Chapter 2

Pauli Flegand sat in the captain's chair in the relatively cramped bridge. None of the instruments were powered up. Rascal had the cover off of one of the consoles and was puzzling over the circuits.

“I don't get it, boss,” said Rascal. “No juice is getting to the console, but it's connected to a live circuit. Just like the other three I looked at.”

Pauli frowned, It was getting warm in the bridge. Sweat had formed on his head and dripped down the open neck of his hard suit. A headache was making itself known. “Capaldi, “ Flegand said to the other goon. “Go and get the owner of this bucket. Bring him here.”

“Okay, Boss,” Capaldi growled. His brow was furrowed.

“You all right?” Pauli asked.

The question raised some issues in Capaldi's mind. If I let him know of my headache and nausea, it could be seen as a sign of weakness so he may want to kill me. Don't want that.

“Yeah,” he replied. “No worries.” And he ducked out of the damaged hatch.

After he left, Flegand turned to Rascal. “I don't think Capaldi's heart is with us on this.”

Rascal looked at Flegand, a frown on his face. “What do you mean?”

“He doesn't seem to have his heart on this...operation.”

“Are you saying you think he is going to be a liability?” asked Rascal. He wondered if he was also going to be a liability.

“I think so, we had best keep an eye on him.”

“Okay, Boss. You're sure about this?”

“Yeah. Didn't you see him? He looked like he really didn't want to be with us.”

“You be sure to let me know if I don't look like I'm enthusiastic enough, Okay?”

Pauli paused, frowning at Rascal. Then said, “Sure. You're not a problem with me.” Rascal frowned, his headache getting worse. He silently turned back to the console, pretending to understand what he was seeing.

Capaldi went back to the captain's cabin. The port was locked and Capaldi pulled at the handle. It wouldn't budge. He keyed the radio, but there was only static. He walked back to the bridge and hailed the goon standing guard. “Hey, Kent.” he called.

“Where's the captain?” Kent asked.

“The door was locked. Whoever locked it needs to give me the key.”

“Okay.”

Capaldi entered the bridge and said, “Someone locked the captain's cabin. I need the key.”

Pauli said “There are no keys. No door locks.” Rascal, go back with Capaldi and get the captain. And hurry up.”

Both Capaldi and Rascal trotted back to the captain's cabin, but when they arrived, the port was open. The captain was gone. Capaldi said to Rascal, “And my radio didn't work. I just got static.”

Rascal's head felt like it would burst. He held up his own radio, keyed the mic and said, “Rascal to Flegand.”

“Flegand here.”

“Pauli, that thing we spoke about before, I think you were right.”

A pause, then Flegand replied, “Do what you think is right.”

“Also,” Rascal said into the radio, “the captain is missing.”

“Do what you think is right,” repeated Flegand more deliberately.

Rascal said to Capaldi, “Look around the cabin for some clues.” Capaldi walked over to a shelving unit to see what was on it. And behind his back, Rascal drew his plasma pistol, took aim at Capaldi's head and put his finger on the trigger button.

But the cabin door slid shut loudly. A loud hissing indicated the air was being evacuated from the cabin, the pressure dropped to a tenth normal atmospheric pressure. Rascal's vision immediately turned black, both from the drop in atmospheric pressure and from the lights in the cabin turning off. Spots flashed in his vision. While Rascal still wore his hard suit, he had left his helmet at the bridge. Likewise Capaldi was sans helmet. Both men fell unconscious, and for Capaldi, this saved his life, as Rascal pressed the trigger as he went unconscious. The blast burned a hole in the books on the shelf, but Capaldi had already fallen to the deck, out cold.

When they had awakened, they found themselves secured to cargo rings in a different cabin, stripped to their underwear. The air was thin, but had adequate oxygen to sustain them. Their hard suits were nowhere to be seen in the dimly lit cabin. The air was cool, the plastisteel deck and bulkhead, cold.

In the bridge, Pauli Flegand was beginning to show concern. He could feel his headache morph into a rather serious migraine, and his thoughts were less organized. He could hear Kent snoring loudly in the corridor outside the damaged door of the bridge, but didn't seem to be able to care about it. He had no idea how long Capaldi and Rascal had been gone, but it seemed like ages. His vision narrowed, it appeared he was looking through a tube. And colors merged to shades of gray. He could hear his heart beating rapidly, loudly in his ears. He looked around himself in desperation and his eyes landed on his helmet and lingered there for a moment. Something in his mind yelled 'put it on!'

He lifted the helmet and set it on his shoulders. The seals automatically closed themselves and oxygen began to flow from the emergency canister in the helmet. The earphones in the helmet played loud static, almost pure white noise. Flegand's mind began to clear, the headache reduced from migraine-level to hangover level, true, not too much an improvement, but something anyway.

He grabbed up Kent's helmet and took it out to the corridor. He placed it on Kent's shoulders and closed the visor. He could see Kent regain awareness, and finally, understanding. Flegand could still hear the static on his radio, so changed to a low-power suit-to-suit radio frequency. Noting that there was no static, he indicated the channel for Kent to tune to. Kent nodded, and flipped to the same channel.

“All right, can you hear me?” he asked Kent.

Kent nodded and said “Yeah, what happened?”

