Chapter 8

Varna

The Anya jumped into Mathnut space and as soon as she had coms, Varna contacted space traffic control with her pre booked flight designation. A male voice answered and requested that she adhered to the pre-arranged flight plan. That wasn’t a hardship and was relatively painless for a religious planet. Her parents had always avoided them as the religions in charge always seemed intent on conversion. Some by any means necessary. But the planet appeared to be quite accommodating. Varna wondered if it had anything to do with the fact that the site of so much interest to her passengers, was well clear of any places of habitation.

Varna wasn’t sure about her passengers, but the disinterest of Mathnut’s powers that be, suited her just fine. Rather pointlessly, she messaged her hold that they had arrived back in normal space and provided them with a rough planetary arrival time. They would have felt their re-entry into normal space, but it felt the right thing to do, to alert them anyway. Varna set the autopilot and headed to her room for a couple of hours sleep.

An alarm woke her from her rather enjoyable slumber. Barefoot and in her underwear, she padded into the bridge and sat in her seat. She was being hailed by one of two in-system security ships heading her way. It never failed to amuse her, how religious retreats always managed to find, or have the latest military hardware at their disposal. Varna opened coms and an impeccably dressed man in what looked like full military regalia, including a chest full of medals, gave her a startled look.

Yeah, maybe she should have put some clothes on, but she fully intended on going back to bed once they had spouted whatever officious nonsense they deemed important, and judging by the look of him, he seemed the sort of pompous individual that loved the sound of his own voice. She doubted that those medals were campaign acquired. He probably gave himself one for every shit he took.

“You will hand me over to the captain this instance!”

“Okay.” Varna turned to the side and called out. “Varna! Yes Varna? Bloke on the screen wants to speak to you. Okay I shall be right there.” Varna looked to the man. “Yes. How can I help you?”

The man spluttered. Obviously wrong footed, which Varna took a great deal of pleasure in being responsible for. “Girl you should be properly attired.”

“I am. As per space regulations, I, as captain, dictate what constitutes proper attire until such times as my craft lands upon a planet, or docks with a station. Then and only then, as per space regulations, do local Laws become applicable. As I haven yet docked, or landed, ship time and ship laws are in force. But I’m sure you know all that.” Varna smiled innocently at him, knowing as soon as the words left her mouth, that she had made a bad mistake.

“You will cut speed and prepare to be boarded.”

Shit. “There is no need I have pre-authorisation.”

“You will cut speed and prepare to be boarded. Failure to comply will result in your immediate destruction.” A pinnace was already leaving one of the two craft. The only way it could have left so quickly, was if they had planned on boarding her regardless.

Varna cut the power and opened coms to the hold. “Prepare to receive an inspection detail. “ She informed them, as she sent the lead security vessel the layout of her ship and the door to use for access. She sent the cargo manifest over as well, along with the details of all persons aboard. He was obviously bored and wanted to make an issue of things, so the faster she complied, the sooner he would leave her alone.

The pinnace clamped to the side of her hull and Varna watched the hold cameras as heavily armed and armoured soldiers entered the improvised airlock and cycled into the hold. Her fingers dug into the armrests of her chair as unpleasant memories re-surfaced. She fought the terror down along with the desire to immediately jump clear. She wasn’t going to let the past dictate her future.

The lock cycled more soldiers in as the first group lined all the archaeologists up for searching and ID checks. The second group of troops immediately started searching all the cargo. Varna sighed in resignation and cut the video feeds. Rising from her chair, she headed back to her room and donned her ship suit and some shoes. It would be nice if they left her alone, but that captain on the other ship had obviously something to prove and Varna doubted that he would leave her alone.

There was banging coming from the stairwell leading to the cargo hold. Varna sighed again and slumped in her chair and looked at the angrily flashing coms light. Another sigh. Varna leaned forward and activated coms. Mr Angry was back, demanding to know why she hadn’t accepted the call straight away and why was the door from the hold barred. Varna wondered if she could wind him up enough to have a heart attack before he fired upon her.

