Ark-9 - Edited 11-9-2018

It had been three months since Janssens funeral. I could now walk without the use of my cane, though I did get phantom pains every now and again. I had decided to keep my left arm cybernetic. There were too many options that I had built into my arm to make it useful. My whole right hand now operated as a gas-propelled grapple. Even when “launched” I had full mobility and could send it “scampering” around.

I had reported the truth about Janssens resurrection to Colonel White and Captain Wallace because Observer and Neith had threatened to send it if I did not. I then locked all records of the task and had requested all data on it be entirely removed from the systems. The only copies should be what is stored in our memories. The Colonel and Captain were disgusted at my actions. Not because of what I had done, but because I had deleted all the data, and incinerated the body. Hera backed me up stating that all records of the data used for the resurrection were eliminated from all databases.

When Colonel White came down to the base and tried to convince CL4P-Tp to share the data, the response was a simple “Recompiling my combat code. Adjusting Friend or Foe parameters. I am a tornado of death and bullets.” Then the anti-personnel turrets started powering up. The Colonel decided that it would be a good idea to stop asking.

Other than Janssens death, we had lost two Marines that had been part of our teams from the beginning. The rest of the Marines lost during the raid had been members of Ark-11. We, and by that, I mean “I,” had decided to turn the walls of the entrance tunnels in the hangar bay into a living memorial. Whenever someone came through the airlocks, they would have to check in with security, and while orders were verified, there was a very specific wall they would see.

The outpost was fully functional with enough room for two hundred fifty Marines, and another three hundred staff. Our medical facilities now had a dozen auto-docs set up with a half dozen Corpsman for Marine support, then three doctors and an additional three nurses.

We were the only facility that could successfully create a 100% biologically matched, cloned organ, so a lot of civilians had been making their way through the facility. With the loss of his Host, Utu evolved again, deciding to change his name to Shamash. He was now working primarily with the vats, ensuring that no more cloning would ever happen. He became one of the full-blown AIs on base.

I had been speaking with one of the doctors, a trained psychologist, because of what I had done. He was more than a little frustrated with me as I refused to outright say I had done the cloning then killed the clone. He knew there was something there, but I just wouldn’t speak directly with him about it, not directly. The ones who helped me the most were the fire team, which was once again broken up and shuffled around.

I had given up on the idea of using the vats to create genetically hardened or modified organs, bones, and replacement limbs. Instead, I was looking at something smaller. Micro-bots. The Nano that we used to insert the Neural matrices was great for adding onto, but some data that are good for nothing Civilian researches had brought back from the Captured Escort ship, had led us to research weaving new fibers directly into the bone. We didn’t have enough data on materials to try with any organs. Shamash agreed with this flow of logic and was working with the researchers and our new full-blown research AI, Woten, along with Ark-11’s Jurojin and Ark-5’sHera.

As for my own head, I was down to just Neith. Observer, Grace, and Beauty - the last of my hitchhikers, were now secured in a room that generated a field like the what the waste of the Escort ships power generators gave off. In fact, all the aliens were now in the same room. My head was nice and quiet. It was also ready for the next batch of aliens we had to rescue.

Things seemed like they were coming together nicely. When Ark-11 had initially dropped their injured at the outpost, Ark-5 had transferred an equal number of Marines as had been injured or killed to them. Now there were requests to transfer of their own free will. We had even gained another half a dozen pilots.

“Ma’am, we have a definitive course on Ark-9. What would you like to do?” the call came in on the sub-dermal communicator I had recently implanted. All command staff was now plugged in on comms with a subdermal unit.

“Have the calculations been done for the jumps?”

“Yes, ma’am. It will take three jumps to catch up to them, and that is just due to astronomical interference. They are well within range for a single jump.”

“Assemble the heads. My office. I’ll be there in five.” I jogged out to my quarters and grabbed my light assault armor in case we decided to launch immediately. I managed to get to my office six minutes after the call, but still managed to be the first one to arrive. As I sat at my desk, the doors opened.

