Tales From the Terran Republic

Kara looks over at Bloody Arissa sitting in the captain’s chair nervously.

“What?” Arissa asked, narrowing her eyes. Something wasn’t right. She could smell the terror rolling off of Kara in waves.

“N-nothing…”

“Who was that on the coms?”

“Oh, nobody important,” Kara replied as nonchalantly as she could manage, “It was just the fleet asking for a status update.”

“So, if I played back the transmission, there wouldn’t be a problem?” Arissa asked as she casually thumbed the catch on her holster.

“No?” Kara replied calmly as she nonchalantly slid her hand toward the ship-wide intercom button. “Why would there be?” she asked, trying to keep her voice even.

She was dead. There was no way she could take Arissa. No way at all, even if Arissa didn’t have that sidearm. The only thing she could do was warn her friends… and Gwen.

Gwen was the only one who could save them now.

Never taking her eyes off Kara, she idly rose and swiped her fingers across her command console.

Kara pressed the button, activating the intercom, and desperately tried to keep her expression calm.

She was about to die. She felt a pang of despair and a wave of pure, unadulterated terror as she locked eyes with one of the legendary monsters of the Sol War, Bloody Arissa, one of Gwen Shay’s angels of death.

Arissa pulled up the communications log and pressed play…

0x4FFCC60, this is Analytica. Please transmit ship logs now… Logs received. Thanks, dudette! Looks like everything is cool. Later.

Arissa cocked her head as the message rang out over the intercom. Her eyes flicked over to Kara’s console and noticed a small flashing light. Kara had triggered it.

“Shit,” Kara said as she reached for her blade.

Arissa looked at Kara and narrowed her eyes.

“Computer!” she barked as she leveled her pistol at Kara. “Identify yourself.”

***

As the drama on the bridge played out across the entire ship, it exploded into a frenzy of activity.

“It’s going down, now!” the captain shouted into his communicator, breaking into the ship-wide broadcast. “Kill the Bar…”

He was cut off by the roar of a crowd and the sounds of a high school band. Analytica’s real voice rang out in a brisk cadence.

Ready! Up! Stick!... HIT!!!

Suddenly gravity was reversed across most of the entire ship.

Arissa flew upwards, as did Kara, Arissa’s shot missing. Kara expertly executed a flip and landed in a catlike crouch on what was the ceiling moments ago. ᚱἁΝＯΒƐs̩

Arissa wasn’t quite so fortunate, crashing to the “floor” in a heap.

Ready!... HIT!!!

Gravity reversed again, viciously slamming Arissa to the deck, something old and worn breaking with a snap.

Kara once again landed gracefully.

Ready!... HIT!

The cycle continued over and over again.

After a dozen or so times, the punishment stopped, and Jessica’s voice rang out across the intercom.

I’m disappointed in you, Captain. I’m prepared to forgive this indiscretion if you stand down immediately. Oh, and you are fired, just in case this wasn’t your resignation.

Barbies, the crew has turned on you and on Gwen. The ship has been locked down, but you are free to move. Please refer to your communicators for the locations of the crew. Analytica has taken the ship, but I harbor no illusions concerning how long that will last. Good luck. Gwen, if you can hear this, you are now the captain. Do what you must. The ship is truly yours now.

As Arissia, battered, bruised, and broken, tried to crawl to her pistol, Kara calmly walked past her and retrieved the weapon.

Without a word, she leveled it at Arissa’s head.

Arissa looked up into Kara’s expressionless brown eyes and grimly smiled, blood trickling from her mouth.

For some strange reason, she found the sight… reassuring.

Their time was done. The future belonged to the next generation, people like the Barbies. Old timers like her had long questioned the mettle of the pampered and coddled “kids.” Turns out they were wrong after all. They and the “next step of human evolution” would do to them and the whole fucking Federation what she and her fellow “kids” did to Sol so many years ago.

It was fitting… and humanity could do worse. With people like Gwen leading them, they probably would.

“Do it…” she smiled.

Bang

I can’t believe that worked! Analytica said cheerfully.

***

I’m disappointed in you, Captain. I’m prepared to forgive this indiscretion if you stand down immediately…

“Yeah, right,” Captain Marakovich sneered as he released the beam to which he was clinging and grasped his shoulder, which took the brunt of the abuse of that first vicious “HIT!”

He shook his head, which also took a “hit,” trying to clear it.

He reached for his communicator…

Do it… Bang! was broadcast from the speaker overhead.

He winced. Arissa was dead, killed by some snot-nosed kid. That hurt. It hurt in more ways than one.

“Status report!” he snarled angrily. “Who’s still moving?”

Silence

“Status report!” he yelled, a touch of fear in his voice. Was he the only one left?

He paused and chuckled grimly. That’s right. The communicators went through the internal network, which was completely under the control of Analytica, void knows how… and hopefully, Glitch did too, if she was still okay.

He rushed through the scattered clutter that was once a well-organized office to the door of his dayroom.

It didn’t open.

He snorted. Of course, it didn’t.

A buzzing came from a nearly forgotten compartment, the archaic sound-powered system still built, or in this case retrofitted, into every human-operated vessel for just this sort of thing.

He quickly opened it and pulled out a headset, plugging it in.

“Hey, cap,” Glitch’s weary and muffled voice crackled through the ancient tech headset.

“You okay?” the captain asked as a wave of relief washed over him.

“Define, okay,” Glitch’s muffled voice replied with a grim chuckle. “I can fight, sorta.”

“Are you okay enough to fix this?”

“Outhack Analytica herself?” Glitch snorted. “Sure. Why not?”

“How bad is it.”