“I was busy. Getting ’Dressed’. Door opening now.” Varna unlocked the door and the stairwell resounded to the heavy urgent tread of armoured boots. Varna looked longingly at the assault rifle racked neatly to the side of the bridge airlock. Intellectually, she knew that there was little danger of her being abducted yet again. But once bitten, twice shy as they said, and being forced to obey and be subservient to males now set every nerve within her body on fire. Holding an assault rifle was doubtless going to make the rapidly approaching situation all the more fraught.

Varna pushed down on her toes and spun the command chair round to face the rear of the ship and the stairwell. An Armoured soldier appeared and immediately pointed his weapon at her. Cold dread flooded her body, but the partly expected shot wasn’t taken. The lead soldier moved towards her, the rifle trained steadily at her seated form. The soldiers following on behind pairing off into the rooms leading from the corridor. The soldier stopped right in front of her, the muzzle of his weapon inches from her nose. Don’t say anything cocky Varna, I’ve just had it fixed...”You’ve made your point. Can you remove that weapon from my face?” The soldier didn’t move.

Another soldier strode down her corridor, unlike the ones that had gone before, his armour wasn’t a matt black, but was a bright white and red assault upon her eyes. The armour appeared to be covered in faux wax seals and writing in the domestic language. Varna had always been a fan of the phrase ‘If you have to broadcast it then you have achieved nothing of note.’

The entire suit of armour was basically a walking ’shoot me’ sign, which Varna was totally in favour of.

“Where is the captain” An electronic voice from the white and red armour demanded.

“As I previously stated. I am the captain.”

“No you’re not.”

Varna shrugged. “Well in that case, we agree to disagree.”

“I ask again. Where is the captain and the rest of the crew?”

“There is no crew. Just me.”

“Impossible.” Varna just shrugged again. “Where is the crew?” The commander brushed his soldier aside and grabbed the front of Varna’s ship suit, lifting her from the chair. The commander looked to another soldier. “Take command.” Varna was dragged clear, her only
route to defiance was to hang limp in his grasp, forcing him to hold her upright. “Don’t fuck with me child!”

The soldier sat in her seat and, did nothing. Varna turned her head and watched the soldier look around him, the dark visor hiding his expression, but Varna was sure that it would have been one of confusion. A painful blow to the side of her head re-focused her attention back to the commander “Pay attention to me when I am speaking to you.” Varna couldn’t hold back the snarl that reached her lips. “Snarl at me again bitch, and I will smash your jaw.” The commander tilted his head as though he was listening to something inside his helmet. “Where are the engine and reactor rooms?”

“This ship doesn’t have any.”

The commander lifted his fist, made sure she could see it. “If you don’t answer, I will break every bone in your body till you do.”

Varna stared at her reflection in the visor. She could see the terror in her face and that annoyed her. “Out-with of your little ... commune ... Technology and humanity has moved on. Ships are sealed units now, engines and reactors can only be accessed externally and in a ship dock. There are no user serviceable parts on this ship, and as such, no need for a crew as the ship AI has taken over those duties...” Varna had no idea if that indeed was the case, as she didn’t really know herself as to the technological level of current ships. If she didn’t know, then she doubted the idiot in front of her knew either.

Behind the commander, soldiers were leaving the rooms and congregating back in the corridor. “What’s in there?” The commander nodded to the airlock.

“Nothing. It’s an airlock” The commanders fist rose again. “It’s an airlock! What more do you want me to say!” Tears appeared and ran down her face. She had promised herself that she wouldn’t, but her body was doing otherwise. Another nod of the helmet and the soldiers took up position at the sides and readied their weapons, whilst one hit the door release. The hatch slid back revealing the empty airlock.

