were sleeping in corners and makeshift shelters. Three wounded men lay on mats. He silently came to where they lay; two were asleep but a third opened his eyes as Whitey knelt beside him.
"How are you doing son?" Whitey whispered.
"Medic says I'll be cleared for light duty in 22 hours or less."
"Good, I'm glad to hear it. And these guys, do you know how they are?"
"I heard medic wants to clear them sooner."
"The hard fighting is done. Get some rest."
"Boss?"
"Yes?"
"Are we going to take on Stone's gang?"
"Not without a good reason. But if we do it will be quick and easy. Now get some rest."
Whitey walked the entire perimeter of the shuttle bay studying everything and getting a sense of the moral of his men. Even when they were sleeping he could sense their mood. The men slept behind barricades made out of equipment and slept with hands on weapons. Those on guard were nervous. "Not good," He said to no one. "But it's been worse."
Reentering the shuttle he pulled the curtain back and looked at the mess that was left of O'bee's face. The pirate groaned in his sleep. Stitches ran across the fat man's cheeks, nose and neck. Misshapen bandages wrapped his hands.
"We couldn't save all his fingers." The medic rolled off a couch and stood behind Whitey. "He lost two on his right and one on his left. Flesh torn up like that is not something we do well; it is not normal combat injury."
"Well," Whitey shook his head. "We need him to live. He or somebody needs to hack into the computer and get this ship running. Tell Bill, I'm on patrol."
As Whitey left two guards followed him out. He turned to look at them tilting his head and raising his eyebrows in a question.
"Bill says to, Boss." One said shrugging.
Whitey sighed and continued. They began a circuit of the huge ship. Two hours of walking and quick glances into rooms, corridors, halls, and different sections was only a beginning of information gathering on the big ship.
They stopped at a door, one of many so far. The light over the door was lit red; the touch pad next to the door was gray with a big red “X” flashing on it. Whitey sighed. “Crap. That is another gun mount that is breached. How many does that make, James?”
___________________________
Chapter 51
Command Code Required
Command Code Required
Years of hard living as a mercenary, a bounty hunter, and occasional fugitive taught Whitey to get by with little sleep when he had to. He grunted as he climbed out of the bunk and stood up stretching, "Crap. That will have to do. Let's find out how bad it is." He had a sense that the operation was coming apart. He lived like a hunter and he solved problems like a hunter- by stalking around, probing, and looking.
Emerging from the docked shuttle he scanned the bay converted into their base. Some men were sleeping in corners and makeshift shelters. Three wounded men lay on mats. He silently came to where they lay; two were asleep but a third opened his eyes as Whitey knelt beside him.
"How are you doing son?" Whitey whispered.
"Medic says I'll be cleared for light duty in 22 hours or less."
"Good, I'm glad to hear it. And these guys, do you know how they are?"
"I heard medic wants to clear them sooner."
"The hard fighting is done. Get some rest."
"Boss?"
"Yes?"
"Are we going to take on Stone's gang?"
"Not without a good reason. But if we do it will be quick and easy. Now get some rest."
Whitey walked the entire perimeter of the shuttle bay studying everything and getting a sense of the moral of his men. Even when they were sleeping he could sense their mood. The men slept behind barricades made out of equipment and slept with hands on weapons. Those on guard were nervous. "Not good," He said to no one. "But it's been worse."
Reentering the shuttle he pulled the curtain back and looked at the mess that was left of O'bee's face. The pirate groaned in his sleep. Stitches ran across the fat man's cheeks, nose and neck. Misshapen bandages wrapped his hands.
"We couldn't save all his fingers." The medic rolled off a couch and stood behind Whitey. "He lost two on his right and one on his left. Flesh torn up like that is not something we do well; it is not normal combat injury."
"Well," Whitey shook his head. "We need him to live. He or somebody needs to hack into the computer and get this ship running. Tell Bill, I'm on patrol."
As Whitey left two guards followed him out. He turned to look at them tilting his head and raising his eyebrows in a question.
"Bill says to, Boss." One said shrugging.
Whitey sighed and continued. They began a circuit of the huge ship. Two hours of walking and quick glances into rooms, corridors, halls, and different sections was only a beginning of information gathering on the big ship.
They stopped at a door, one of many so far. The light over the door was lit red; the touch pad next to the door was gray with a big red “X” flashing on it. Whitey sighed. “Crap. That is another gun mount that is breached. How many does that make, James?”
James pulled a small screen pad from a pouch in his black battle suit. “Twenty Seven. Three-quarters of the gun mounts we inspected so far are blasted open and exposed to space.”
“Let’s see about that one.” Whitey led the way. “What is it with this ship? Is it some kind of Flying Dutchman or something?”
“Yep, looks like it is bringing us bad luck.” Sam, the other added.
"It was a hard fight." James put in. "The ship took a lot of damage."
