Episode 24: A Bad Vibe and a Ghost in the Machine

Taro and Marl stared at Koume, their jaws collectively hitting the floor.

"Wait, the Neural Net is down? Like, 'the-internet-is-dead' down?" Taro stammered. "Was it the collision?"

Koume’s mechanical neck gave a sharp, robotic snap of a head-shake.

"Negative, Mr. Teiro. The symptoms were present before we even entered this star system. Therefore, I highly doubt the Solar Wind is the culprit. I initially flagged it as a routine connection hiccup, but the situation has... evolved."

Marl’s fingers danced across her console. "I'll try the secondary networks." She bit her lip, scanning the scrolling data. "Okay, the Solar System Network is still up. The station’s local loop is live, too. What gives? Is it literally just the Neural Net that’s crashed?"

She pulled a face like she’d just sucked on a lemon, then toggled the comms. "Hello? Calling Control Tower. This is DD-4649 Plum. Do you copy? DD-4649 Plum."

"Koume, fire up a Wide-area Scan," Taro ordered, his skin crawling. "Teiro-chan’s bad-vibe-o-meter is pinging like crazy."

Koume jumped to it. Since her Optical Scanner just chewed on incoming light, it was the only thing that didn't go haywire in a radiation storm. Of course, the downside was that it couldn't see through solid objects, making it about as useful as a flashlight in a junkyard maze.

"Mr. Teiro, I detect no other vessels in the immediate vicinity," Koume reported, her voice dropping into a dramatic, portentous register. "However... there is one minor discrepancy."

Taro and Marl leaned in. Koume loved a good dramatic reveal, usually right before something exploded.

"The volume of debris in this sector is approximately 440 times higher than the regional average. I suggest we prepare for a catastrophic accident—or the absolute worst-case scenario."

Taro didn't wait for the punchline. He scrambled to bring the ship’s combat systems online. They hadn't seen a bogey yet, but he hadn't survived this long by being an optimist.

"Teiro, I’ve got the station's Control Tower feed..." Marl’s voice went small and shaky. "Oh... oh no. Teiro, we need to leave. Now. The station is a ghost town."

Taro blinked, his hands freezing over the controls. "...Come again? Like, 'everyone’s at lunch' unmanned, or 'everyone’s dead' unmanned?"

"The latter. I just checked the local network," Marl said, her face pale. "They’ve got an automated evacuation loop running. I’m patching it through to your BISHOP. Get ready, it’s not pretty."

Static screamed through Taro’s ears, a jagged mess of interference from the Star Adela. Through the electronic snow, a desperate voice flickered:

[ ...FROM ADELA STATION 1 MANAGE... COMMITTEE. REPEAT. THIS IS THE ADELA STATION 1 MANAGEMENT COMMITTEE. WE HAVE... SUFFERED AN ATTACK BY A MULTITUDE OF WIND. THE SELF-DEFENSE FORCE HAS BEEN DEFEATED. AS OF... HOURS AGO, THE DECISION TO ABAN...DON THE STATION WAS MADE. CONNECTION TO THE NEU...RAL NET REMAINS... DOWN. EVACUATION DESTINATION IS THE SG... STARGATE. THE STATION HAS BEEN... TAKEN. REPEAT... THE STATION HAS BEEN TAKEN OVER. ORBITAL TRAJECTORY HAS BEEN SET TOWARD THE STAR... PRAY... ]

Taro sat in grim silence. He played the clip back three times, trying to scrub the noise, his expression hardening with every loop.

"Taken over... the whole station? By the WIND?"

"That’s what the logs say," Marl whispered. "Koume, check the station’s trajectory."

"At once, Miss Marl. Calculating... [CALCULATION COMPLETE]. Confirmed. Adela Station 1 is currently on a terminal descent path toward the Star Adela. I suspect this is the work of the WIND."

Koume tilted her head inquisitively. Taro let out a harsh breath.

"Who knows? If they were being overrun, maybe the survivors decided to take the whole place down with them. Scorch the earth so the monsters don't get the loot. They say the military doesn't bother with the sticks, so they were probably on their own."

The bridge fell into a suffocating silence. Finally, Marl shook herself.

"Look, regardless of what happened, we need to clear out. If the WIND are still on that station, we’re sitting ducks. The contract is officially a bust. Let’s just go."

"Yeah, fair point," Taro agreed. He toggled the ship-to-ship comms. "Plum to Stardust. Alan, is your Overdrive Device holding up? Can you jump?"

"Stardust here," Alan’s voice crackled back, sounding remarkably casual for a man parked next to a doomed space station. "Yeah, we’re golden, Boss. Which Stargate are we aiming for?"

"I don't want to get mixed up in a war zone, but I'm curious," Taro admitted. "Let's head for the evacuation coordinates."

"Roger that. Though, word of advice? If they evacuated there, there’s a fifty-fifty chance you’re jumping right into a mosh pit of WIND."

He’s not wrong, Taro thought. He switched his display to the Plum’s damage report and groaned at the sight of the mangled exterior.

"True. But even if we're running, I want to find whoever’s in charge and give them a piece of my mind. If you’re gonna abandon ship, at least turn off your damn docking beacons! Another few seconds and we would’ve been space-dust."

