Acheron Inheritance, page 6
part #1 of Federation Chronicles Series
Stumpy held onto the central console, and now his feet and tail dangled in the air as he scrambled to hold on.
"Hang on, I'm coming," he said.
He tried not to think of how stupid he'd feel if he botched this and ended up dead. At least he'd only feel that way for a few seconds, and then he wouldn't be thinking of anything at all. The edges of Radek's holographic orb glistened, but the VI didn't say anything.
Quinton brought his feet under him and changed the configuration of the bot's feet so he could grab onto the handhold. The agricultural unit was designed with climbing in mind.
He increased his frame rate so time slowed down, and he waited for the space station's spin to approach its apex. When it did, he launched himself across the corridor directly toward the open hatch of the escape pod. Then, he grabbed the outer hatch and stopped himself from landing inside and crushing the little fella.
He set his frame rate back to normal time. His body dangled inside the escape pod, and he reached with his foot toward Stumpy. The escape pod was bigger than the one he'd flown to the station on, and he couldn't quite reach where Stumpy was, but he was as close as he was going to get.
"You're going to have to jump," he said.
Stumpy bobbed his head a couple times, as if judging the distance to Quinton's foot, and looked as if he was going to make the jump a few times, but Quinton's patience was growing thin. He didn't have time for this.
"I'm going to leave you here." He shook his foot, dangling it in front of the little furball. "Come on," he said and beckoned with his arm.
Stumpy's gaze locked onto Quinton's foot, and his body went rigid. There was a quick shuffle and a leap. The furry little creature grabbed on, scampered up to his shoulder, and held on tight.
Quinton climbed out of the escape pod and headed toward the ship. He had to time his movements with the momentum of the space station as it spun. A few frame rate adjustments later, he was climbing into the ship.
The ZS-Novo was a light transport star jumper-class ship. He closed the outer hatch, went through the airlock, and walked out onto a decent-size storage area compared to the size of the ship. From there, he headed for the bridge. Crusty flecks of pale green paint from the walls and ceilings littered the floor. He glanced at a CO2 scrubber that was in a recess on the wall. A buildup of black mold surrounded the scrubber, and Quinton was able to detect mold spores in the atmosphere. Not the healthiest air to breathe, but he'd worry about that after they escaped.
The Novo's bridge was rather small. There were two chairs in a small circular room that was above the level he'd entered. He sat down in one of the chairs, and Stumpy scampered off his shoulder, but he didn't pay attention to where the little furball went next. He needed to check the ship's systems and get away from the space station. Since this was a civilian ship, there was very little security between him and the Novo's systems. It also helped that the last captain hadn't done a proper shutdown of the systems. They'd probably been in a rush to get on one of the large evacuation ships.
The Novo was equipped with a second-generation Paxton jump drive, which had limited range, but it should do the job of getting him to another star system. Anything would be better than where he was. Three holoscreens appeared in front of him, and he was able to see outside the ship for the first time. The bridge was located near the front of the ship, seeming to ride on top of the storage area.
Quinton opened a comlink to the Novo's systems so he could interact with the computer directly. The Novo ship computer recognized that a new captain was on the bridge and had status reports ready for him. A proximity alarm flashed on the centermost holoscreen.
A video image showed that the planetary defense cannon had resumed its bombardment on the station. Those damn mechs must have reloaded them. The space station was essentially a large shaft with spindly docking arms that had escape pods attached. Many had broken off as the space station was blown apart.
Quinton got the engines ready and waited, intending to use the space station's rotation to help him escape. It wouldn't do him any good to release the docking clamps and be flung toward the planet. In that case, he'd have to expend precious energy flying away from the planet, and he didn't know how well the ship could maneuver through a field of projectiles from a mag cannon.
He noticed that the rate of fire seemed to be focused on another part of the space station, so the mechs probably believed he was still there. He released the docking clamps and engaged the engines. As the ship cleared the station and flew away, Quinton felt an urge to sit back in his chair and sigh, but neither was necessary. For the first time since he'd awakened, he felt like he had a few moments to catch his breath.
He set a course to take them away from the planet. Not only did he need to reach the minimum safe distance to execute an FTL jump, he also needed to allow the navigation computer time to refresh the star charts to align with a destination he had yet to pick.
"Okay, Radek. Time for us to talk."
Quinton looked at the power meter on his HUD. The power levels for the agricultural bot had fallen below 50 percent. Increasing his frame rate had drained the power core. He needed to keep that in mind. He queried the ship's systems, looking for a way to continue charging the bot's power supply, but couldn't find anything. That was problem number one that he'd have to work on.
"Radek, are you there?"
A silver orb appeared on one of the holoscreens. "I'm here, Quinton. I thought it better to show myself using the ship's power systems rather than the limited capacity of the bot."
"Can I leverage the ship's computer systems to gain additional access to my ESS?" Quinton asked.
"Offloading like that poses an extreme risk to PMC stability and the ESS."