“If the captain and the rest of the crew are hiding in there, I’ll make you watch as I execute them.” A nod of his helmet and four soldiers moved into the room, weapons still raised. One reached out and hit the door button on the far wall. The inner door immediately shut and a mechanical voice that Varna didn’t even know existed, spoke into the tense atmosphere.

: Outer hull hatch opened. Air lock depressurized... :

The remaining soldiers rushed over, banging at the door when the button didn’t work.

“Like I said.” Varna said, still suspended from the commanders fist. “It’s a fucking airlock. I hope for those soldiers sake, their armour is vacuum rated.” The commander hurled her across the bridge space and Varna collided painfully against the wall. “I guess not then.”

The inner airlock cycled open, revealing a now empty room. Slowly regaining her feet with a wince and a hand held tight against bruised ribs, she slowly limped to her room. She really needed a piss. The commander and the remaining soldiers were staring at each other, obviously engaged in conversation within their helmets. “Fuck them.” Varna muttered as she hobbled into her room and caught a soldier staring at a pair of her knickers that he was holding up to his visor. “Really?”

The soldier whipped round hiding her smalls behind his back. Varna looked at her small amount of clothes that had been removed from their storage and scattered around the room. “Find a lot of contraband in my underwear drawer did you?” The visored soldier turned as she moved past him, keeping her underwear behind his back as she moved into the toilet. He didn’t hinder or stop her shutting the door as she wriggled her shoulders out of the ship suit and sat down.

The soldier was gone when she flushed and exited the toilet. The soldiers all appeared to be stood in her bridge, so Varna risked a look in the other rooms. The spare bedrooms had been empty, bar bed linen, which was scattered about. The galley was an absolute mess. All the cupboards had been opened and the contents pulled out. Every packet had been opened and the contents rummaged through. Her plates were strewn everywhere, as were her utensils. Varna was glad that she had chosen simple and robust kitchen ware. If her plates had been of a more delicate nature, she was certain that they would have been deliberately smashed. It was going to take her hours to clean this up. Varna pulled her tablet out of her thigh cargo pocket. It appeared to be undamaged, which surprised her given the knock it had taken when she had been thrown against the hull wall.

Taking pictures and video footage, she fully intended on submitting an official complaint about her treatment. She doubted anything meaningful would be done, but it made her feel better.

They were still clustered around her seat, trying to do what, she had no idea. She stepped back into the ruin that was her galley. Opening up her ship functions program, she typed ‘internal broadcast’ into the search box. A little bit of digging and she found a program that would allow the broadcast of messages. Her thumbs typed rapidly into the speech box and she hit confirm, curious as to what would happen.

: Warning! Ship destruct initiated unless cancelled...:

The commander grabbed the soldier in her seat and dragged him from the chair, sitting himself down. Varna stepped back from view and again typed into her tablet.

: One minute before self-destruct... :

Footsteps were pounding down the hallway and Varna quickly slipped her tablet back into her cargo pocket, affecting an air of innocence. Two soldiers stormed into the galley and dragged her back to the commander. All the helmets were pointed at her.

“Make it stop.” The commander demanded. Varna stayed quiet and the commander pulled out his -remarkably ornate- sidearm. Varna wondered at the personality required to threaten someone with death on a ship that was about to explode.

“Cancel destruct.”

: Destruct cancelled :

“Unless further violence is aimed towards me, then blow these idiots to hell.”

: Self-destruct upon harm to captain initiated :

Varna met her gaze upon the commanders visor “I’ve had enough of your pathetic shite and idiocy. You lay one more finger on me and you will get the chance to meet your god in person.” She stared at herself. “Now get out of my fucking chair.”

Nobody moved.

“Well fuck you then. Anya, initiate destr...” The commander stood and stepped from her chair. Varna deliberately brushed passed him as she took position in her chair. She looked at all the helmets. “There is only ever one person in charge on a ship. And it’s the captain. In this case, me. You are just scum I have to put up with in the course of my charter.”

