Ion Trail 13: Set it On Fire

I closed the message and initiated a HyperWAN query for headlines regarding Kestrel Station or Proxima Tau. There were no relevant mentions of Proxima, but Kestrel showed up in several headlines; the unsettling thing was the headlines seemed to refer to a series of events, rather than the singular one we knew about. Rather than downloading these articles right away, I ran an unfiltered query for top headlines. The results that came back this time were even more disturbing.

“The cat isn’t just out of the bag,” I said in a low tone, referencing an ancient saying my mother always liked. “The cat has set the damned thing on fire.” Clinton and Omar, no longer able to resist, crowded around me and gaped at the list of headlines. I turned to Omar and said, “Can you go look for Diaz? Tell him I want the crew in here. He’ll know who I’m talking about.”

Omar went without another word. I considered calling him back to caution him on what he said to anyone else, but decided not to bother; I couldn’t sit on something this big for long, so if he talked, he talked. While I waited, I downloaded a few of the more likely looking articles and started reading. I could feel Clinton hovering close, reading over my shoulder but I let him be. I didn’t really mind his proximity, and it’d just be mean to make him wait for everyone else to get here before he got the bad news.

And it was bad; really bad. Bad on a scale that humanity had literally never seen before. The black ships had decided to give up on their stealth incursions in favor of an all-out declaration of war. Dozens of stations and planets had been attacked, several more had gone silent, and there had been at least one major fleet battle; The TU ships hadn’t fared well before the much smaller force of black ships had abandoned the fight. It was obvious that we were facing a foe with far superior technology. Every single article used a word that had me groaning as I read about otherwise very grim events: Aliens.

Diaz is never going to let me hear the end of this, I thought. Fucking Aliens.

The crew arrived shortly, and I looked at them gravely for a moment before I spoke. Diaz was there looking worried as he always did, but resolute. Harper’s face was unreadable as she looked at me searchingly. June waited patiently and Sister Estrada wore the same serene expression that she always did. Kyle had scooted in next to Clinton and they were talking quietly, with Clinton shaking his head at whatever Kyle was asking. Omar had returned too and while he wasn’t someone I considered ‘crew’ yet, I didn’t begrudge him his seat at the table; we wouldn’t have this news without his labors.

“I don’t know any better way to say this,” I started slowly, picking my words carefully. “So, I’m just going to say it plain: Humanity appears to be at war.” I saw the words hit them and watched as expressions shifted through a plethora emotions, shock, disbelief, realization, guilt and horror.

“It’s them, isn’t it?” June asked first. “The black ship.”

“Ships,” I confirmed. “There are dozens of confirmed attacks, and the TU has tangled with them at least once as well. I guess they decided it wasn’t worth keeping a low profile anymore.”

“Where?” she asked. I could tell she was trying to be calm, but she had a ranch and extended family on Montañoso, so I knew where her thoughts were. Unfortunately, I couldn’t reassure her.

“I don’t know,” I said. There’s no pattern to the attacks so far as anyone can tell, and they’re spread out across human space.” I reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll run a query for Montañoso as soon as we’re done here, and I’ll let you know.” She gave me a grateful smile as I stepped back to address everyone else. “I didn’t see any mention of Bekter’s Rim and with the TU garrison, I think it’s likely to be as safe a place as any. But there is something else; someone contacted me. Someone knows we’re alive, and they’ve told me to avoid space stations, says we’re not safe.”

“Someone?” asked Sister Estrada.

“Yeah, whoever they are, they call themselves ‘Styxratt’ and they managed to leave no traces when they left a message in my box. They said that if we wanted help to go to Stroika, and they’d contact me again.”

“Do you trust them?” This was Harper. I took a moment to ponder the question before I answered.

“Honestly, I’m not sure. But they went through the trouble of seeking me out, so it might be worthwhile to hear what they have to say, and to heed the warning in the meantime.”

“So what’s all of this mean?” Diaz asked.

“It means that the world we know has gone to shit, and I’m not quite sure I’m ready to just turn my fate over to the TU,” I replied, surprising myself. “We were at what may have been ground zero of this attack, and we escaped, somehow. We know about the nanites, and their MO for attacking stations. Until I know that whoever I give this information to can use it to help keep us safe, I just…” I trailed off. I didn’t have a plan, not yet. I just knew that I wasn’t sure how much I trusted my life or the lives of my passengers to the Terran Union, who should have seen this coming somehow. Whether these black ships were a technologically advanced colony disgruntled by TU control (there were more than a few) or some completely new threat, the whole reason for the TU’s existence was to protect the lives of civilians. We had already seen thousands of lives destroyed and the news reports indicated that potentially millions or billions more were suffering the same fate.

“What are we going to do?” Diaz again, looking scared, more than I’d seen him in a while.