"How extreme of a risk?"
"Instability in the ESS, which could lead to severe degradation of the PMC."
"Okay, Radek, next time just tell me it'll kill me and we can keep this simpler."
"Understood."
"Why am I here?"
"I don't understand the question," Radek replied.
Quinton took a few moments to gather his thoughts. "You said there was an activation signal from somewhere, and there was an ESS located on Zeda-Six. Somehow my PMC was stored there."
"I believe this is accurate. Transference of a PMC to an ESS poses a great risk to PMC stability. There is a strong probability that you were stored in the ESS prior to it being located on this planet."
That was something, at least. PMCs were highly complex, and Quinton didn't want to think that someone or something had transferred all that data from somewhere while looking for an open ESS. "Where was I first activated?"
"In a data archive facility on Zeda-Six."
"Whose data archive facility?"
"Unknown. The facility reacted to the activation signal."
"Where did the activation signal come from?" Quinton asked and then shook his head. There was no way Radek would know this because he would have been activated at the same time. "Never mind. Is there anything you can tell me about the activation signal itself? Do you have a record of it?"
"No, when the ESS was activated and there was no acceptable storage unit for it, I was tasked with finding an acceptable one. Any record of the initial activation signal must still be at the facility on the planet," Radek replied.
Returning to the planet wasn't an option. He recalled that Radek had encountered the hunter mechs shortly after his activation. Going back there would help only if he had no other option. Quinton opened a comlink to the space station and found that part of the communication system was still online. Most star systems had a communication hub with built-in redundancies. He requested a data dump of the communication log from the space station. He didn't know how long it would remain online and didn't want to risk being cut off. When that was done, he could review it on the ship.
"Radek, analyze the communication logs and see if you can pinpoint the activation signal. I need to know where it came from."
The silver orb on the holoscreen went still, and a few moments later the data on the screen changed. "I've identified the signal, but I'm unable to determine its origin."
Quinton studied the raw data of the communication signal. It looked like gibberish, and incomprehensible data could mean only one thing: Whoever had sent the signal didn't want to be found. This made tracking it more complicated. He'd have to give it some more thought. He saved a copy of the data, then opened the Novo's navigation systems and began looking at the star charts. They hadn't been updated in over fifty standard years. A lot could change in that time, but staying there wasn't an option.
The holoscreen to his right flickered and showed a plot of the Zeda-Six Star System. He was moving away from the planet but noticed that another ship had entered the system and was heading toward the planet. It wasn't on an intercept course with the Novo, but he was reluctant to open a comlink to the ship. The plot updated with other ships that were in orbit around the planet, and he noted that they were small vessels like the one he was on. Given his original reception, Quinton had to assume that everything in the star system could be hostile.
He brought up the Paxton jump drive, and while it was charging, he picked a nearby star system called Lantus as a destination. He'd never heard of it before, but he needed to get away from this place, and he didn't want to break the jump drive by having it fold space to a destination much farther away.
A communications holoscreen came to prominence. The ship that had just entered the system was trying to initiate contact, but something was wrong. The hailing package was just a ship-to-ship identity request.
SN-Seeker-901.
He'd never heard of the designation "SN," and "Seeker" was a class of ship, not a ship name. Ship designations utilized federation names as part of their identification.
The SN-Seeker-901 hailed them again and then changed course.
"Definitely not friendly," Quinton said and checked the status of the jump drive.
The SN-Seeker-901 increased its speed and was now on an intercept course.
The Paxton jump drive finished charging, and its status changed to green. He was far enough away from the planet's gravity well that he could initiate the jump.
The ZS-Novo light transport ship jumped out of the star system.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE LANTUS STAR system was home to a massive red giant star. An initial subspace scan of the system revealed a couple of Jovian planets with a few hundred moons orbiting them in clusters, but nothing else was detected--no automated mining platforms, no research stations. Nothing. Not even an interstellar communications relay.
Quinton looked at the scan data on the holoscreen in disappointment. The star charts had shown that both a communications relay and mining platforms were present in this star system. Again, he felt an urge to sigh or frown or maybe even press his lips together, all of which the agricultural bot couldn't do. Instead, the bot's vocalizer made a soft buzzing sound that he supposed could have been considered a growl. He made a mental note to change whatever setting was associated with it.
He glanced at the controls for the ship's monitoring systems on the bridge, wanting to get a better look at the agricultural bot. He didn't have a clear image of what he even looked like. But it wasn't him, he reminded himself. He wasn't the bot. This was just a platform that his PMC was housed in for the moment. It was temporary. He repeated the thought in his mind a few times before shifting his focus to something else. Maybe now wasn't the best time to find out what he looked like.
He hadn't altered his course since entering the star system. While he waited for the jump drive to recharge, he searched the navigation system. He needed to pick a system that would likely have a communication hub so he could track the activation signal that had found its way to Zeda-Six.