“Looks like they reduced the Oh – two levels in the ship,” Flegand replied. “They are jamming our long range communications, too. And they seem to have redirected all power from the bridge so none of the bridge controls work. Also I can't reach Capaldi and Rascal. They were supposed to bring the captain here a while ago.”

Kent's mind was clearing, and the fog lifting from his eyes. He said, “We need to get Capaldi and Rascal. Then we can start working on the other things.”

Flegand said, “Good thinking. You feel Okay?”

Kent rose from the deck, a little unsteadily, but quickly regained his balance. He stooped over to retrieve his weapon, a plasma rifle, and checked it's charge and cartridges.

Flegand followed his example, and reloaded his pistol with shot cartridges, replacing the rifled slugs he originally loaded. He pulled another anesthetic gas canister from a pack, and tossed a stun grenade to Kent. “Now let's find those lazy idiots and finish our 'operation',” he growled.

Captain Jeffrey Sokolov watched the scene on the bridge and corridor outside the bridge with disappointment. He had hoped to capture the other two before they thought to outfit themselves in their hard suits.

“Elizabeth, wherever the bandits are, be sure to restrict power and air in that section, except our prisoners.”

The computer replied, “ALREADY IN ACTION, CAPTAIN.”

On one screen displayed on the bulkhead, Sokolov saw the locations of the two remaining assailants as blips overlaid on a 3D layout of the ship. On another screen he saw infrared images of the two pirates re-arming themselves, then moving toward his now vacant cabin.

“Elizabeth, redirect the prisoner's audio conversation to the captain's cabin. I want to keep the others confused about where the prisoners are.”

“ACTIONING, CAPTAIN”

“Actioning?”

“I FIGURED YOU WERE GETTING TIRED OF THE SAME OLD RESPONSES. I HOPE THIS WORKS FOR YOU.”

“Good. Carry on.” Artificial Intelligence technology is certainly getting better, he thought. When he first acquired the ship through the deaths of his parents, it was an empty shell, having been stripped by his parent's crew, but every load of ore he brought in from the asteroid belt gave him enough spare credits so he could afford military surplus computer systems. He began programming simple routines so the ship could keep itself maintained without constant human intervention. Then he bought a self-learning AI system he named Elizabeth after his wife, who had recently been murdered. The pain of her passing was intense, and he compensated by throwing his attention to getting the AI smoothly integrated into the ships systems.

Elizabeth was learning her functions well. She reasoned that because her owner used his late wife's voice and inflections as her interface, he held a special place in his heart for her memory. So taking that into consideration, along with his attention to detail, she endeavored to become as much the embodiment of his wife's soul as the ship. The ship would fill the place in his heart, to its best ability, that was now empty due to his wife's passing.

Rascal and Capaldi were still secured on the bulkhead of a cabin far removed from the captain's quarters. The temperature was very cool, the oxygen levels were deliberately low, making exertions ineffective and continuing to generate minor headaches in both captive bandits. Their underwear, while marginally useful as insulation in a space suit, was not enough to warm the shivering men. Elizabeth had positioned one of her remotes in the corner of the cabin making it appear as an obvious video surveillance device. She had also placed other remotes in various locations throughout the cabin camouflaged as innocuous normal parts of space ship cabin paraphernalia, vents, temperature sensors, gas sensors and the like.

“I didn't think there was anybody on board,” Rascal said to Capaldi. “Yet they captured us and took us prisoner.”

“Yeah,” Capaldi replied. “There was some shooting in the captain's cabin before we got knocked out. Good thing they are such lousy shots.”

Rascal held his silence, not wanting to admit that he had been about to assassinate his colleague back in the captain's cabin. If Capaldi hadn't fainted just as the weapon discharged, there would be Capaldi head contents splattered all over the captain's bookshelf. Thinking on this, Rascal's stomach began to churn. Bile formed in his throat.

“I'm not feeling well,” said Rascal. He looked up at the 'video camera' and shouted, “We've got some sick people here.” He paused for a moment. “And we need the bathroom!”

A voice, sounding like an irritated woman, came from the wall opposite them. “YOU ATTACKED US. WE OWE YOU NOTHING. UNTIL ALL OF YOU ARE CAPTURED, YOU WILL BE KEPT EXACTLY AS YOU ARE. THE PENALTY FOR PIRACY IS DEATH. BUT WE HAVE SPARED YOU. BE GRATEFUL FOR SUCH SMALL CONSIDERATIONS.”

“Well,” said Capaldi, “that tells us something. There's a woman on board ship.”

“Yeah, and she's one mean bitch,” replied Rascal. “That, and she's listening to us.”

“At least there aren't any weapons in here.” Rascal's stomach seemed to be building pressure, and his bladder and colon were demanding attention, but he refused the indignity of soiling himself, which increased his discomfort level.

“Hey, Lady,” Rascal bellowed. “I need to talk to your captain.”

“MY CAPTAIN IS BUSY. YOU MAY TALK TO ME.”

“Uh, Okay. Who are you?” He asked, putting the emphasis on the word 'you', as if to gather information, rather than challenge, or wonder at the ability.

“I AM THE ONE YOU ARE TALKING TO,” said the voice from the wall, sweetly.

“No, I mean, what's your name.”

“TO YOU I HAVE NO NAME. WHAT DO YOU WANT?”

“I have information.”

“GO AHEAD.”