Marl nodded fiercely. "Exactly! The law might have changed regarding reparations, but I can still sue for negligence. I’ll drag them through the courts until they’re begging for mercy!"

"Wow, I haven't heard anyone use the phrase 'begging for mercy' in about two centuries," Taro muttered.

"For an Iceman like you to say that, Miss Marl must be truly old-fashioned, Mr. Teiro," Koume chimed in helpfully. "In any case, if we are to depart, speed is of the essence. There is zero profit to be found in this graveyard."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm on it," Taro said, beginning the Overdrive sequence. He ignored Marl’s indignant screech of "What’s that supposed to mean?!" at Koume and played the station's emergency recording one last time.

God, this static is murder on the ears... Wait... what was that?

He caught a tiny, jagged ripple in the audio—something that didn't fit the pattern.

"Taro, prep is done. Initiating Overdrive," Marl announced.

"Wait! Hold on! Stop!" Taro yelled. "I heard something."

He closed his eyes, focusing every nerve on the audio feed. Marl, sensing his intensity, bypassed his BISHOP and fed a raw data-stream into his interface. "Try using the Analyzer function."

"Man, I love the future. Who needs sonar operators?" Taro marveled.

"It’s not magic, Taro," Marl countered. "The computer just spits out a list of data. You still need a human brain to actually understand it. Though, they say some people are actually better at spotting patterns than the Sound Analyzer itself."

A waterfall of audio-spectral data flooded Taro’s vision, categorized into neat, glowing blocks. He spotted a second sub-channel buried under the "Voice" header. "Bingo, baby!"

"There’s really something there?" Marl leaned over his shoulder, impressed. "You’ve got incredible ears. Is it a biological thing with you 'Ancient' types?"

"Shut it, you 'Future' person," Taro retorted. He pressed his headset closer and isolated the clip.

[ ...GENCY, EMERGENCY. THIS IS... ADELA STATION 1. IF ANYONE CAN HEAR THIS, PLEASE RESPOND... PLEASE. EMERGENCY, EMERGENCY... ]

It was the voice of a young woman, strained and cracking. Taro felt a pang of pity. He didn't know if people still felt "station pride" in this era, but being hunted through your own home was a universal nightmare.

"Alright, let’s go," Taro said, his mood dipping. "She’s just looping an emergency call. I hope she made it out."

"Wait," Marl said, her eyes narrowing as she looked at the readout. "An emergency call? I don't hear anything like that. The spectral pattern is just repeating the station's sector address... Let's put it on the main speakers."

She boosted the gain and routed the audio to the bridge's internal speakers. The sound of crackling fire and screaming metal filled the room, followed by a voice that was decidedly not a recording.

[ "Please! Someone... help me! This is Block KH-3352! The WIND are... they’re here! They’ve breached the inner sector! My receiver is broken, I don't know if anyone... please!" ]

The audio cut out as the buffer emptied. The bridge was deathly silent.

"That’s... that’s not right," Marl whispered. "That was different from the one you heard, Taro."

"Yeah. Totally different. My clip was 'emergency, emergency' on a loop."

"Two different messages? That means..." Marl’s eyes went wide. She stood up so fast her chair hit the bulkhead. "Oh my god!"

Taro felt the realization hit him like a freight train. "Holy crap! It's not a recording! There's someone still alive in there!"

"Koume! Pinpoint the source! Find the Control Tower!"

"Understood, Miss Marl," Koume replied, her voice remaining eerily calm. "However, I must perform a mandatory check: The probability of a WIND presence at that location is extremely high. Do you still intend to attempt a rescue?"

Taro and Marl turned to the AI with identical expressions of outrage.

"Duh! Of course we are!" Taro barked.

"Of course we are!" Marl echoed.

The two stared at each other for a beat, surprised by their own synchronicity, before turning back to their stations.

"Understood, Miss Marl, Mr. Teiro," Koume said. "Block KH-3352 is located at the base of the pier on the port side. I am uploading the waypoint to your HUDs now."

A bright blue blip flickered to life on the holographic display of the station.

"Thanks, Koume. Full thrust! Target straight ahead!" Taro shouted. "Marl, try to hail her—I don't care if her receiver is busted, just keep screaming. And Plum to Stardust! Alan, you read us?"

"Stardust here. Yeah, I’m eavesdropping. I’ve got the coordinates," Alan’s voice was suddenly much more focused. "My ship’s got more leg than yours—want me to scout ahead?"

"Please! If you see any WIND, don't engage unless you have to, just feed us the intel!"

"Copy that, Boss. See you at the finish line!"

The Stardust let out a roar of ion fire, its engines spewing a long, brilliant tail of light as it shot forward. With its massive engine-to-mass ratio, the smaller ship accelerated like a kinetic slug, leaving the Plum in its wake.

"Right then," Taro muttered, cracking his knuckles as he settled into the pilot’s seat. "Let’s see if I remember how to do this."

He began to pull every scrap of combat knowledge from the back of his brain, his eyes fixed on the looming, doomed silhouette of the station. It was time to go to work.