Breach

fiction by michael werneburg

2002.07.26

"There are many ways to define duty. We absolutely must prevent this leak of knowledge and data."

"Yes, Lieutenant."

There was another loud bang. "We're go," Marl called. She'd barely said it when Xin told the other, "Let's move!"

Everyone had their harnesses off and weapons in hand. Following Xin, they went to the nose of their craft and found a circular portal in the deck. Xin dropped through, and the rest followed. Once they were in the captive alien jet below, everything was different. It turned out that private Caofsh passenger jets looked much the way like human ones had centuries before. Well appointed with padded seats and soft lighting, it looked like it would normally be quite comfortable. Of course, with many panicked aliens flailing in seats hanging from the upside-down floor it was a dangerous situation and would prove unpredictable. Most of the aliens were staring at them in abject terror.

With a sudden scream, one of the aliens loosened its restraint and fell to the feet of the humans. It scrambled upright and started yelling something at them. To Marl, it seemed male, with a heavier build than many of the others who remained in their seats. It was so humanoid that Marl was surprised; the various videos hadn't made that clear. He looked a bit like a Neanderthal with a sloped forehead, but with wideset and doe-like limpid eyes and fine downy hair all over his face. Xin shot him dead and all the other passengers started screaming anew.

Xin turned to Eisberg and said, "Am I right that he's in the back?"

"Yes, the reading here is a bit clearer. Another eight meters to the rear."

They followed an aisle between the seats and spotted the hapless Prince lying on the plane's inverted ceiling in a tight binding of some kind. They couldn't see his face. Xin told Marl, "Can you and Hiram please watch these Caofsh?"

Marl nodded. It suited her just fine to have the Ensign and herself minding the aliens, as she knew they would both honor the Prescriptions and there would be no further out-of-hand killing on board. If Xin was going to deal in further violence, it could be directed toward the Prince. She didn't like to think that way, but she was not feeling terribly charitable. She told the Ensign, «Take up a position on the far side of the fuselage, would you? That's right, but away from the seats.» She was all but prone, scanning the aliens in their seats for any sign of weapons. Given the scene where this jet had become airborne, she was surprised that the aliens seemed so disciplined about weapons.

Xin and Eisberg went to the Prince. There was a muffled sound from the prince as the two humans began to work at his restraints. She heard Xin tell him, "Be still will you? We're not here to execute you."

In a moment, they had the Prince standing; or at least crouching. He looked bad, like he'd been severely beaten. He couldn't speak clearly through the swelling around his mouth, and he was covered in blood.

Xin administered a shot that would combat the pain and swelling. "Where is the field generator?" She demanded.

The Prince mumbled something.

"What's that? Four Quartet, what is that?"

Xin said, "Is that the name of an alien?"

"He's nodding, that's an affirmative."

"Is this Four Quartet here on the ship?" Xan asked.

There was a mumbled response that Marl couldn't catch.

"I don't think he knows," Eisberg concluded. "But the memory chips, your Highness? They are aboard?"

"Another nod. Well, that's something. Chrissy, do you have software to break into this ship's systems?"

"Of course."

"We're going to need to find records of this Four Quarter,"

"Four Quartet," she corrected. "Mother, please take control of the alien systems and search for the records."

"Of course, Lieutenant," came the response from the console on Xin's hip.

"Your Highness, is the shot I gave you working? We have many more questions."

Marl looked away, knowing that that conversation was only going to go downhill for the Prince. Some motion near the front of the jet caught her eye, just as Hiram hissed, «Lieutenant!»

Marl held up her weapon and thumbed the torch. Livid white light bathed the interior of the jet. At the far front, one of the aliens was poking about at the hole they'd cut in the deck. «Switch to non-violent rounds and fire at will!» she told the Ensign, and did the same herself. The small beanbags that their weapons fired didn't have great range, but the craft wasn't really that large. With the two of them firing, they quickly downed the alien.

"What is it?" asked Xin.

"Not sure, maybe a member of the crew. I think it was a female, wearing a uniform."

"Agreed," said Hiram.