“Ma’am.” a Marine Captain named Jin, Lieutenant Walsh, Corpsman Torres, and, surprisingly Lebowski who was now sporting Sergeants chevrons walked through the door.

“Welcome everyone. We found Ark-9. How long until we can be wheels up?”

“What and how many will we be taking with us?” Lebowski asked.

“I figure we get two tugs prepped, and enough Marines for four or five assault craft. One platoon per craft, non-lethal. That’s my thoughts for now. I was planning on launching a drone to validate the data. The trajectory data shows that the first jump will take us to where we picked up Ark-11 at. The second jump seems to be taking it back towards where the remainder of the Arks had headed. I have one more planned in there for validation of light. The Drone has enough power for eight total jumps and can auto-deploy the sensors and comms relays.”

“Okay, so we get the drone out there to validate the data and get us anything… can you give us an estimate?” Walsh asked.

“10 hours until we have the data. That is enough time for the first skip past the Ark-11 rendezvous point. So, again, how long until we can be in the air?”

Captain Jin looked over to Lebowski. “What do you think?”

“Well, if it is like our last encounter, we’ll want some of her Monkey drones. Two shield units for each squad. One heavy for support. I’d say armed with a Hades. Maybe a spare drone that can recharge the battery pack and carry spare magazines. Ma’am, do you have any mods for the new BR’s? I’d like the zero-G barrels.”

“We’ll square that away once we know the status of the Ark and if there is an Escort with it,” I answered, not liking that he went straight to combat.

“Okay, but if it is just the Ark, then let’s not worry about the assault craft. Is there a troop transport that has skip capability?”

“If I remember the build plans correctly, we have two? Each can hold up to sixty-four personnel.” Walsh replied.

“Second one is taking a bit longer due to a lack of materials. The Miners should have that squared away for us in the next few days. Just a small problem with some of the elements needed for the skip drives.” I replied.

“We can field sixty-four if that’s the case. How about getting the rifle company ready and on stand-by?” Lebowski asked the Captain.

“All of them?” Jin did not seem pleased by that thought.

“Yeah. If we need to restore order, we can disable and patch quicker that way. If they aren’t under any external influence, then we just end up patching quicker that way, and maybe we can come home for some rack time quicker.” Lebowski was thinking ahead. The chevrons suited him.

“Ma’am? What do you think?” Jin didn’t seem to want to make the decision himself.

“I agree with the Sergeant. Pulling the full rifle company would be smart. Any idea when Colonel White is going to assign additional staff, so we can just be an Expeditionary Unit?” The last part was rhetorical, and I cut off Jin before he could answer.

“Okay. Hey, Clap. You’ve heard what we need, right? Send out the drone.”

“Watch as we observe the rare and beautiful Clappy Bird!” the voice was shrill coming through the office PA system. One wall showed a launching pad open up from the external cameras and the drone shot out, almost immediately engaging the skip drive once it was clear.

“Clap, I’ve told you before. We aren’t calling it a ‘Clappy Bird.’” I said as Walsh started laughing. “You have something to add, LT?”

“Well, Ma’am… I hate to break it to you, but the moment it gets out that he’s calling it a ‘Clappy Bird’ the name is going to stick.” Shit, he’s right.

While we waited for verification, we started to prep for both load outs. If the Ark were alone, then a rifle company would load into the Transport craft. If there were an Escort, then we would be launching four Assault Craft with another two on standby.

I even ordered the prep of the two tugs with a few backup AI cores in the event we needed to flush the AI like we had during the Reboot.

Sooner than I had thought possible, the 10 hours had passed. So far, we heard nothing back from the drone. At the 11 hours mark, we finally received news. The drone had to make an additional jump to avoid some unknown wreckage.

“The Clappy Bird is sending a signal now, Ma’am.” Shit, the word was out.

“Okay, Ensign. What are we looking at? Wait, I’m on my way up” I jogged over to the Sensors Relay.

On the screen was the husk of an Ark. It was dead in the water and not moving anywhere.