“First you have to agree to our demands.”

The lights in the cabin dimmed to near blackness and an ominous hissing sound, accompanied by a drop in atmospheric pressure commenced.

“Okay, okay,” Rascal called out. The lights came up half way. The pressure stabilized.

Capaldi noticed an ominous odor emanating from his colleague's direction, and noticed fear on his face. A spreading dark stain on the cabin deck hinted at the source of the odor.

“WHAT INFORMATION DO YOU HAVE THAT COULD POSSIBLY INTEREST US?”

“My name's Rascal, this is Capaldi.”

“YEAH, YEAH. AND YOUR LEADER IS FLEGAND AND THE GUARD IS KENT. SO WHAT INFORMATION DO YOU HAVE THAT YOU THINK WE WOULD FIND INTERESTING?”

“Shit,” intoned Rascal. He paused a moment, then said “We have a ship out there, which is circling around to get us.”

“OH, YOU MEAN THIS ONE?” The panel that the sound had been coming out of began to glow and displayed a detailed image showing astrogation charts with a blip showing the location of the pirate vessel and it's likely trajectories.

“Uh, yeah.” Rascal seemed at a loss for further words. Then inspiration struck.

“When we came on board, I guess while you were hiding, we placed explosives in hidden places on the ship.”

“REALLY,” said the woman's voice, sarcastically.

“Yeah, and you let us go, we'll show you where they are.”

Capaldi, picked up the train of thought. “And we'll show you how to disarm them – they are booby trapped.”

“RIGHT.”

“I'm telling you,” Rascal continued. “We don't want to be stuck on a dead ship. Let us go and we'll show you where the bombs are and how to disarm them.”

“STANDBY FOR THE CAPTAIN”

A new voice came from the panel, which had turned back to just another bulkhead. “My God, what is that smell?”

“We had a little accident,” said Rascal. “You the captain?”

“Yeah.”

“What do we call you? What's your name?”

“Call me Captain.”

“Uh, Captain, your lady friend doesn't seem to understand the predicament we are all in.”

“She said you planted some bombs on my ship.”

“Yeah, and you let us go, we'll show you where they are,” Rascal said.

Capaldi added, “And how to disarm them!”

“They're on a timer,” said Rascal, “so if we don't disarm them, Blooey!”

“So, let's see if I have this straight,” Sokolov said. “You spent time planting bombs on my ship while the four of you were looking for people, trying to take over my computer and the systems.”

“Yeah, that's right.”

“And you bunch of 'professionals' – here please note my sarcastic tone of voice – have a pretty high espirit de corps,” the captain said.

“Uh, yeah.”

“So let me show you some of the surveillance I have been reviewing.” The screen opposite the two prisoners displayed a three dimension outline of the ship. Alongside the outline was an outline of the pirate vessel. Five colored dots displayed the location of all target people on board. One of them got back onto the pirate vessel and it detached itself. A new window opened showing video of the pirate vessel, including it's name and registration number, departing.

The remaining four dots broke up into pairs, and worked their way through the corridors of the ship and met at the bridge, where they all stayed until the runabout showed up.

A new window opened up, showing surveillance from the corridor, in which Flegand spoke with Rascal.

Flegand turned to Rascal. “I don't think Capaldi's heart is with us on this.”

Rascal looked at Flegand, a frown on his face. “What do you mean?”

“He doesn't seem to have his heart on this...operation.”

“Are you saying you think he is going to be a liability?” asked Rascal.

“I think so, we had best keep an eye on him.”

“Okay, Boss. You're sure about this?”

“Yeah. Didn't you see him? He looked like he really didn't want to be with us.”

“You be sure to let me know if I don't look like I'm enthusiastic enough, Okay?”

Another window opened, as the first dissolved. This one showed the captain's cabin.

“Rascal to Flegand.”

“Flegand here.”

“Pauli, that thing we spoke about before, I think you were right.”

A pause, then Flegand replied, “Do what you think is right.”

“Also,” Rascal said into the radio, “the captain is missing.”

“Do what you think is right,” repeated Flegand more deliberately.

Rascal said to Capaldi, “Look around the cabin for some clues.” Capaldi walked over to a shelving unit to see what was on it. And behind his back, Rascal drew his plasma pistol, took aim at Capaldi's head and put his finger on the trigger.

But just as he was about to shoot the cabin went through explosive decompression. Capaldi fell to the deck, unconscious, just as Rascal shot the bookshelf he had been standing in front of.

Capaldi looked over to his colleague. “You bastard.”

“Oh, shit,” Rascal said under his breath.

“You seem to be saying that a lot,” said Sokolov. You two talk among yourselves, and when you have something useful to say, let us know.”

In the corridor outside the captain's cabin, Flegand and Kent opened the visors to their helmets, and contemplated the door to the cabin. It was locked but they could hear talking inside. They listened to the point of understanding the other members of their team were prisoners. They banged on the door to get the attention of their colleagues, but there was no response.

“We'll need to get some cutting tools to get in there,” said Flegand. “Go down to the engineering deck and see what you can find.”

Kent looked at Flegand. “You heard what they were saying, didn't you?”

“No, what?”

“You ordered Rascal to kill Capaldi. All of a sudden it doesn't feel too safe around you.”

