EPISODE 9: "Command Ship Assault"
Opening: Arrival at Gamma
The Merchant's Purse drifted among dozens of other ships in the steady stream of traffic heading toward Gamma Station. Through the viewports, the kids could see the massive refining operation stretched out before them like some kind of mechanical solar system.
"Whoa," Griff breathed, his face pressed against the glass.
Three enormous wheels rotated slowly in the void, each one easily a mile wide. Raw stellarite was loaded into ports at the center of each wheel, and as the wheels spun, brilliant yellow-white energy crackled along their surfaces - the refining process in action.
Space-suited robots clung to the outer rings of each wheel, monitoring control panels and adjusting systems. Occasionally, one would lose its grip and tumble off into space, thruster pack firing desperately to return. Some made it back. Others just kept drifting until they disappeared into the darkness.
"They just let them float away," Leesa said, her voice tight with anger.
At the center of it all sat the command ship - a massive vessel that coordinated the entire operation. Smaller ships constantly docked and undocked, delivering raw stellarite and picking up the refined product.
"The spacesuits control the robots," Alice explained, studying the sensor readings. "Similar to the control collars, but integrated into their environmental systems. Each suit receives commands from the wheel monitoring stations on the command ship."
"So if we shut down the wheels..." Brock began.
"The suits lose their control signals," Alice confirmed. "The robots would be free."
Servo was analyzing the tactical situation. "The command ship is the key. Shut down the wheels there, and hundreds of robots gain their freedom simultaneously."
"And then we signal them all to escape however they can," Brock added. "Commandeer ships, use their suit thrusters, fly over to our ship, whatever works. Create enough chaos that the mining company can't stop them all."
Ripper's damaged chest plating from the Open Port fight had since been fixed by Griff. "What about us? How do we escape after shutting down the wheels?"
"Just like before,” Brock said. “We blast off outta here and hide out for a while. Lay low to avoid whatever other bounty hunters the mining companies send after us.”
Infiltration Decision
The Merchant's Purse approached the command ship's docking bay, sliding into the traffic of maintenance and supply vessels.
This command ship was massive. So big a hundred Merchants Purse ships could fit inside it. Other ships were constantly flying in and out of the command ship: maintenance ships, traders negotiating with the mining company, scientists who worked on the refinery machines. Unlike other mining company operations, there were tons of real humans working here.
Alice piloted them smoothly into an open berth, the freshly painted green hull blending in with other merchant ships.
"Okay," Brock said, checking his weapons. "We go in fast, hit the Wheel Control Center, shut everything down, and get out."
"Someone should stay with the ship," Crusher suggested, his heavy frame already moving toward the cargo bay. "We need it if we want to escape."
"I don’t think so!" Leesa argued. "If we leave one person here with the ship they’re a sitting duck. If we leave more then we don’t have enough to deal with the Wheel Control Center.”
"Then what do we do?" Griff asked.
"If anything happens to the Merchants Purse, we steal another ship if we need to," Brock decided. "Come on, we're wasting time."
Griff had already suited up into one of the mech units they took from the jungle planet.
“We can’t take those Griff.” Brock said.
"What?!" Leesa looked devastated. "But they're our best weapons!"
"Look at those corridor widths," Brock pointed to the schematic on his datapad. "The mechs are too big. We'd be stuck in the first hallway. We can barely get them on and off our own ship. They’re just too big for combat on the Command Ship.”
“Fine.” Griff was already at the cargo bay ramp. "Then we go in with what we can carry. Let's move before someone notices we're not actually a supply ship."
They rushed down the ramp, weapons concealed under trading cloaks, trying to look like just another crew making a delivery. The docking bay was busy with activity, robots loading and unloading cargo, human overseers checking manifests, maintenance crews working on various systems.
Nobody stopped them as they moved deeper into the command ship.
Fighting Through Command Ship
The corridors of the command ship were quite nice. The walls were painted a warm white color and relaxing music played everywhere. The mining company workspaces were very different when real humans were involved. They'd made it two levels in before the first patrol found them.
Three human security officers rounded the corner. "This is a restricted area! Identify yourselves immediately!"
The kids froze. These weren't robots or drones. These were actual people. If they were robot drone guards they would’ve blasted them already. But they didn’t want to blast humans.
"I said identify yourselves,” the guard continued. “Where are your ID badges?”
They stood unmoving for one full second that felt like an eternity. They weren’t going to draw their weapons on these humans but how were they gonna get out of this? They thought the security crew of the Command Ship was bots and all the other workers here were human.
Luckily Poop was quick to act.
He leaped out from behind the kids, his four arms swinging his robe open as he lunged at the guards. The two guards didn’t have time to fight back as Poop knocked their heads together and they both slumped to the ground.
“Nice.” said Brock. “Good move Poop. If we’re going to encounter more human guards then we should turn down the intensity of our weapons. Let’s just knock these guys out and by the time they wake up, we’ll be gone.”
The kids and bots all opened tiny little panels on their weapons to access the intensity levels so their shots would only have knock-out power.”
Alice noticed something flashing on one of the guard's communicators there on the floor.
"Move!" Alice urged. "They triggered an alarm before going down."
The command ship's alert system activated, red lights flashing and klaxons blaring. Automated announcements urged all personnel to secure stations and report intruders.
They ran through the corridors, following the signs toward the Wheel Control Center. More security personnel appeared, and each time the kids fought with non-lethal force, leaving a trail of unconscious but living guards behind them.
"This way!" Alice called, her optical sensors processing the facility layout faster than any datapad. "Two more corridors!"