“Well, boys. That is more like it.” Whitey’s pleasure was reassuring to the two men. “Finally, an open door.” Whitey and James went through while Sam guarded outside. It was done without discussion on the reflex of training. “Beautiful,” Whitey exclaimed. He was a soldier who loved guns and he was looking at the shiny blue silver cannon barrel that was poised out into space through a clear metal alloy wall. Sitting in the padded gunner’s seat he ran his hands over the controls. Beside the seat was a feed chute where rockets or bombs would come down and feed into the gun. He touched the controls. Nothing happened. He tried them again. “Devil's beard! This is offline just like the others.” He tried the red lever of the manual override; as he did so a screen lit up before him that said, "Locked. Command code required.”
"OK. I know enough. Let's go back to quarters, boys.”
“Hold on, Boss.” Sam said. ” I need to use the lavatory. I see a water room down the way.”
“OK. Let's inspect the toilets.”
Sam and James entered the room together like they were breaking into a house full of guards. With guns out and ready the two slipped into the room. Whitey watched them go in the room and jump back. “Now what?”
“Looks like the toilets are offline too.”
“No. You’re kidding.” Whitey entered. The stench was choking and the sewage gasses burned his eyes. He pulled out the emergency hood from the collar of his space suit; it flipped a clear plastic bubble over his head and inflated with oxygen. He saw dark muck slowly flowing over the top of the toilet. He went to the sink. The mirror did not light up. The dark image in the dim glass was a surprise. He needed a shower, his face was streaked with sweat and grime. He tried to turn on the water in the faucet. Nothing came out. He hit it with his fist, still no water. "Damn, this is bad."
Whitey came out and stalked up the corridor to find the little cabinet door a few feet away. He pried it open with this knife and studied the dials and buttons. One button said "Manual." another said, "Auto clean." He touched the button. It didn’t change color. The monitor flashed the words “Command Code Required.” He pushed the manual button and the same message flashed across the screen. “Boys, when we get to quarters take an inventory of water, the purification filters and tablets everything to make water drinkable. Our problems are getting worse by the minute.”
They started back to the shuttle bay. Whitey stopped. His men took two more steps before realizing he was not with them. Turning they saw their leader running back to the gun. When they caught up to him he was crouching beside the cannon and looking down the barrel. He stepped to the right and looked again, and froze. “Hell-fire. Do you remember if the moon was to the left or the right of the gun?”
“Left.”
“Not anymore. We are drifting.”
"Are you sure it is not the orbit of the planet or something?"
"No, that would take it the other way. We are drifting."
They all stared at the scene of space watching the distant moon. None actually saw it move but felt sure that it was. The men waited knowing Whitey would have orders, he always came up with a plan.
“Sam, go back to our quarters, have whoever is on guard get the group leaders. Convey my instructions about the water, and tell them about the ship drifting in space. Begin that inventory of water purification systems and start rationing water. I want a search of the ship to find any water. If we find any- we take it. Understand? It must be under our control. James come with me.”
Whitey turned and began to jog back the way they came. The two climbed frozen automatic stairs and ran at an easy though tired lope jumping over scattered furniture and equipment that was thrown about during the battle. There were doors barring their way that had to be pried open to continue. The command center was up another level but the gravity was off for the stars, so they held the railings and pulled themselves up. Whitey saw the command center door a few hundred feet up the corridor. He expected to see at least one if not two guards but Stone's men were nowhere. He stopped.
Whitey and James looked at each other. “What do you think Jimmy? Did the space cops get back here and take over the command center?”
“I don’t know, Boss. But you are right it is too quiet.”
“One way to find out.” Whitey pulled the gun from his holster with his right hand; his left hand reached behind his back and drew another gun. They slid forward as silently as cats, eyes alert, searching for any sign that told of danger. Nearing the door they heard voices. Whitey stopped and listened. "Damn stupid computer." One voice said. "I can't get it to take this program either." Whitey stepped through the door. Inside four pirates sat at terminals, another was turning the pages of a notebook, another was angrily stabbing the screen of an electronic notepad with his finger.
“Where is your Captain? Where is Stonebutt?” The men jumped at Whiteys barked demand. “Isn’t he supposed to be in command? Where is he?” Whitey was angry that the Captain was not at the logical post. “Well. Where is he?”
“Lieutenant, don’t shoot. Please,” one begged. “We are trying to get the command code out of the computer.”
Whitey slid the gun in its place at his back belt while lowering the other. James having received no signal remained poised to fire. Whitey walked around the consoles to look at the terminal they were working on. “What have you done so far?”
“I ran a cracker program, but this is not like any computer system I have ever seen. I tried two hack, seek, and retrieve operations but nothing. I have tried to run a diagnostic but the computer is dodging it. There are layers of security I have never encountered before.”
“Have you looked around to see if it is written or stored anywhere?”