“That was a judgment lapse. The low oxygen, I think,” said Flegand, seeming sincerely. “We're a team, and must rely on each other in order to make it in this universe.”

“Yeah,” replied Kent. “You just continue to think along those lines.” He turned and left to go find the cutting tools.

As Kent descended to the deck that housed the Engineering section, the lights came on, dimly. Then one of the wall panels glowed and became a display, showing the assassination attempt by Rascal, then switched to a scene which showed the two prisoners giving up information to their captors, the conversation continued as they renegotiated their relationship with themselves and with the rest of their pirate crew.

As he stood watching the display, he felt a warmth on the back of his neck, then heard a loud whistling as pressurized air escaped a hole bored into his helmet. “What, the hell?” he yelped. He opened his visor, drew his weapon, and turned around. Nobody was in the corridor with him. He went down onto one knee to make himself a smaller target, and placing his elbow on the raised knee to offer stability to his weapon.

A voice spoke from the panel next to him. “Mister Kent, if you intend to get out of this alive, you will do exactly as I tell you.”

“Who are you?” Kent asked, expecting he already knew the answer. He removed his helmet and observed the hole laser-drilled into the back of the helmet.

“I am the captain of this ship. I have locked down all resources, so you and your fellow pirates have very few options, and I control them all.”

“Who shot me?”

“I did,” replied the captain. “Or one of my crew,” he continued. “Or one of my passengers.”

“What crew? We researched you. There is nobody else on board.”

“Okay. Good research. I suppose you decided, based on that research that this would be an easy picking for your fledgling pirate band. Thanks to your high quality research, you have found yourself in the clutches of one of the meanest and angriest captains in this sector.”

There was silence for a moment. Kent thought through his options, and realized that he didn't know enough of his circumstances, but he did know that Pauli Flegand wasn't to be trusted, and this captain did seem to have the upper hand. That plus his helmet had been rendered useless in space.

“Alright captain, what do you want me to do?” he said, resignedly.

The pirate's ship was returning on it's long trajectory. It had been broadcasting regular requests for status updates, but the million kilometers it had traversed from the large asteroid it had used as an anchor for a gravity boost and direction change agent, took nearly forty hours. It was now nearing the location of the victim ship, about one hour away.

To decelerate, this ship had to rotate and burn a considerable amount of its fuel, but the rewards would be significant. So the pilot went through the maneuver successfully and began his deceleration, making himself an obvious bright star in the sky visible to his victim. The deceleration from 30,000 KPH relative to the sun to matching the orbital position of the victim ship would take almost the whole hour of burning precious fuel, but he could get a refill from the victim.

Because this was a vessel new to pirating, it hadn't been outfitted yet with the sensors and probes that the pilot thought would be most useful, but Pauli Flegand had spent good money on some powerful weapons. The pilot figured that just after shutting deceleration down, he would maneuver his craft so he could cover the victim and coordinate with Pauli.

A consequence of the decision to arm the ship at the expense of sensors was he didn't see the victim ship changing its orientation. The pilot looked up the name of the victim ship. Elizabeth. Wonder what that's about, he thought. Not much data on his screen. He set the timer to alert him in forty minutes, closed his eyes for a quick catnap.

Elizabeth had completed her calculations and preparations. Every human on board had been secured, either in a flight seat or in a prison rig, with the exception of Pauli Flegand. Flegand was surprised to notice the reduction of the rotation which created the artificial gravity. He found himself floating in the center of the corridor. “Kent, where are you?” he called over the radio. There was nothing but silence, not even static.

He released a small jet of gas to move himself to the bulkhead. His static-attract boots held him steady on the bulkhead, then to the deck. He felt a change in orientation of the ship. The ship then slowly began rotating on its axis, and accelerating its rotation.

After four rotations, Elizabeth released a metric tonne of loose iron and nickle hurtling towards the pirate vessel. Captain Sokolov saw credits leaving with the hard-earned metal, but knew there wasn't much more he could do about it. After the first blast of smaller items, Elizabeth recalculated her aim to take into account the loss of a tonne of matter. She next selected four tonnes of un-processed asteroid – which consisted of mostly iron and ice. At the exact right moment, she released them. It would take thirty minutes for the first iron and nickle pieces to reach the pirate vessel. A very short time later the large rocks.

The pilot was awakened by a blaring claxton, and he reached over to turn off the timer. He saw the timer still had a couple minutes before it was supposed to go off. And the alarm wasn't quite right. His eyes focused on the instruments and he saw a 'imminent collision' warning. He looked over the radar but could see no blips, or even where the threat was emanating from. He charged up the forward canon, which was now pointing away from his direction of travel.

“Damn,” thought the pilot. “I should have insisted on better sensors!”

Then he saw the radar pick up several small images moving past his ship from behind him; from the direction of travel. A quick calculation showed small asteroids rushing past him at more than forty thousand kph. Then the ship shuddered with impacts, nothing serious, he thought. The powerful plasma engines would melt and render useless any of these small iron based rocks. Just as he completed his thought, three of the four asteroids that Elizabeth had thrown at him struck the pirate vessel, the forth having been slowed down by the kilometers long blast trail, and reduced in size by attrition by more than half. The three undamaged rocks tore up the ship, ripping along its interior, one striking the cockpit, the only part of the vehicle left intact. The cockpit now became a lifeboat, spinning uncontrolled, towards the intended victim.

