ShipCore

USD: 65 days after the battle of Dedia IV

Location: 92 Pegasi, Ackman Orbit, A3123Y Orbital

Several armed MilTech guards stood around idly on the Mooring arm as Amy watched the shuttle carrying Port Master Whitely come in for docking. They had been in contact and finally had a reasonable plan for integration of the older Ackman station.

One of the major decisions Amy had made was to maintain Ackman as the primary habitation and port station in the system. It would be self-sufficient on its own, but not have the extensive industrial apparatus that A31 possessed.

The old station was only marginally capable of what Abbey and she envisioned, so they would rebuild it once tugged into a rendezvous with A31. The preference for a ‘rebuild’ instead of outright scrapping was partly to the station’s already established legal framework and recognition by the IFRB.

The new schematics that Abbey had designed were vastly different compared to the station’s original configuration. Legally, it would still be considered the same. Although the construction process would stretch that rationale for anyone paying attention since Abbey was already building the new station alongside the new cruiser.

Once it was done, the two stations would be welded together, then the old one scrapped as people transitioned across the connection to the new one.

It also wouldn’t have the military capabilities. It was Amy’s opinion that keeping most people away early on would be a lot safer for Starlight Revolution’s facilities; safer for Abbey as well. She understood the grumbling about her authority over operations and the need for some to vent because of her relative inexperience and youth, but it had become slightly tinged with a vitriol that she didn’t like.

The automated robotics extended the gangway and feedlines to the vessel and a few minutes later Whitely emerged from the airlock. Amy put on a smile and moved to meet him as he exited the gangway.

Whitely nodded, glancing around at the clean metal of the mooring arm. “Seeing it for myself in person is quite something. I didn’t think we’d see something like this in 92 Pegasi.”

Amy gestured toward the central station. As they walked down the mooring arm toward their destination, they discussed some minor details about the integration plans. The armed MilTech guards filed in behind them as an escort.

As they reached about halfway to the central module, a distant explosion shook the corridor. Sharing a startled look, Whitely and Amy both paused. Their security guards didn’t hesitate, grabbing them and herding the two to the side of the corridor where some steel crates were made for small cover.

“What’s going on?” Whitely asked.

Gunfire sounded down the corridor, and Amy reached up to tap her ear comm.

“Abbey? What’s going on?”

Static was briefly interrupted by a robotic sounding Abbey, “There is a coup attempt in progress. Various miner groups are attempting to storm the central ShipCore unit and various other control points on the station. Security protocols are now in effect.”

A siren blared, and spinning red emergency lights came to life.

“We should go back to the shuttle,” Whitely said, but as he turned to look back the way they had come, a group of men came into sight approaching from the mooring arm’s end.

A guard cursed as the new arrivals took aim and opened fire at them. Amy grabbed Whitely’s shirt and pulled him down behind the crate beside her.

“Don’t think that’s a good idea. Abbey will activate security drones, and MilTech will deploy from the central module.”

The MilTech soldiers moved to hold the attacking miners off, firing back with blind fire from behind whatever cover they could find. Amy and Whitely huddled and tried to stay out of the line of fire. A spray of bullets smashed into the metal crate across from them, sending sparks flying into their faces as the bullets ricocheted in random directions.

“We have to get out of here,” Whitely said, his voice urgent.

Amy frowned, looking at the guards who had their hands full. Doing anything to distract them seemed like a bad idea to her. Whitely wasn’t waiting to see what they thought though, crouch walking to the next set of crates and disappearing behind it.

“Portmaster!” Amy hissed as she followed him, not wanting to leave the man alone. She looked over her shoulder at the guards. “We are falling back!”

Going around the crate, Amy slammed into Whitely’s back, bumping her nose. “Owh!”

“They are coming from both directions.” Whitely said.

Amy slid behind the crate and poked her head up to look. A half dozen armed miners were slowly approaching, moving carefully from cover to cover.

Her heart raced as she realized they were trapped.

Another loud explosion sounded through the station and then, to Amy’s relief, a group of combat drones flew into the mooring arm’s main corridor from the central station.

The incoming group of miners stopped and turned to return fire at the small units. The fight ended quickly as the drones took out the miners and zipped down the arm to assist the MilTech security.

Still hesitant to move out of cover, Amy and Whitely returned to the guards to find them taking care of injuries. One man was dead, and a guard pushed a rifle into Amy’s arms.

The one in charge looked at them with an annoyed expression. “Don’t run off again if we end up in another firefight.”

Another explosion filled the air, this one occurring with a mini-earthquake of shaking that almost knocked Amy off her feet. Whitely’s hand reached out and helped steady her, but she was preoccupied looking out the arm’s large window to the Hex across from them.

A massive fireball jutted out into space from a moored ship, and the vessel was ripped off its robotic attachment and sent flying. Straight toward them.

“We need to get out of here!” Amy shouted, but as she watched, she realized the oncoming ship was going to smash into the section they were in long before they could get anywhere safer.

The others were still arguing over whether they should run toward the central module or the shuttle when the tumbling ship reached halfway to them. A small white orb flying into the ship was the first inkling Amy saw they might not be doomed.

A plume of exhaust flew out of the small orb construction drone as it attempted to arrest the freighter’s movement. Dozens of other drones arrived to assist, and as the ship came terrifyingly closer, they arrested the rotation. Dozens of drive flares blazed hard, barely bringing the hulk to a stop meters away from the fragile mooring arm section.

Amy punched her ear comm to get an update from Abbey, but the signal was being jammed or the NAI was too busy to respond. She gestured to the leader of the security group.

