Prime’s throne snapped shut, enclosing him
in a clear blast shield and extended a foot to lock it to the floor. “Glass Mountain,” he snapped. “Station over-ride.
Fortesque, your security has been compromised.” A flick of his finger sent the
Immoderate Captain to his knees, through his permanent neural web. When he staggered to his feet, a trickle of
blood trailing down his chin where he’d bitten through his cheek, Prime
snapped. “I ordered no such monstrosity, there are no Galactic techs present
yet. This could well be a planted trap from my son when he came home.”
“Yes, Prime,” Fortesque cleaned his face
with a mediwipe kerchief. “Deep search commencing. Glass Mountain over-rides
acknowledge through the shuttle. Station
isolated and protests.”
“It’s a machine. Shut it off if you have
to. I won’t have it complaining to the
courts. Those stupid laws about machine
sentience are a downright nuisance.”
“When someone is attacking you, yes sir.”
The shuttle slammed into aggressive mode,
where it was parked, the heavy guns dropping out of their ports to cover Prime.
Terry had his hands over his face, peering
through his fingers and Alissa stared, fascinated, leaning forward, watching as
the Station was cut out of all control and contact. In code, he could see
Station seized up in the claws of the security dragons and bodily ripped out of
its place and held, suspended. Far off
in the distance he could hear Station, weeping, but unable to do anything. *Mom?*
he whispered.
*I am ninety-four percent sure they cannot
find us. I am activating my most extreme
security protocols to protect you, Terence. I’m sorry that they are older
programs than Prime’s new security dragons.* The cameras shut down and the only
things they could see were lighted dots marking Immoderates locations in
Station and Prime. Audio still came
through.
“Main control room, Captain. Secured with
Glass Mountain.”
“Good, Williams. Proceed to crew quarters
and join Matthews.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Guest quarters still sealed, Captain.
Seals show no signs of tampering. Laying another seal on it.”
“Good, Jones. Remain there.”
“Rebuild of display towers on the eastern
landing field after construction collapse.”
“Stupid machine,” Prime snarled under his
breath before lapsing into silence once more.
“Station records show meteor strike
recently. Repairs initiated...” Terry’s shirt was suddenly soaked with perspiration
and he was holding his own breath. One
channel held only the sound of Prime’s breath. He could not be in distress,
given his support systems, so that hissing, gasping sound could only be his
rage.
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