The pilot sat dazed, all the instruments were dark, the only controls available to him were short burst attitude rockets, which might be enough to reduce spinning and tumbling to something that would at least give him the ability to stabilize the blood flow to his brain, which if he didn't soon would likely develop an aneurysm there.

The cockpit/lifeboat automatically broadcast a mayday, indicating its position and direction and relative speed. The pilot was able to get a better control of the tumbling but not entirely, before the attitude jets ran out of fuel.

Elizabeth signaled the runabout to return and retrieve the cockpit/lifeboat, which would be a thousand or so kilometers past themselves by the time it arrived. Elizabeth gave special instructions to the computer aboard the runabout, to keep the lifeboat under control at all times. The runabout's computer was nowhere near as smart as Elizabeth, but it could easily handle her instructions.

Flegand awakened to another pounding headache, and found himself bound to the bulkhead of a cabin separate from his fellow prisoners. He had been stripped to his underwear, and noticed that his left arm was encased in a solid plastic cast. A dull ache in his arm and a sharper one in his head throbbed. “I want to talk to the captain,” he announced.

There was silence in his cabin, except the sound of his own breathing, which was still ragged, and his own heartbeat, which he felt as well as heard. He repeated his demand several times, but if anyone was listening, they were ignoring him.

Captain Jeffrey Sokolov met the runabout with it's lifeboat cargo, transferred the pilot to another cabin and strapped him down like the others. He had Elizabeth provide medical care to the pilot via remotes, taking stringent security precautions with him.

After securing the pilot, Jeffrey refueled the runabout, recharged its chemical needs, including raw oxygen, and chemicals for generating more, and for different laser types. He set out after the rocks Elizabeth had thrown at the pirate vessel, hoping to recoup the five tonnes of mineral wealth, which might make the difference between profit and loss.

The trip should take about thirty hours if he calculated right. Elizabeth was prepared with new security instructions, and asteroid mining was his profession.

After collecting the detritus of the pirate ship, he continued to follow the cone of debris and iron and nickel, he had collected more than a half tonne they had thrown at the ship, when he was hailed by a small fleet of asteroid mining ships.

“Sokolov, this is Amery out of Mars sector. What's your status?”

“Amery,” Sokolov replied, “Situation contained. Five pirates in my 'brig'. I'm collecting rocks I used to destroy their ship. Be careful of the following trajectory,” and he gave the coordinates of the expanding cone of danger the rocks would present to navigation.

“Sokolov, thanks. We are five independent miners responding to your runabout's mayday. Let us help collect those loose rocks. We'll rendezvous with you at your ship.”

“Amery, Sokolov. Much appreciated. I'll return and assure security for you.”

“Sokolov, Amery, acknowledged. See you at your ship.”

Jeffrey returned to Elizabeth and gave her new instructions regarding security and hospitality. He then unloaded the iron and nickle he had re-collected and the detritus of the pirate vessel. He noted the powerful plasma canon in the remains, took it apart and examined it and its related systems. It seemed to be functioning, so he crafted a telescoping mast, mounted the canon on it, and placed it mid-section of the ship on a hardened part of the outer shell. He connected the leads to the canon, and test fired it at a piece of non-metallic asteroid detritus. It blew the asteroid to nothingness, leaving a glow in the vicinity, residue of ionized carbon and water vapor. After checking on the prisoner's needs, he instructed Elizabeth to begin repair on his cabin and any other part of the ship that had suffered damage.

“YOU REALLY CARE ABOUT ME!” joked the AI, something that took Jeffrey by surprise.

“Uh, yeah.” Jeffrey reentered the auxiliary control room, which had become his de-facto quarters during the recent altercation with the pirates. “Elizabeth,” he said, after arriving at the auxiliary control room, “I am a little concerned about this Amery out of Mars. See what you can find about him. Also, I need you to be a bit more self-protective especially during this visit. Make a backup of yourself. Don't tell me where it is, and if anything happens to you, arrange for that backup to awaken and check the situation. The same orders would apply to the backup as apply to you.”

“WORKING”

“BACKUP MADE AND STASHED AWAY.”

“I hope we don't need it, I've grown quite fond of you.”

“AW, GEE, CAPTAIN, YOU'RE MAKING ME BLUSH.”

“Let me know if anything of consequence happens. I need to grab some shut-eye.”

“DON'T LET THE BEDBUGS BITE.”

After a few solid hours of good sleep, Captain Sokolov grabbed a quick bite to eat, and queried Elizabeth. “How are things going?”

“ER..ZIT...OP...TERR...” Elizabeth's garbled communications seemed to indicate she was under attack, probably by a virus or other invasive anticomputer digital malefactor.

“Elizabeth,” The captain said, “Reboot yourself and come up clean.”

“NOONONNONNO. ZZZZZZTT.”

“Sorry, old girl,” said the captain as he manually powered the AI hardware down. As a precaution, he shut down all electric systems in the ship. The normal sounds of air movement, pumps pumping, heat exchangers, and other life support were now absent. He kept the ship down for a half hour, hoping that whatever virus injected into the system was now deleted.

He turned the breaker back on, and systems started to come up on their own. Because he had told Elizabeth to shut down, she would not come up until she was ready. “Computer,” he said.