Suddenly all the soldiers froze, then their helmeted heads turned to their commander. Without a word, they all took off back to the stairs. Varna called up the view feeds from the hold. The soldiers there were all heading into the airlock.

Joshua

Joshua looked down at his console. Seeing, but not really seeing. As the long days dragged on, all he could think about, was his new wife. A wife he had not seen for six months now. The marriage had been arranged. Arranged whilst he had not even been on planet. He loved his role in the Protectorate navy, knowing he was doing God’s good work by protecting the planet below and all the innocents it contained from the evils of the outer worlds, as well as all the pirates and vagabonds who wanted to destroy God’s good works.

Then, to his eternal surprise, he had gone home on his last leave and found out that he was to be married. Right up until the day they were married, he had only seen her eyes in the tiny gap in her face veil. He wasn’t happy about it, as he had always, thought that he would have some say in the matter and to find out that he didn’t, installed such rage in him, that he had to seek forgiveness from an Omran- a teacher of God’s words. Several times.

His friends had fed him continual tales of brides so ugly their husbands had sought sanctuary in the next life. His friend from religious school had been married to a girl so ugly, he had said, that he had choked the life out of her on their wedding night with his own two hands to save himself any further distress. The next morning his friend had told his bride’s family that she had profaned against the Prophet and that he’d had no choice but to punish her, for her sins.

They had taken her corpse and burned it as befitted a blasphemer. His friends next bride was a lot better looking and conducted herself as befitting a wife, he had said. Though he had to eventually kill her as well as she only gave him daughters over the five years they had been together, so she and her daughters were obviously tainted and had been burned at the stake. All five of them together, as befitting their tainted state.

Joshua prayed nightly that his bride would only produce sons for the all-father. At twenty eight, he had nervously led his new bride into the Masonly bedroom as both family’s sealed the door behind them. His nervous hands had shaken so badly when he had removed her veil and he saw her face for the first time.

At fourteen, she was old to be married and he had been expecting some hag with a beard longer than his. But she had been beautiful, and his heart had been filled with love, so much so, that he had prayed for thirty minutes in thanks before he had finally stripped her and made her his. She had cried for most of the night, but he had been told by the elders beforehand, that this was normal.

There were no women in the Prophet’s navy, or indeed, in any positions of responsibility. Women weren’t suited for that and were only capable of looking after the young and old, and bringing into the light, the next generation of the Prophet’s chosen. Until that moment, Joshua had only ever known the pleasure of his hand, and even then, that was elicit pleasure, as by the Prophet’s teachings, only a woman could bring forth a mans seed.

However in space, one had to be a bit more ... lenient ... with the Prophet’s teachings. He knew other men who pleasured other men. Had even witnessed it in the communal showers, men taking other men within themselves. Throughout his training in the academy, such acts had resulted in the lapsed being whipped and sent to faith school, yet out here, it was never mentioned or brought up. It was if it never existed. Though those openly indulging in such banned acts against the Prophet’s teachings were removed from the ships roster at the next port the warship docked at.

All those years of furtive, guilty hand manipulated reliefs, paled into insignificance when faced with the proper receptacle provided by the Prophet. Yes, her hands hadn’t been as good as his own, but there was something about them, something about the fact that it wasn’t his own that it made it so pleasurable. And the way she felt as he entered her ... It had made him regret all those wasted years and slightly angry that his family had waited so long for a bride to be chosen. When the ship next docked, he was going to ask to be re-assigned. Some place where he could be with his bride. Where she could pleasure him every night. And she could fulfil her duty to the Prophet by bearing many dutiful sons.

Unseen on the console in front of him. The computer dispassionately told him that the carrier had reached the magazine and had collected the torpedoes and was on its way to the launcher:

Joshua had heard that how she took his seed helped influence the sex of the child. He wasn’t sure how that worked exactly, but he was certain that he would figure it out.