Ripper and Crusher handled most of the physical combat, their construction robot frames surprisingly effective at close quarters. Servo provided support, his maintenance tools surprisingly useful as improvised weapons. And Poop... Poop was using his four arms to great effect, whirling through the halls of the ship fighting multiple guards at once.
"Four arms is awesome!" Poop announced, simultaneously holding off two security officers while operating a control panel with his third hand and giving a thumbs up with his fourth.
They burst through a final set of doors into a large control room filled with monitoring stations and holographic displays. Banks of computers lined the walls, all focused on managing the three massive refining wheels visible through the viewport windows.
And standing in the center of the room, his gold armor gleaming under the harsh lights, was Goldstrike.
Goldstrike Confrontation
The kids skidded to a halt, weapons coming up instantly. Their robot companions spread out, forming a defensive perimeter.
Goldstrike didn't move. His blue optical sensors swept across the group with analytical precision.
"The Orphan Rebels," he said calmly, as if greeting old friends. "Right on schedule."
"You were waiting for us?" Brock demanded, trying to keep his rifle steady.
"I arrived thirty minutes ago. Your approach pattern was predictable." Goldstrike's voice carried no mockery, just statement of fact. "But plans have changed. I'm no longer interested in your bounty."
"What?" Leesa's plasma pistols didn't waver.
"I need you for something bigger." Goldstrike gestured toward the massive viewport windows.
They could see the three refining wheels in perfect detail from here, the stellarite processing creating cascades of energy across their surfaces. Ships constantly ferried raw materials in and refined product out in an endless cycle.
"That," Goldstrike said. "All of that refined stellarite. Worth more than your bounty by several orders of magnitude."
"You want to steal it?" Griff asked.
"Precisely. But I require your assistance." Goldstrike's optical sensors focused on Griff specifically. "The vault containing the processed stellarite has advanced security protocols. Biometric locks that I cannot bypass and quantum encryption that requires... creative hacking."
"So you need Griff," Brock said, understanding dawning.
"I need all of you. Your technical expertise—" he nodded to Griff, "—combined with your combat capabilities and my strategic analysis creates optimal probability of success."
"And why should we trust you?" Leesa demanded. "You've been hunting us since Open Port!"
"Perhaps I sympathize with your mission. Perhaps I seek a greater pay-day." Goldstrike spoke motionless. “Perhaps a bit of both.”
Goldstrike pulled up a holographic display showing probability calculations scrolling past faster than human eyes could follow.
"Probability of your success without my assistance: eleven percent. Probability of my success without your assistance: twenty-two percent. Combined probability: seventy-three percent."
"That's still not a reason to trust you," Brock pointed out.
"This facility processes forty million credits of refined stellarite per cycle," Goldstrike continued. "The mining colony is only paying me five hundred thousand to capture you. Comparatively insignificant. Additionally, future collaboration could prove exponentially more profitable than a single bounty collection."
He lowered his weapons systems, the integrated cannons in his forearms powering down with an audible hum.
"I am a professional. Professionals maximize profit. The logical choice is partnership, not conflict."
The kids looked at each other. This was insane. Team up with the bounty hunter who'd been chasing them? But the math made sense. And they needed to shut down those wheels to free the robots anyway.
“We free the bots and split the stellarite. Deal?” said Brock.
"Acceptable," Goldstrike replied. “The stellarite vaults are not far from this position.”
Alarms were still blaring. Security forces would be converging on their location any minute.
"Then we need to move," Brock decided. "Griff, shut down those wheels. Goldstrike... I guess you're with us now."
Working Together
The partnership was awkward and tense. Goldstrike positioned himself near the door, his enhanced sensors tracking approaching security forces. Ripper and Crusher took defensive positions while Griff rushed to the main control terminal.
"This is... actually pretty sophisticated," Griff muttered, his fingers flying across the holographic interface. "Multiple redundant systems, quantum encryption on the critical protocols..."
"Can you do it?" Brock asked, firing a stun shot at a security officer who'd made it past Goldstrike's position.
"Yeah, but it'll take a few minutes. And..." Griff's eyes widened. "Oh wow. The vault access codes are embedded in the same system. If I'm careful, I can pull those while I'm working."
Alice moved to assist him, her optical sensors interfacing directly with the computer systems. "I can help decrypt faster. Focus on the wheel shutdown protocols."
Outside the viewport, the three massive wheels continued their endless rotation, processing stellarite while space-suited robots clung to their surfaces like mechanical barnacles.
"Security forces approaching from three directions," Goldstrike reported, his voice eerily calm. "Estimated arrival: ninety seconds."
"Almost there!" Griff said. "Got the vault codes... transferring to isolated storage... and... done! Now to shut down the wheels."
His hands moved across the interface one final time, executing a command sequence that sent shutdown signals to all three wheel control systems simultaneously.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then the wheels began to slow. The crackling energy around their surfaces dimmed. The constant rotation that had defined Gamma Station's operation ground gradually to a halt. The working lights on each ring faded to black, leaving only faint blinking emergency lights flashing in the void of space.
Through the viewport, they could see the space-suited robots floating in confusion as their suits' control systems went dark. For a few seconds, nobody moved.
Then one robot removed their helmet - something the control system would never have allowed.
Then another.
Then dozens.
The robots began rocketing off toward the lines of ships, hoping to be let in.
"They're free," Alice said softly.
"Security forces arriving!" Goldstrike warned.
"Destroy the control systems!" Brock ordered. "Make sure they can't restart the wheels!"
Leesa and Griff fired into the computer banks, sending sparks and smoke billowing through the control room. Ripper and Crusher physically tore apart the main terminals, ensuring nothing could be salvaged quickly.
"Now for the stellarite vault," Goldstrike said, already moving toward the exit. "And then we leave. Fast."
The End