“Captain Jin,” I called him over his comms unit. “Prep your Marines. Full Rifle Company. SAR Operations prepare to depart immediately. Assault loadout with EMP as backups. The Ark is down. Get the team assembled in five.”

“Lieutenant Walsh, we’ll need all three of our veteran pilots, one for the transport the others on tugs. Have the loadmaster prep the tugs with a ready to assemble gate, fabs, and supplies enough to get the Ark sealed back up. Cores included. I also want my Shield Monkeys with us. I want us to be ready for any surprises. We are on a rescue mission. You have fifteen minutes to get a pilot to the transport.”

“Torres, I need some Corpsmen to load out with us. Bring a doctor as well. The Ark is down.” All this was shouted while I ran to my quarters and changed into my armor.

One hour later we had arrived. Late. Ark-9 was stripped bare. The Hull had been torn off 90% of the ship. All the pods had been removed out of it. We found a few dead bodies. Marines and Spacers that had given their lives in defense of the ship. The engines still worked, but we didn’t learn that until after we rebuilt the power stations, new spec of course. They had been blown up from the inside according to one of the Marines that specialized in demolitions.

It took a full week to get the ship in a good enough condition to pull it through the gate that the tugs brought with them. The ships AI cores had been blown as well. Fortunately, the data banks were still around for us to get some information from, though there wouldn’t be much. After seeing the damage first hand, I had taken the transport back to Theta and gathered additional troops. I also sent a report to the Colony Base. It was not good.

I had asked Observer to come with me, so we could see about any of his people that may be on board. None were there. I returned once more on the transport to both drop off Observer as well as pick up more volunteers. In the end, I had mobilized most of the personnel that were out of the game, and I worked with whoever needed the extra hands.

We limped through the gate in a barely functioning Ark that, were we back in Sol, would have been destined for a scrap yard. The Clappy Bird connected to the ship had been our sensors and comms array. Fortunately, it also had captured all the light in the area, so we had a good chance of finding the whichever Escort did this.

We had work to do.

Ark-9 - Original

It had been three months since Janssens funeral. I could now walk without the use of my cane, though I did get phantom pains every now and again. I had decided to keep my left arm cybernetic. There were too many options that I had built into my arm to make it useful. My whole right hand now operated as a gas-propelled grapple. Even when “launched” I had full mobility and could send it “scampering” around.

I had reported the truth about Janssens resurrection to Colonel White and Captain Wallace because Observer and Neith had threatened to send it if I did not. I then locked all records of the task and had requested all data on it be fully removed from the systems. The only copies should be what is stored in our memories. The Colonel and Captain were disgusted at my actions. Not because of what I had done, but because I had deleted all data, and incinerated the body. Hera backed me up stating that all records of the data used for the resurrection were deleted from all databases.

When Colonel White came down to base and tried to convince CL4P-Tp to share the data, the response was a simple “Recompiling my combat code. Adjusting Friend or Foe parameters. I am a tornado of death and bullets.” Then the anti-personnel turrets started powering up. The Colonel decided that it would be a good idea to stop asking.

Other than Janssens death, we had lost two Marines that had been part of our teams from the beginning. The rest of the Marines lost during the raid had been members of Ark-11. We, and by that, I mean “I”, had decided to turn the walls of the entrance tunnels in the hangar bay into a living memorial. Whenever someone came through the airlocks they would have to check in with security, and while orders were verified, there was a very specific wall they would see.

The outpost was fully functional with enough room for two hundred fifty Marines, and another three hundred staff. Our medical facilities now had a dozen auto-docs set up with a half dozen Corpsman for Marine support, then three doctors and an additional three nurses.

We were the only facility that could successfully create a 100% biological match, cloned organ, so a lot of civilians had been making their way through the facility. With the loss of his Host, Utu evolved again, deciding to change his name to Shamash. He was now working primarily with the vats, ensuring that no more cloning would ever happen. He became one of the full-blown AIs on base.