“Yes, lieutenant, we have torn this place up.”
“Find the code quick, the ship is drifting. I’ll see if any of my guys can help and send them up here.
"What about O'bee." Another pirate spoke up. "He might be able to hack into this."
"That dog ripped off three of his fingers. But as soon as he is awake we will send him to help."
Don’t drink any water without making sure it is not contaminated. And where is Stonebutt?”
“He is probably in the Captain’s Quarters.”
Whitey turned and left. James stepped back out the door while facing the pirates, his gun still threatening them. Once away Whitey said, “James do you know who that was?”
“No sir. Who?”
“That hacker is Allen Diamond. He is the guy who hacked the computers of the Twelve Stars Banks. He had transferred all the money of all sorts of planets into his own account. He hacked the weapons systems computers of the Aries twelve and held the Five Planet’s security for ransom. That is just a few of his accomplishments in cyber-crime.”
“Did he succeed? I mean did he get any money?”
“Yep, zillions, and he spent it all. That is how they caught him. He cried like a baby when they tried and sentenced him to a thousand lifetimes in prison.”
“Then what is he doing here?”
“The Supreme Commander liberated the prison and took the prisoners for her army."
"He is not having much luck by the look of it."
"There is only one greater hacker living and he is in our shuttle recovering from a dog attack, between the two of them they should get it."
The Captain's quarters were close by on the same level as the command center. It was easy to find. Whitey saw the boots cleaned and polished on the floor outside the door.
“Well, at least, the Captain has a guard at his room.” He laughed at his joke. The thought occurred to him. No guard. He raised his gun. “Let’s take care of this now.” He whispered with a wink to James.
“Take care of what?” Said the woman’s voice.
Whitey turned and cursed himself for not seeing her before. She stood in the door behind them.
“Well, Security Officer Raggedy-Ann, how long have you been standing there?”
“It's Ragga-Aon, and I've been here long enough, Whitey. “
“Did you know the ship is drifting?”
“No, Isn’t that the engineer’s problem?”
“It’s the Captain’s if it is anybody’s. Does he know?”
“No one knows what he knows.”
“Are you going to let me go in and tell him?”
“If it suits me.” She said coldly. “How much is it drifting? A click an hour, a meter or kilometer or a hundred kilometers an hour? How much?”
“It’s drifting, and that is bad enough.”
“It is not drifting that much and nothing is going to happen until the computer is online anyway. So why don’t you go about your duties and I will let Captain Stone know when it is prudent to tell him.”
“Blast.” Whitey turned and walked away. James took a few steps backward watching the Security officer then turned and followed his leader.
"Hey."
Whitey turned.
"I want it back." she said, as two more red uniformed security officers stepped out the door into the hall.
"What my dear? What do you want?"
"My blaster gun."
They were evenly matched, he and James against the three of them but there would be more security nearby. He sighed. "It is too small for a real fight." He reached around and drew out the small gun. "Nice balance, though. Next time you try to pull a weapon on me be ready to use it because one of us will die." His thumb touched a button on the side and the ammunition tumbled out of the top breach. Placing the gun on an overturned shelf he turned and left.
Whitey's thoughts were grim and his mood was angry as they traveled the hundreds of yards back to the shuttle bay base.
Bamm! Zaaaap! Weapons fire was near.
With weapons in their hands Whitey and Jim slowly crept toward the noise of men yelling and fighting.
"Whitey to base," He spoke to his collar radio.
"Boss?" Bill answered
"Status. Are all things quiet, is everybody accounted for?"
“Nothing to report. Boss. Beta team was working on engineering, Delta was trying to get the ships weapons operational C team was inspecting environmental and Alpha was on rest rotation but now everybody is following your last orders about the water.”
I'm hearing small weapons fire.
It's not any of us boss. You need reinforcements?"
"No. I think I know what it is."
Whitey and Jim crept forward. The weapons fire ceased, and men were yelling until a few more shots were fired.
At a portal to a lounge Whitey and Jim stopped. They could hear angry voices inside.
"Damn it, Butch. Look what we did, man. Did you have to argue with him? When Captain Stone or security finds out they will toss us out an airlock."
"He won't find out because no one will tell him."
"Butch no!"
Bam! Bam! thud.
Looking around the door Whitey saw the scene of a drunken brawl, fifteen men were dead around the lounge. Bottles of liquor covered tables.
He stepped back as a drunken pirate staggered out of the room a weapon in one hand and a bottle of hard liquor in another. The drunk took two steps and sat down turning his back to the wall. Looking up at the two men, he put the bottle to his lips and slid over asleep, the whiskey spilling out. He began to snore.
Whitey and Jim stepped over the man and continued back to the shuttle.
"Well, Boss that is about a dozen we won't have to worry about."
I wouldn't be surprised if we find more like it all over the ship.
(c) Adron
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