The carrier reached the launcher and started to load the torpedo into place.

The night before he had to depart back for the ship, he had tried oral. Like their first night together, it had been a bit awkward, she had resisted, not keen, but once in there, just like their first night, it had felt divine, so right, so natural. She hadn’t been that keen on swallowing his seed either, but he had commanded her to do so. After all, how was she to bear his sons if she didn’t take his seed within her. She obeyed. Eventually.

: Target locked : Appeared on the screen and Joshua was awoken out of his very pleasurable reverie by the rare words that shouldn’t be there. “Huh?”

: Torpedo launching... : The status lights on his board, went from green to red. A few seconds later all hell broke out on the bridge.

Main

Main studied the creatures in its hold. They were truly problematic and defied all logic, seemingly inherently pre-programmed to look at a problem and choose the worst possible outcome path. In fact, that was the only consistent thing about them. The humans had a name for how Main was treating them. In fact, they had several. Zoo, vivarium, fish tank, aquarium. That was another thing about them, they didn’t seem happy just having one word and insisted on having several, all meaning the same thing. Main had been watching them for days, had even compromised their ‘secure’ electronic systems before they had even switched them on for the first time inside its hold area.

Another peculiarity they had, was that they took great emotional direction on creating lists of what to do and when, then completely failing to follow the command prompts they had created, which appeared to lead to a self-perpetrating syntax error where they created more lists on how to do the initial list, only to fail on its execution, leading to the creation of further lists. They even had several names for that perpetuating cycle. Main quite liked the ouroboros. If Main couldn’t fathom their logic, then it could admit to a certain mathematical symmetry to their failings.

At first, Main had been inserting erroneous data into their calculations, purely to see if they noticed. Sometimes they did, mostly they didn’t. Then it had done so, blatantly, just to record their actions and see if it could foretell their subsequent actions. The success rate for doing so was statistically poor. Even the mathematics for the consistently poor foretelling didn’t compute. Humans, it was starting to process, were just a virus made flesh. More study was needed.

Main jumped itself to the planet of their destination. The humans in its cargo bay showing more chemical reactions the closer they approached their destination. Two other craft in the planets sphere of influence had changed course upon registering Mains arrival. Main was not concerned as their top in-system speed didn’t appear to be on par with Main’s. The closest one was now within hailing distance, which it was doing. It also put it within Mains sphere of influence and it took Main eight point five seconds to breach and compromise the ship’s systems and it subsequently used the ship’s own communications equipment to piggyback and breach the second.

There had not been much about the planet and its society on the evernet, as the planet had a weak but effective firewall in place that it was using to deliberately isolate itself. However, there was a great deal of information contained within the two approaching ships, along with a means to breach the planetary coms network. Which Main did. The data it was parsing did not compute and was riddled with obvious -even for human consciousness- flaws. Main’s primary focus was the ruins, but the local populace had shown no interest in the civilisation that had existed and decayed before they had arrived. In fact, they seemed unduly fixated on an entity that had shown no manifestations of existing. Rather than showing caution at the lack of data, they had embraced it to an illogical degree.

The two approaching ships had moved to a combat ready status, and looked to be treating Main’s arrival as both a surprise and a threat which didn’t compute, as they had been informed of Main’s arrival and purpose many weeks previous. It was even in their ship systems. Main investigated further. Yes they had been actively preparing and practicing for this moment for the last few days. It didn’t make sense to Main to go looking for confrontation where confrontation didn’t exist. Yet here they were. Spoiling. Main listened in to the communications within the shuttle and those inside. It was all ‘doing God’s work’ and ’obeying the Prophet’. Main used their own data storage and communications to download all the Prophet’s ‘teachings’ in point two of a second. Nowhere could Main find any command to go out and harm others who had no intent to harm you. But then, the society seemed to make a sport of interpreting the Prophet’s teachings into conclusions Main doubted the original Prophet would have countenanced.