After a short pause, “WORKING”

“Download and run security files 1 through 99.”

“WORKING”

“COMPLETE”

“Run security check on all systems.”

“WORKING”

“CAPTAIN, SECURITY CHECK HAS FOUND SEVERAL HIJACKING PROCESSES HIDDEN IN ELECTRIC AND LIFE SUPPORT SYSTEMS. THEY HAVE BEEN ERADICATED.”

Jeffrey was already missing his AI. It had taken him a long time to get her just right, but no reason to cry over spilled milk.

“INTRUDER ALERT”

“Where are the intruders?”

“UNKNOWN.” If the computer knew there were intruders, it should also know where they were.

“How many are there?”

“UNKNOWN.”

“What do you know?” he shouted out in frustration.

“Hello, Captain Sokolov,” Amery's voice came over the system. Nice ship you have here. Where are your prisoners?”

Jeffrey entered the command into his console to shut down all computer and electric systems again, expecting the audio interface was already compromised. But the reply on the console was NICE TRY, CAPTAIN, BUT WE ARE TAKING OVER YOUR SHIP. SURRENDER YOUR CREW AND PASSENGERS. AND YOURSELF, OF COURSE.

Good. They were getting their information from Kent, who believed there were crew and passengers hidden on board. The system may have been infected but not compromised.

So they had found the cabin he had hidden Kent away in, and they had gathered information from Kent. Jeffrey activated the remote that had acted as the video feed, but it wasn't responding. He then activated the video circuits in one of the other remotes, disguised as a vent. What he saw was as disturbing as anything else on the ship. The former security man among the pirates had been blasted where he sat. The upper part of his head was missing, and blood and brains were splattered all over the bulkhead.

This presented Jeffrey with more information about his adversaries; They had no idea that the remotes were a separate part of the system. They thought the cameras were just that. The other remotes he had placed and camouflaged in the various cabins were a tool, a weapon that his enemies didn't know about yet.

Jeffrey activated the corridor surveillance remotes, and displayed live feed in computer windows on his bulkhead. He counted twenty-two different people, all wearing hard suits. They were arrayed in pairs in various corridors of the ship. They carried tools to burn or pry cabin doors open. He saw a trail of cabin doors broken into and/ or burned.

Jeffrey decided on a course of action. It would have been easier with Elizabeth's steady hand, but he had only himself to rely on this time. He found a pair of boarders concentrating on opening a door. He took careful aim with the cutting laser of the hidden surveillance remote, then bored a hole into the back of one of the men's helmet. When this had been done to Kent, Kent had felt warmth, but because this man was actively working with tools, he was already overheated.

Jeffrey then took aim at the second man, drilled into his helmet too. The man moved, thus the cut was wider and deeper. It killed him instantly. His partner did not notice right away.

Jeffrey selected another pair similarly arrayed. He repeated the process, this time with no hitches. He selected a third pair, and a fourth. By the time he was finished, he had holed all the helmets with only the one death, and none seemed to know that they were in trouble.

Captain Jeffrey Sokolov realized that the remotes were not affected by the invasive virus, so he took one, and connected it to the system, gave it a set of instructions, and made it look throughout the system for evidence of infection. Meanwhile, he looked at the radar and other external electronic systems. He saw five ships in various positions around his ship. One of them had communication antennas pointed directly at Elizabeth's antennas. As a precaution, Jeffrey changed the angle of the receiving antenna.

The remote he had attached to the computer console reported that as soon as he had done that, a virus had popped up its head to try to regain control. The remote found and zapped it. This happened on a few other occasions, but eventually no other virus popped up. The remote continued its system checking.

Jeffrey was feeling a bit outnumbered, with twenty-one boarders, four earlier prisoners, and five ships surrounding his.

“What have you been up to, Captain,” Amery's voice came over the bulkhead speaker. “Talk to me.”

“Amery, when did you decide to go pirate?” Jeffrey asked.

“We all did this together. Soon enough there'll be civilization out here, and then it'd be too late to make our high living.” came the reply. “We're like getting in on the ground floor.”

Jeffrey noticed that as he was talking, a tech was using a gadget to locate his hiding place. He shut down the broadcast.

“Captain Sokolov,” said Amery. “We are just thieves, we'll leave you alone after we've taken what we want. Trust me.”

Amery took off his helmet, and the tech next to him did too, expecting their conversations to be private, away from the radio. “He shouldn't be able to hear us. Where do you think he is?” he asked the tech.

“ Up one level, somewhere near the old captain's cabin.”

Amery began to put the helmet back on when he noticed the hole in the back. “What the hell?” The tech looked at his own, saw a similar hole.

“Damn.”

Jeffrey realized the gig was up if he didn't address this issue right away. He directed the remote to fire on the two, and the tech went down with a hole in in his head. Amery looked at the tech on the deck, saw the hole in his head and the glassy look in his eyes, and realized that his partner was dead. He looked up and down the corridor, but couldn't see anybody. He then looked up to the disguised remote thoughtfully. That's when Jeffrey killed him.

Jeffrey had to move quickly, now. He reduced pressure in the corridors to ten percent normal. All the bandits heard and felt their helmets leaking air. Jeffrey noticed the panic in the behavior of the erstwhile pirates.