“The bitch has the whole ship. I can’t even log in. All I get is a smiley face and a middle finger emoji. Working on it, but it’s gonna take a minute.”

“How?” the captain asked. “How did she get the ship?”

“Who did you get this ship from, again?” Glitch asked. “Analytica probably has a live hyperlink and every single password there is, even ones that we don’t have.”

“So, we’re fucked?”

“I didn’t say that,” Glitch chuckled, “I just said it would take a minute.”

The captain’s phone started buzzing as multiple people tried to get through. He smiled. Annoying as it was in the moment, it was a very, very welcome annoyance.

“How are you going to beat a freaking AI?”

“By cheating,” Glitch said. “I can’t beat Analytica, but she isn’t here. We are. We unplug the bitch. If I can get to the nodes, I can just yank the cables. Most systems will auto-reset and switch to manual. If we get to the right ones, we can block her and control the ship from here or your cabin.”

“I’ll inform the men,” the captain said, “and what is up with your voice?”

“Emergency breathing apparatus,” Glitch muffled. “How long before Analytica comes up with the same plan we did?”

“Shit.”

The captain shook his head. He must have hit it harder than he thought, or maybe he was just getting old. He immediately rushed to another cabinet, took one out, and quickly put it on.

He then started answering frantic call after frantic call, issuing commands, and counting the dead, or in this case, the useless. It wasn’t great, but it wasn’t hopeless either. The crew might be old and creaky, but they had been space crew for decades. Most were battered but managed to grab something after the first “hit” or two, just like he did.

There were more than enough of them to do the job. They were just kids, after all. That Kara bitch just got lucky.

The others won’t.

***

“Told you trying to drag those kids was a bad idea,” Susan said to Gwen as they floated surrounded by existential madness next to her terminal. The warranty might have been shot, but the terminal was still working.

“Who knew pirates were such pussies?” Gwen shrugged. “They used to barbecue babies, not cry over them. Oh well.”

She turned to the terminal.

“Nice of you to drop by,” she said, “You just saved our bacon.”

Happy to help. The crew seems really annoyed with you. I have some really nice courses in interpersonal relations that you might want to take a look at if you survive.

“HA! So, how bad is it on our end? Is Vee okay? How about the puppies?”

Lucky break there. Vee was in the cargo hold with the pups. Those have separate gravity generators, you know, for cargo handling. I was able not to hurl the munchkin several stories into solid titanium. Her brother, however… He’s not so lucky. Looks like he broke something, maybe a couple of somethings. He’s somehow managing to get to his feet and I’m filling him in on the situation… and reassuring him that his sister is safe.

“Phew,” Gwen said, quite relieved. “Thank the void!”

Your adorable little guinea pigs are also safe if you even care about them.

“Yeah, cool,” Gwen shrugged. She, in fact, did not care. “How about my girls?”

Becky really needs to work on her acrobatics. She ain’t doing so good. Pam and Marsha missed the first hit, but you guys are young and bouncy, not old and brittle. They’re fine…if it matters.

“What do you mean?”

Well… I have a suggestion. You aren’t going to like it, though.

“I am also not a big fan of dying,” Gwen chuckled. “What you got?”

I am in complete control of the ship… including the shield generator. There is an easy answer to this whole mess.

“No,” Gwen said firmly. “I’m not dragging my girls, and I am NOT dragging Vee!”

Gwen hovered back and forth, pulsing thoughtfully.

Hey, do you mind if I switch off the video? I do NOT like what I am seeing.

“What? Oh yeah… sure…” Gwen replied lost in thought.

She flickered and twisted in ways that one really shouldn’t.

“Got it,” she said cheerfully. “Have the girls come here!”

But you don’t want to drag them, right?

“This room has its own shield generator, you big dummy,” Gwen laughed, “We raise the shields here and then drop them everywhere else. We save my girls, Vee, and the puppies, and my buddies here get a whole ship full of playmates! Win-win!”

I’ll tell the Barbies.

“Better if it comes from me,” Gwen said, “Put me through.”

***

Hey, gang… Gwen’s distorted voice called out over the Barbies’ communicators. It looks like the crusties want us dead. Void knows why, haha. We got Analytica on our side, and we have the ship… for now. Get your asses to my quarters. I’ll explain when you get here. Watch out for the crusties! They got knocked around a little, but they didn’t live this long by being pussies. Don’t try to get to the arms locker. They already have people there, and you’ll die. Just get here, and I’ll explain everything…

There was a pause.

Vee, everything is going to be okay. I promise. Crusties, if you harm one hair on Vee’s head you know what will happen to you, right? What you don’t know is that I can make this even WORSE. Don’t hurt Vee. You won’t like what happens if you do.

Vee, surrounded by a perimeter of snarling murderborers, looked up at Beth, her current babysitter.

One of the Barbies tended to stay close to Vee when they jumped, especially after they caught her trying to get into Gwen’s quarters that one time.

“Beth?” she asked the teen who was in the process of backing away from the pack of murderborers who were suddenly unsure if they should let her live, “What’s going on?”

“There’s just a little disagreement between the pirates and Gwen,” Beth said as reassuringly as she could.

“Are they fighting?”

“I’m afraid so, Vee,” Beth said as she got a hefty prybar from a tool locker, wishing that she carried a weapon. “Vee,” she said urgently, “We have to go.”

“We’re going to go see Gwen?”

“Yes, Vee.”

“But we aren’t supposed to bother her.”

“Gwen says it will be okay. Come on, Vee, let’s go.”

Beth and Vee, surrounded by a pack of murderborers, left the cargo bay.

Oh, yeah, Gwen continued over the speakers. Somebody get Becky and Vee’s bro on the way.

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