“We need to get to the central section. This place is too exposed,” Amy ordered. The guards, not having any better plans, gathered the wounded before the group headed inward with the drones taking point.

As they reached the threshold of the station’s outer ring, the area above the station lit up with tracers as PDC-Ks opened fire on the station itself. A guard grabbed Amy’s shoulder and directed her into a compartment doorway as the streams of traces crashed into the ring.

USD: 65 days after the battle of Dedia IV

Location: 92 Pegasi, Ackman Orbit, A3123Y Orbital

[Informative: 1236 hostile units confirmed. 456 neutralized. Confirming 536 in targetable locations across outer station sectors.]

Abbey watched the tactical screen highlight hundreds of small red dots across the outer hexes and ring. Blue dots representing security drones moved out to intercept them as the hostile forces attempted to seize critical reactors and security points across the station. Green dots representing MilTech security personnel were concentrated in several areas, including the main redoubt around the ShipCore.

Overall, friendly forces were outnumbered.

[Recommendation: Utilize defensive PDC-K weaponry to eliminate threats in areas that will minimize station damage and not affect I-field integrity.]

Abbey bit her lip. She did not want to destroy herself, but they needed to buy time.

With a thought, her MainComputer understood her will.

[Affirmative: Targeting hostile units that will not cause friendly casualties. Reinforcement drones have been summoned from Manufactory Station A. ETA: 12 minutes 37 seconds.]

[Notice: Hostile forces are attempting to breach ShipCore area.]

“I will take care of it. Are Amy and Logan, okay?”

[Informative: Amy and Portmaster Whitely have been rescued from collision danger and are being escorted by MilTech Personnel and security drones. Wyles Hammok is en route to them with assistance. Logan is currently attempting to bypass the locks you activated in his compartment via power armor suit.]

“Prevent him from leaving that cell; he would be in danger.” Abbey murmured.

Abbey reached out and activated her own power armor suit that opened itself at her touch. Stepping into it, the suit slid shut on its own, armor plates manipulated into place by nanite operated servos. She had designed it herself, the power armor meant to be operated solely by an NAI Avatar with active nanites assisting in its control.

She’d had to use her new computronics module to upgrade her framework so she could operate it effectively. That was expensive, since she could have used the module to accelerate the production of more computronics, which was her largest bottleneck during industrialization now.

As the faceplates sealed themselves together, she completed the initialization and her vision and sensation of touch jumped into the suit. It was slightly disorienting at first, but she quickly adapted, jumping a few times and stretching.

[Informative: Avatar participation in direct combat is a serious risk to station operations and actively invites defeat.]

Abbey paused, considering what happened during the battle with the enemy fleet.

“How many hostiles remaining?”

[Informative: 244 hostile actors detected.]

Abbey picked up a pulse rifle from one of the weapon racks and made sure it was charged. An electric whine confirmed the weapon was operational.

“I won’t put myself at risk, but I still need to go make sure they don’t get in the ShipCore section.”

As much as she wanted to go help Amy, she knew A31 was right. If she got knocked out again, all their defenses would go inoperative.

That couldn’t be allowed to happen ever again.

USD: 65 days after the battle of Dedia IV

Location: 92 Pegasi, Ackman Orbit, A3123Y Orbital

They had taken cover in an empty room on the outer station ring. Amy wasn’t sure it was the best place to be, but the guards were probably right that it was even worse to be moving around. The main concourse had hundreds of ruptures through the floor, ceilings, and walls. The shimmer of the blue hued I-field indicated why the atmosphere hadn’t vented them all out into space.

Debris floated out and off the station in an enormous cloud anyway, and several ships had been annihilated by the station’s defenses for whatever reason. She had no access to a tactical map.

Dozens of civilian ships were detaching from their moors and burning away in a mass exodus from the station.

Whitely brought her attention back to reality when he handed her a canteen of water. “Young lady, we are going to have a serious conversation when this is over.”

Amy furrowed her brow. “I think they timed it for your arrival. That group that came after us was a hit squad.”

“Do you have a report on the status of the situation? It would tell us if staying here or moving on would be safer.”

Amy tapped her ear comm again, calling for Abbey with no response. She didn’t understand; the defense was still ongoing, and Abbey should have been able to answer her!

One guard had a radio and came over to talk with them.

“Our boss is on the way with extraction.”

Amy frowned. “Your comms are working?”

The man nodded.

Amy pulled her ear comm out. The muted sound of gunfire and distant explosions suddenly raised in volume considerably. Turning over the piece of hardware in her hands, she spotted the problem. The receiver was cracked.

“Fuck. No wonder I can’t get through to Abbey. Do we have a spare?”

“Sorry Ma’am. But I recommend you keep that in. If we get into another firefight, you’ll go deaf without hearing protection.”

She did so and went back to waiting. It wasn’t long before Wyles pulled up outside the compartment in one of the MilTech APCs. The rear hatch opened and the large man stepped out.

“Need a ride?”

Amy looked at the APC without amusement. “Driving through the station should be illegal.”

“Maybe put in some tramlines then.” Wyles chuckled, but Amy shook her head in disbelief.

“You realize people were just shooting at us, right?”

Wyles slapped the APC’s side and a pop-up turret rose from the chassis. “Time to shoot back.”

“Just take us to the command module. I need to get to Abbey.”

“Sure thing, hop in. Keep in mind that’s likely where the fighting is going to be heaviest, though.”

Amy looked up at the damage wrought all across the station. It wasn’t the fighting that worried her; it was what could happen after.

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