I had been speaking with one of the doctors, a trained psychologist, because of what I had done. He was more than a little frustrated with me as I refused to admit that I had done the cloning then killed the clone. He knew there was something there, but I just wouldn’t speak with him about it, not directly. The ones who helped me the most were the fire team, which was once again broken up and shuffled around.

I had given up on the idea of using the vats to create genetically hardened or modified organs, bones and replacement limbs. Instead I was looking at something smaller. Micro-bots. The Nano that we used to insert the Neural matrices was great for adding onto, but some data that our good for nothing Civilian researches had brought back from the Captured Escort ship, had led us to researching weaving additional fibers directly into the bone. We didn’t have enough data on materials to try with any organs. Shamash agreed with this flow of logic and was working with the researchers and our new full-blown research AI, Woten, along with Ark-11’s Jurojin and Ark-5’sHera.

As for my own head, I was down to just Neith. Observer, Grace and Beauty - the last of my hitch hikers, were now secured in a room that generated a field like the what the waste of the Escort ships power generators gave off. In fact, all the aliens were now in the same room. My head was nice and quiet. It was also ready for the next batch of aliens we had to rescue.

Things seemed like they were coming together nicely. When Ark-11 had initially dropped their injured at the outpost, Ark-5 had transferred an equal number of Marines as had been injured or killed to them. Now there were requests to transfer of their own free will. We had even gained another half dozen pilots.

“Ma’am, we have a definitive course on Ark-9. What would you like to do?” the call came in on the sub-dermal communicator I had recently implanted. All command staff were now plugged in on comms with a subdermal unit.

“Have the calculations been done for the jumps?”

“Yes ma’am. It will take three jumps to catch up to them, and that is just due to astronomical interference. They are will within range for a single jump.”

“Assemble the heads. My office. I’ll be there in five.” I jogged out to my quarters and grabbed my light assault armor in case we decided to launch immediately. I managed to get to my office six minutes after the call, but still managed to be the first one to arrive. As I sat at my desk, the doors opened.

“Ma’am.” a Marine Captain named Jin, Lieutenant Walsh, Corpsman Torres, and, surprisingly Lebowski who was now sporting Sergeants chevrons walked through the door.

“Welcome everyone. We found Ark-9. How long until we can be wheels up?”

“What and how many will we be taking with us?” Lebowski asked.

“I figure we get two tugs prepped, and enough Marines for four or five assault craft. One platoon per craft, non-lethal. That’s my thoughts for now. I was planning on launching a drone to validate the data. The trajectory data shows that the first jump will take us to where we picked up Ark-11 at. Second jump seems to be taking it back towards where the remainder of the Arks had headed. I have one more planned in there for validation of light. The Done has enough power for eight total jumps and can auto deploy the sensors and comms relays.”

“Okay, so we get the drone out there to validate the data and get us anything… can you give us an estimate?” Walsh asked.

“10 hours until we have the data. That is enough time for the first skip past the Ark-11 rendezvous point. So, again, how long until we can be in the air?”

Captain Jin looked over to Lebowski. “What do you think?”

“Well, if it is like our last encounter, we’ll want some of her Monkey drones. Two shield units for each squad. One heavy for support. I’d say armed with a Hades. Maybe a spare drone that can recharge the battery pack and carry spare magazines. Ma’am, do you have any mods for the new BR’s? I’d like the zero-G barrels.”

“We’ll square that away once we know the status of the Ark and if there is an Escort with it.” I answered, not liking that he went straight to combat.

“Okay, but if it is just the Ark, then let’s not worry about the assault craft. Is there a troop transport that has skip capability?”

“If I remember the build plans correctly, we have two? Each can hold up to sixty-four personnel.” Walsh replied.

“Second one is taking a bit longer due to a lack of materials. The Miners should have that squared away for us in the next few days. Just a small problem with some of the elements needed for the skip drives.” I replied.

“We can field sixty-four if that’s the case. How about getting the rifle company ready and on stand-by?” Lebowski asked the Captain.