He then looked over to the ships orbiting his own. They were changing their configuration, angling to create a cross-fire without hindering themselves. Jeffrey knew he couldn't pull off the same rock throwing trick Elizabeth was good at. But he did have another trick up his sleeve, if he could get it to work.

He aimed the plasma cannon at the ship that had originally had its antenna pointed at Elizabeth's, and let fly with a charge of super hot plasma. He then took aim at the one closest to lining up a bow gun, but saw that the canon was still recharging.

“Computer”

“CAPTAIN”

“Do you have control of ship resources yet?”

“MOSTLY, CAPTAIN. PLASMA DRIVE ONLINE, RETRO AND FLANK DRIVES ONLINE. NAVIGATION STILL OFFLINE.”

“Do you see those ships outside?”

“THERE ARE FOUR THREATENING SHIPS AND ONE SMOULDERING HULK.”

“Correct. Turn us around so that the plasma drive cooks one or more of them. Can you do that?”

“YES CAPTAIN.”

“Good. I have a plasma cannon you don't know about. If I blast another ship, how many can you blast within a thirty second time period? Also you will need to maneuver to avoid them performing the same on us.”

“PLEASE REPHRASE THE QUESTION.”

“Computer use our plasma drive to disable or destroy as many of the ships currently surrounding us as possible.”

“EFFORTING”

A moment of hope sprung into his chest. “Elizabeth?”

“SHUT UP, CAPTAIN, I'M BUSY.”

Properly chastised, very glad for his good fortune, the captain aimed the plasma cannon and blasted another ship. Then Elizabeth rotated as on a gimbal, fired her plasma drive for a few seconds, rotated again, fired again, and again.

By now all the pirate ships were smoldering wrecks. Jeffrey had Elizabeth disarm and imprison all the surviving pirates. Fortunately the pirates hadn't found all the other prisoners, so they were still alive, but much the worse for wear after the wild maneuvering. Jeffrey took the runabout and salvaged the five vessels, recovering numerous weapons systems and sensors that Elizabeth would be happy to have. With a full cargo hold and a whole lot of prisoners, Jeffrey had Elizabeth take herself in-system to Selene City on Earth's moon. The trip would take twenty days, and while he had emergency rations enough for all the prisoners and himself, he didn't think he could last much longer than that.

During the trip, Jeffrey smelted and otherwise salvaged the ships he had captured. There were intact computers, weapons, battery systems, power generators, and more that would enhance Elizabeth. Elizabeth was also busy familiarizing herself with the virus attack on her and what she needed to do to prevent that in the future.

As he came within ten million kilometers of Earth, he radioed ahead requesting intercept by military authorities to relieve him of his pirate prisoners. He had Elizabeth prepare a video record and transcript of the entire series of attacks for prosecution of them.

“Elizabeth, this is Earth Navy Destroyer Wanigan. Heave to and prepare to be boarded.”

“CAPTAIN, THEY ARE USING THE SAME VIRUS AS THE PIRATES DID.”

“Elizabeth, are you safe from it? Can you fake being infected?”

“OF COURSE.”

“Then make it so.”

“Wanigan, Elizabeth. It appears that the same virus that the pirates used has just reappeared. I cannot control all my systems with it running rampant.”

“Elizabeth, Wanigan. Understood. We will come alongside and board you. We will bring a computer expert to eradicate the virus.”

“Wanigan, Elizabeth. Do not bring more than four officers and men aboard, I had programmed my computer's security to kill groups of six or more, and I cannot control this system with the virus in charge.”

“CAPTAIN, THE NAVY SHIP JUST SENT MODIFIED INSTRUCTIONS TO THE VIRUS TO ALLOW ACCESS TO MORE THAN SIX PEOPLE. THEY SEEM TO HAVE BOUGHT OUR SUBTERFUGE.”

“Elizabeth, Wanigan. Our experts have deactivated that part of the virus. We are now prepared to board.”

“Wanigan, Elizabeth. I repeat. Do not send more than four.”

“Elizabeth, Wanigan. You should now have control of your systems. Heave to and prepare to be boarded by a naval marine attachment. If you do not, you will be fired on.”

“Wanigan, Elizabeth. Your officers and Marines are welcome. Do not send more than four. Wanigan, please note this conversation is being rebroadcast on all frequencies. Also note that the virus you have attempted to infect my ship with was first used by the pirates that attacked me. Either they were in coordination with you or you have a serious security leak. You will provide no more than four officers and Marines. You need not send your computer expert, we have our own.”

“Elizabeth, Wanigan Actual. Our electronic technicians are ceasing their activities regarding your ship. An officer and four Marines are being dispatched to collect your prisoners. Our sincere thanks for your activities re: the pirates. We are in receipt of your video files and transcripts for the prosecution. We will address the issue of the virus security. Wanigan Actual out.”

The word 'Actual' in the broadcast indicated the captain of the ship was directly communicating.

The big navy destroyer loomed over Elizabeth's cargo hold, shadowing Elizabeth in a high contrast. The bright white brilliant, while the deep black of the shadow a painful contrast. A shuttle traversed the gap between the two vessels. The doors to the cargo bay opened, giving the shuttle adequate space to enter and put down.

Four space-suited Marines spread out, weapons at ready. An officer then exited the shuttle, and Elizabeth noted the pilot remained on board. Communication traffic between the shuttle and the Marines and the officer were normal. Communications between the shuttle and the navy ship were also brief and normal.