“We’re going to go ahead to Bekter’s Rim,” I said. “Anyone who wants to get off can get off. Anyone who wants to stay can stay. After that, I’m going to Stroika. I’ll leave a report with whoever stays to give to the TU after I’m gone, but I’m just… I’m not ready to stop running yet.” I stopped talking and I looked at each of the people in front of me and suddenly it was too much. The last thing I wanted was for anyone here to tell me that they wanted to disembark at Bekter’s Rim. Not now, anyway, though I’d just given them the opening to do just that. I hadn’t even realized exactly how I’d felt until the words were out of my mouth, but now I wasn’t ready to see any of these people, who’d put their trust in me so completely, abandon me to what was probably a foolish decision. So I walked out. I left them standing there, crowded into the engine room and walked straight to my cabin and locked the door once I was inside.

“This is stupid,” I told myself, aloud, once I was in the safety of my room. “I should just turn everything over to the TU and let them deal with it.” But I didn’t believe that. Whatever the black ships were, the TU should have prevented this in the first place, but here we were. I lay down on my bed and just stared at the ceiling, my thoughts awhirl. I realized that, down deep, I’d never really trusted the TU. Can colonies like the one I’d grown up on were largely populated (or over-populated) with people who didn’t want to bow to the TU’s rules, so they chose to pack themselves into massive ships that drifted from place to place, never calling any one system home for long. I thought I’d divested myself of most of the backwards attitudes I’d grown up with, but I guess this one stuck it out; maybe it wasn’t even all that backward. The TU was too much of a bureaucracy, conveniently ignoring countless atrocities committed right under their nose ever since they’d formed after humanity’s diaspora to the stars. Hell, if even half of what I’d learned growing up was true, they’d committed more than their share.

I would share what we’d learned with them, little as it was; whether I liked them or not, the TU was the only force big enough to deal with the threat that the black ships posed. But I wasn’t going to come in from the cold, yet. I wanted to find a way to strike back at these bastards myself and if this “Styxratt” had anything that could help me do that, I was going to take the chance.

=+=

I rubbed at the bridge of my nose, feeling the migraine coming on for the first time in a while. The rest of the passengers weren’t taking the news well, especially after I told them that I wasn’t going to re-enable the HyperWAN connection. I told them that I’d downloaded several articles detailing the events of the past couple of weeks and they were welcome to read those, but I was limiting further queries. We were going on to Bekter’s Rim where anyone who wanted to could disembark, which I fully expected they’d want to. I also passed on the cryptic warning about the datasphere; maybe there was nothing to it, but they could do what they wanted to with the information once they were off the ship.

“So what are you going to do, then?” asked Shanna. I was better prepared for the question this time.

“I’m going to go on to Stroika,” I said simply. “If this person can help me against the black ships, I want to see how.” I shrugged. “It could be a trap for all I know, but that’s why I’m stopping at Bekter’s Rim first. I can understand anyone wanting to go their own way, but anyone who wants to stay on and see where this goes is more than welcome.”

This announcement was met with silence at first and I stood there, braced for their reactions. Most of them were pleasant enough people whom I would miss, but I could stand to see them move on. Others would hurt. It had taken me a lot of deep thought before I came to terms with it, but this was one choice I had no right to make for them.

“What did you say the name was?” Carla had stepped forward to ask the question, pulling my attention back to the present. The question hadn’t been the response I’d expected, so it took me a second to answer.

“Uh, Styxratt,” I said. “Probably just a datasphere handle, unless they had very eccentric parents.”

“Interesting,” she said. “Those were the names of a couple of rock bands from the latter centuries of Earth.”

“StyxRatt?” Janice Patel, the dodgy teenager, had pushed through the crowd, her intense gaze trained on me. “You said it was StyxRatt?”

“Uh, yeah,” I replied. “You know that name?”

“They’re a hacker,” she said. “A deepsphere legend.” She took a few more steps forward, still staring at me, almost accusingly. This was the most anyone had heard her speak since one of Carla’s early presentations on the Transhumanist Rejection. “You’re saying StyxRatt is the one who warned you?”

“Yeah,” I said, starting to get a little irritated. “That’s what I said, a few times already.”

“If StyxRatt is involving themselves, it’s serious.”

“Okay,” I replied, drawing out the second syllable, wondering where this was coming from. “I kinda hope that it is serious, because I’m not trying to go off on a jaunt for fun.”

“I’m coming with you,” she demanded, glaring at me as though I’d told her she couldn’t. She was honestly the last person I would have expected to want to stay, but I’d made the offer.

“Fine,” I said. “Welcome aboard. Again.” She jerked her head downward in acknowledgment, before turning and stalking out of the cargo bay. I stared after her for a minute in consternation, wondering what I’d just gotten myself into until someone else spoke.

“Captain.” I turned back to look at Diaz as he stepped forward. “I’ve never been a first mate before, but if you’ll have me, I’d like to stay on, too.” I smiled, relief banishing my trepidation about Patel. Despite the fact that I still caught him staring at me with puppy eyes from time to time, I was glad Diaz would be staying on. He was loyal, practical and had a good way with people, and I’d have missed him if he’d gone.