“All of them?” Jin did not seem pleased by that thought.

“Yeah. If we need to restore order, we can disable and patch quicker that way. If they aren’t under any external influence, then we just end up patching quicker that way and maybe we can come home for some rack time quicker.” Lebowski was thinking ahead. The chevrons suited him.

“Ma’am? What do you think?” Jin didn’t seem to want to make the decision himself.

“I agree with the Sergeant. Pulling the full rifle company would be smart. Any idea when Colonel White is going to assign additional staff, so we can just be an Expeditionary Unit?” The last part was rhetorical, and I cut off Jin before he could answer.

“Okay. Hey, Clap. You’ve heard what we need, right? Send out the drone.”

“Watch as we observe the rare and beautiful Clappy Bird!” the voice was shrill coming through the office PA system. One wall showed a launching pad open up from the external cameras and the drone shot out, almost immediately engaging the skip drive once it was clear.

“Clap, I’ve told you before. We aren’t calling it a ‘Clappy Bird’.” I said as Walsh started laughing. “You have something to add, LT?”

“Well, Ma’am… I hate to break it to you, but the moment it gets out that he’s calling it a ‘Clappy Bird’ the name is going to stick.” Shit, he’s right.

While we waited for verification we started to prep for both load outs. If the Ark was alone, then a rifle company would load into the Transport craft. If there was an Escort, then we would be launching four Assault Craft with another two on stand-by.

I even ordered the prep of the two tugs with a few backup AI cores in the event we needed to flush the AI like we had during the Reboot.

Sooner than I had thought possible, the 10 hours had passed. So far, we heard nothing back from the drone. At the 11 hours mark we finally received news. The drone had to make an additional jump to avoid some unknown wreckage.

“The Clappy Bird is sending signal now, Ma’am.” Shit, the word was out.

“Okay, Ensign. What are we looking at? Wait, I’m on my way up” I jogged over to the Sensors Relay.

On the screen was the husk of an Ark. It was dead in the water and not moving anywhere.

“Captain Jin,” I called him over his comms unit. “Prep your Marines. Full Rifle Company. SAR Operations prepare to depart immediately. Assault loadout with EMP as backups. The Ark is down. Get the team assembled in five.”

“Lieutenant Walsh, we’ll need all three of our veteran pilots, one for the transport the others on tugs. Have the load master prep the tugs with a ready to assemble gate, fabs, and supplies enough to get the Ark sealed back up. Cores included. I also want my Shield Monkeys with us. I want us to be ready for any surprises. We are on a rescue mission. You have fifteen minutes to get a pilot to the transport.”

“Torres, I need some Corpsmen to load out with us. Bring a doctor as well. The Ark is down.” All this was shouted while I ran to my quarters and changed into my armor.

Ark-9 was stripped bare. The Hull had been torn off 90% of the ship. All the pods had been stripped out of it. We found a few dead bodies. Marines and Spacers that had given their lives in defense of the ship. The engines still worked, but we didn’t learn that until after we rebuilt the power stations, new spec of course. They had been blown up from the inside according to one of the Marines that specialized in demolitions.

It took a full week to get the ship in a good enough condition to pull it through the gate that the tugs brought with them. The ships AI cores had been blown as well. Fortunately, the data banks were still around for us to get some information from, though there wouldn’t be much. After seeing the damage first hand I had taken the transport back to Theta and gathered additional troops. I also sent a report to the Colony Base. It was not good.

I had asked Observer to come with me, so we could see about any of his people that may be on board. None were there. I returned once more on the transport to both drop off Observer as well as pick up more volunteers. In the end I had mobilized most of the personnel that were out of the game and I worked with whomever needed the extra hands.

We limped through the gate in a barely functioning Ark that, were we back in Sol, would have been destined for a scrap yard. The Clappy Bird connected to the ship had been our sensors and comms array. Fortunately, it also had captured all the light in the area, so we had a good chance of finding the whichever Escort did this.

We had work to do.