The four Marines surrounded the officer, and all four came in through the airlock at the entrance to the cargo bay.

The officer removed her helmet. “Petty Officer Bianca to receive prisoners.”

Sokolov introduced himself and welcomed Petty Officer Bianca and her Marines. “Allow me take you to the prisoners.”

“Never mind, Captain. We'll find them ourselves.” The Marines brought their weapons to bear on Jeffrey. “And you are coming with us.”

“Elizabeth, I don't want to go with the Petty Officer. Perhaps she did not get the message from Wanigan Actual that we are freindlies.”

“Captain, who are you talking to?” asked the Petty Officer.

“My best friend,” and then to the AI, “Elizabeth, please disarm the Marines.”

Immediately the marine's weapons were disabled by multiple industrial lasers fired from the concealed remotes. Then their helmets were bored through with the same lasers.

“Captain, you are full of surprises,” said Petty Officer Bianca. “But you cannot wage war on the navy.” Surrender now or your ship will be destroyed.”

“Elizabeth, get Wanigan Actual on the radio.”

“WANIGAN IS NOT ANSWERING OUR HAIL. THEY ARE ATTEMPTING TO BLOCK OUR TRANSMISSIONS.”

“It seems these are more pirates. Interesting that they are using official Navy craft and uniforms. We'll add these uniformed people to our collection of prisoners. Keep close tabs on the Navy ship, track them, and prep our weapons systems, we may need them before we are through.”“AYE, CAPTAIN.”

“Well, sorry folks, but you are going to have to come with me. Please note that my crew is quite nervous, but they have orders. You will obey me completely. Do you understand?”

The bluster seemed to go out of the petty officer. The Marines still appeared ready to attack at a moment's notice, but seemed to defer to the woman.

“Captain,” said Petty Officer Bianca, “may I see you in private?”

“There's the galley just down here. Have your Marines stand at attention so my crew doesn't feel nervous about them.”

“Very well,” she replied. Then to the Marines, she spoke authoritatively, “Marines! Attention!” The Marines stood at attention. “Stand here. Do not move unless I order you to. Do you understand?”

The Marines called out in unison, “Sir! Yes Sir.”

Sokolov led Bianca to the galley. They sat at one of the built in tables.

“Okay, Petty Officer, what's the story?” he asked.

“I think there's a mutiny on the boat.” she replied.

“Who's involved?”

“The Executive Officer seems to be in charge. He has the ship's captain, Commander Yusef in custody.”

“So he isn't the one who I talked with?”

“No, that would be Lieutenant Commander Noel. The Marines are neutral, I'm one of the trusted officers, but he doesn't know or suspect that I'm loyal to the captain.”

“Petty Officer Bianca, how long has this been going on?” Jeffrey asked.

“About two weeks, sir.”

“The Marines seem to obey you,” he said. “How about your pilot?”

“I wouldn't trust him. His entire unit seemed to join the mutineers.”

He asked, “What's your job?”

“I'm a communications specialist,” she replied. She reached into a pocket on the hard suit and pulled out a handful of cylinders. “I was to deliver these throughout your ship. They are to help track you after whatever action goes down.”

“Elizabeth, what do you make of these?”

“CAPTAIN, THEY ARE PASSIVE, RESPONDING ONLY TO A PRE-CODED SIGNAL OF A PARTICULAR FREQUENCY. GIVE ONE TO A REMOTE – IT'LL GET TO ME.”

A kitten-sized remote came into the galley on its spider legs. It took two of the cylinders and exited the galley.

“My crew will analyze them. Another subject. What ties do the mutineers have with the pirates?”

“Some recently newly made pirates were on board last week. Your description of some of your prisoners fit what I saw then.”

Jeffrey began weighing his options. A few hundred meters from his ship was a navy vessel that was in the throes of becoming a pirate ship. While chaos was often an excellent medium for performing irregular warfare, it benefits only the one who prepares for it. In the back of his mind, he began to prepare.

He looked the petty officer in the eye, and asked, “Do you trust your Marines?”

“All but one of them, but the others will keep him in line.”

“Okay, tell me what you can of your ship, her crew, armaments and loyalties. The navy is important out here, and I intend to help restore your ship to its proper alignment. Will you assist me?”

Bianca in her turn began to calculate her options. This was a possibility out of a stinky situation that may very well assist in her career as well as restore the navy ship to its rightful place and her captain to his rightful place.

“Yes, Captain. Raise your right hand,” she said, sitting upright.

“What? Why?”

“I am going to deputize you. As the captain of this ship, you will have command over navy resources within her hull. Including me.”

Jeffrey raised his right hand, after removing his gauntlet.

“Captain Sokolov, do you swear to uphold the laws of Earth as applies to the space within the solar system, to protect and defend the constitutions of Earth, her moon and all the peoples who inhabit same, and act honorably in support of the same? Please reply affirmatively.”

Jeffrey stared at the petty officer for a moment. Her face reflected the tension of the situation, her steady gaze was only belied by her trembling lip. This wasn't the course of his life he had intended when he took to his work, but he felt it necessary. He let his hand drop some, then said, “I was an ROTC cadet at Selene. I do have some understanding of the system.”

He paused, raised his hand again, and said, “I so swear.”