“Of course you can stay,” I said, still smiling. “I might have had to knock you out and stowed you in the galley if you’d tried to leave.” I turned and looked at the rest, letting the smile fade. “Anyone else want to stick around?”

“I’m afraid I can’t,” said June, stepping forward with her husband. He nodded, which meant they’d likely discussed it after the earlier meeting in the engine room. I had expected this, but acknowledged them only briefly; I didn’t want to see the disappointment in my eyes. June was going to be missed, but I knew she’d want to get back to her ranch.

“I think I’ve had enough flying about to last me a lifetime,” added Alan. “I guess I’m going to learn how to get my hands dirty.” He smiled at his wife, who returned it with such a look of love that it was clear the rest of us had ceased to exist for the moment.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to do the same, Captain,” said Kyle. “It’s been an honor flying with you, and I hope I’ve been some help on this… interesting trip.”

“You’re going to be a rancher,” I said in mock disbelief, covering up my disappointment. “You?”

“What?” he stared at me in confusion until he caught on. “Oh, no, no, no. I spend too much on manicures to ever get these hands dirty or- ugh- callused.”

“I understand,” I agreed. “You’ll be missed, Kyle.” My heart sunk a little lower when Clinton stepped forward next, and I smiled bravely at him, too.

“I think I’d like to stay,” he said, surprising me. “My old crew was still on Kestrel Station so they- er, well I wouldn’t mind getting some payback, if that’s in the cards.” I was so happy to hear him say he wanted to stay that I barely restrained myself from giving him a hug.

“Can I stay too, Captain?” Omar’s voice was hesitant as he interjected. “At least for a little while?”

“Of course, Omar,” I answered. “You’ve been with us the shortest time, but you’ve been a help. I’d be glad to have you.”

“It’s been interesting aboard, but I have work I should get back to, as soon as I’m able; this conflict with the black ships will only create more work rather than less, I think.” Carla’s smile was bittersweet; it was obvious that she’d enjoyed the attention her presentations had garnered and that she would miss the friends she’d made. I got the distinct impression that libraries and archives weren’t the best places to meet people and socialize. I stepped forward to take her hands.

“Thank you so much for everything you’ve done,” I told her, meaning it. “I think we might have all gone insane without your efforts.” The gesture turned into a hug and when I stepped back, her eyes weren’t the only ones that were a little too bright.

“I think I shall also take the offer to stay for a while,” said Sister Estrada. She turned and smiled at June. “Especially with Ms. Hamilton-Gonzalez going home, you’ll all need someone who can cook.” Her eyes twinkled as she said this and I laughed in agreement. A few others had tried their hands during the last week, but the results had been mixed at best.

“Me too,” said Harper, stepping forward abruptly, and nodding firmly. “You’ll need a medic if you’re going to keep getting into trouble, and I’d rather do that here than deal with the TU.”

“Oh, you’re both so, so welcome,” I said, starting to feel a little overwhelmed. Most of my ‘crew’ was staying, and while I’d miss those who left, my heart was full at the number of people who’d elected to stay.

Craig was the next to step forward and say he’d rather get off at Bekter’s Rim. He’d been a steady hand, always willing to help, so I thanked him and wished him good luck. One by one, the others stepped up to say that they’d rather go, and I likewise wished them the best. Caroline winked at me when she said that it had been fun and I’d flushed at the suggestion in her tone, but I was just as happy to see her go. A general round of goodbyes followed, despite the fact that we wouldn’t reach Bekter’s Rim until the next day. It was the beginning of the end and everyone felt it. While there would likely be final goodbyes once we reached the station, we all knew that this was it.

Eventually I made an excuse to head back for the cockpit; the heavy emotions and contact with so many people at once had completely drained me and I needed some time to recharge. June told me in parting that she and Sister Estrada were going to get to work on one last community meal. I smiled weakly and fled as soon as I could.

“Wait,” I heard as I rushed out of the main cargo area that still served as a meeting area for bigger meetings like this, and into the makeshift hallway between the constructed rooms. I made myself turn back and saw Shanna hurrying across the crowded room toward me. I recalled that I hadn’t actually seen her step forward to say anything. “Captain, wait,” she repeated as she caught up.

“Shanna, what’s up?” I asked, feeling only slightly less edgy, still needing to get away for a while.

“I’d… I’d like to stay,” she stammered. “If you’ll have me. Um, if that’s okay with you, I mean.” I glanced around the room, floored by the unexpected request. I saw Craig standing not too far away, staring at her with apparent surprise, but the big man turned away quickly when he saw me looking. I looked back at Shanna.

“I said anyone who’s willing is welcome,” I told her, “but I have to ask. Why?”

“Well, it’s like I told you,” she said, then continued in a rush. “I’m tired of being afraid. If I get off at Bekter’s Rim, I’ll just always be another victim. I want to go with you, I mean, go do something. Strike back, you know? Something.” She seemed slightly out of breath and red-faced as she finished, but I couldn’t help but smile. Breathless onslaught seemed to be her primary communication style.

“Good enough for me,” I said warmly. “Welcome aboard, Shanna.”