The Novo wasn't designed for extensive travel beyond a local cluster of stars, which was why the star charts in the navigation systems had limited information. He didn't know if he was located along the galactic fringes or was in one of the core systems. His thoughts suddenly became blank, as if they'd been blocked by an invisible barrier.
"Radek," Quinton said, "I'm stumbling around here in the dark without full access to the ESS. I don't even know which federation or star empire I'm located in."
"Understandable," Radek replied, "but I don't think you fully appreciate just how precarious a position you're in. Ship diagnostics indicate that even though this ship can still operate, it's been derelict for at least fifty years. Jump drive systems for this ship haven't been calibrated since the star charts were updated. The computer systems are inadequate to transfer even a small percentage of the sophisticated data in the ESS. It wasn't designed for--"
"All right, I get it," Quinton said irritably. He remained motionless on the bridge for a few moments. "This ship and this bot are all I have to work with."
An alert appeared on his internal heads-up display. The bot's power meter plummeted by more than 10 percent before stopping at 38 percent. Then another alert appeared, informing him that part of his power core had ceased to operate. The error log gave a manufacturer code for Veris, who had built the bot.
He didn't know how much time he had. If he lost power here, no one would ever find him. He'd be lost forever. Someone had sent that activation signal just like someone had stored his PMC onto an ESS and left it on Zeda-Six. He needed to figure out who that was, but more importantly, he needed to find another body-- something that could handle the ESS so he could have full access to his memories. Then maybe he could find whoever thought it had been a good idea to store an ESS with Quinton's PMC on what he suspected was a fringe-colony world. Someone had hidden him away to be activated at a later date, and he needed to understand why.
Quinton returned to scouring the star charts for a destination. Radek was right--the ship had severe limits. He had to assume that the next FTL jump might be his last, so he had to make the most of the destination he chose. He moved the star chart to the main holoscreen and then calculated the limits of the jump drive. A sphere surrounded a smaller portion of the star charts. There wasn't much here in such a remote location, but he did see a reference to Shangris Spaceport. The spaceport would be his best chance to get some help or, at the very least, find some information. Maybe they'd even be able to swap out his power core, or better yet, maybe he could find a better bot to use since this one wouldn't last much longer. He needed something that was designed for a PMC with full haptic interface capabilities.
He was getting ahead of himself. He looked back at the holoscreen, uploaded the coordinates to the navigation system, and left the bridge. As soon as the jump drive recharged, he could be underway.
"Your power core is failing," Radek said.
"I know."
"I would advise you to stay on the bridge."
Quinton walked down the short corridor, glancing at the failing atmosphere scrubber as he passed it, and then entered the storage area. There were several rows of storage containers. He brought up the shipping manifest, hoping there would be something he could use.
"I can't do anything on the bridge. I need to recharge my power core," Quinton said.
"This ship doesn't have droid support capabilities," Radek said.
"You're right; it doesn't, but some of these storage containers have their own individual power cores that connect to the ship's reactor. I'm going to have a look at them."
Radek was quiet for a few moments. Quinton imagined him as an old man with gray hair, a harsh gaze, and a quizzical furrowed brow, ripe with disapproval. Quinton chuckled.
"I don't see the humor in this," Radek said.
The VI's comment confirmed that he was incapable of reading Quinton's thoughts. From what little he could remember of his training to become a PMC candidate, VIs weren't supposed to be able to do that. But there had been so many things that were unorthodox in what Radek had been called to perform that he wouldn't put it past the original designers to keep certain capabilities secret.
"I need a new body," Quinton said. "Actually, I need my body."
"It is doubtful that your original body has been preserved, but I don't have any knowledge regarding it."
He walked down a row of storage containers, some of which were nearly as tall as he was. "What do you know then?" he asked as he squatted down to look at the container's identification.
"All PMCs have their DNA backed up and recorded in case the PMC decides to abandon its artificial existence and return to a biological form," Radek said.
Quinton stood up. He'd asked the question without really expecting an answer. "Wait a second. Are you saying that somewhere out there is a record of my DNA, and it can be used to grow me a new body?"
"Precisely," Radek replied. "This safeguard was put in place for all PMCs and was part of the standard PMC creation protocol."
If he could track the activation signal, this would lead him to where his DNA was recorded. He just had to survive long enough to find it.
He checked all the storage containers that were patched into the ship's reactor. There was a small charging station for the salvage gear stored in a work area in a side room. Inside the kit was a power bypass module, and Quinton studied it for a few moments. One of the connections looked like it could be attached to the side port of the agricultural bot. He tried to attach it and was able to force the connectors to make contact. It wasn't seamless, but he thought it would work.
He grabbed one of the other connectors and plugged it into an open port on the workbench.
Nothing happened.
Quinton stared at it expectantly, then initiated a remote access session to the ship's systems. He found the controls for the power regulator on the workbench, throttled the power output down to the lowest setting, and then turned it on.
