Pursue the Past: Samair in Argos: Book 1 (30 page)

              Both of the males were looking interested now.  They exchanged glances.  “All right, Xar, get on that.  Take your team and get started.  I want full schematics first.  No building and no replicator time until that is done.  We, all three, will examine them before any building gets done, understand?”

              “Got it Chief,” the zheen replied. 

              “All right, let’s get to it.”

              The two other engineers hadn’t been joking about the other berths.  The area was absolutely filthy, a centimeter of grime on every surface.  The walls, even the ceilings were covered in dirt.  The mattresses were stained and stunk.  The whole area had been sealed off, to contain the smell.  Tamara and her team had arrived with all sorts of cleaning supplies, buckets, sponges, mops, everything.  To help, she also had a trio of cleaning bots hovering along with them. 

              The entire group gagged as the hatch to the first area unsealed and the smell came out.  “That is awful!” was about the nicest comment that was made in Tamara’s group.  Tying washrags around their mouths and noses, they soldiered on. 

              It took about two hours with all of them working to get two of the berths cleaned out.  The machines had to be emptied twice, but they finally managed to make them livable.  All of them agreed the mattresses needed replacing, though they were clean now, so they were dragged out into the corridors to be broken down and replaced in the replicators.  After that time, though, those two rooms were immaculate.  The metal on the bunks gleamed, the walls were scrubbed, the floors had the years of grit removed, all the fixtures were repaired and functional, the refreshers were all cleaned out and ready for use.  The whole place had the pungent odor of industrial strength chemicals, but it was far preferable to what had previously been here.

              Over the next day, the remaining rooms were cleaned, their mattresses all brought to the replicators for breakdown and replacement.  Once this was all completed, Tamara and her team collapsed onto the bunks in one of the rooms. 

              “Well, that took forever,” Pip grumbled, gulping water from a canteen he’d brought. 

              “I can’t believe there’s so much unused space,” Igraine commented from where she was sprawled on the bunk next to Rory.  “It seems as though there’s all this area that I never knew about.”

              The others chuckled.  “You’ve only been aboard less than two weeks,” Mairi pointed out.  “I’ve been on for almost three years and I don’t think I’ve been down this way more than twice.  And the second time was on a dare.  Smelled better then, I will say.”

              “So what’s with all this extra crew space, anyway?” Tamara asked.  “No one’s ever been down here?”

              The three experienced crewmen shook their heads.  “Not on purpose anyway,” Pip replied.  “The Captain sort of sealed this area off about, what, ten years ago, Rory?”

              The older man nodded, drinking from a water bottle.  “About that.  The crew shrank after bays six and eight were breached and we couldn’t fix it.  There was simply less cargo to carry and less profits to be had.  So the Captain had to release about forty or so people from their contracts.  They weren’t too happy being left on a farm planet, but what was he to do?  He couldn’t pay them anymore and we couldn’t fix the holds.”

              “And by that time, this area of crew berths had gotten pretty wild and rowdy.  The Captain had his hands full trying to keep this tub going and couldn’t be bothered with what was going on down here.  After those crewmen left, instead of having us fix them all up, we just picked up the trash and sealed them up.  We turned off the power and the life support to economize and I don’t think many people have actually been down here at all since then.”  He rubbed the back of his head.  Then he gave a quick smile that turned to a grimace.  “Though I think that there were more than a few clandestine relations going on down here, if you must know.”  He was carefully not looking at any of them in the eye.”

              “Oh, really?” Mairi asked, smirking.  “You pervert!  I’ll bet you were down here more than a time or two.”

              His face changed to a closed, but smug mask.  “I certainly don’t know to what you are referring, you scurrilous liar.”

              She grinned and patted him on the shoulder.

              Tamara smiled and rolled her eyes.

              While the cleaning and outright sterilization of crew berthing was going on, Quesh and two of his teams were in EVA suits, working diligently to patch the large holes in bay eight.  It was a slow process, as not everyone was fully up to speed on how to move around in suits.  It took a lot of practice and the Parkani demanded that everyone go slower and take their time.  He warned everyone that he wanted no accidents, no injuries.  And, shockingly, there were none.  Once the job was finished, one of the young new recruits tripped over the knee-knocker at the bottom of the hatch, bashing his shin painfully and tearing his suit.  The others mocked him mercilessly, of course, and even Quesh gave him a light cuff to the back of the head.  Though he did praise the klutz in the end.  “He did follow orders.  The job’s over.  He managed to get through the entire job before hurting himself.  That’s very good.  Now, you klutz, get down to the doctor and get treated.”

              Time continued its petty pace.  Small repairs were made, accessible rooms were cleaned and made ready.  Cargo bay eight was turned into a recreational zone, with a running track around the outer edge.  Three tiers of platforms were attached to the inner side of the bay, and replicated workout equipment, deck chairs, small vid screens, even tables for games.  Cookie decided that, although the mess hall was his domain, he welcomed the idea that people could congregate in this other space as well.  It was certainly bigger and outfitted for more personnel.  Though he made sure that everyone knew that the mess hall was still a place that they could come to relax.  And also, that the cargo bay would be reverting to its primary function once the ship reached its destination on this trip.

              Shifts went by; the ship continued on course.  Another meeting of the heads of engineering, the three this time, however, were meeting in the crew lounge.  The table before them held food, drinks, and datapads.  They had been making small talk for over an hour, and the cold that existed between the Parkani and the human seemed to be thawing.  They might not ever love one another, but it seemed as though the weeks of working together was making a difference.  Ka’Xarian was feasting on a plate of freeze dried kasha beetles.  The other two gave mild looks of distaste, but he ignored them, his antennae flicking in amusement at their discomfort.  The other two were making do with fruits, vegetables and yet another fish dish.  Cookie was a talented chef and so far didn‘t have any complaints, but after a month and a half into the trip, it was inevitable that people would start wishing for some more variety.

              Parkani metabolism was very similar to human, so Quesh was able to eat the same foods as Tamara, though he couldn’t digest some things like lamb or coconut.  Cookie didn’t normally stock those things; natural ingredients like that were expensive.  That and he didn’t want to accidentally poison the ship’s chief engineer by adding something that he couldn’t metabolize into one of his stews.  He and Tamara were each partaking of some smoked fish with a salad, and each of them enjoying a cup of the fine Instow ale.

              “Could we build more shield nodes?” Ka’Xarian asked, as his mouthparts gnashed and masticated a particularly fat beetle.

              Tamara nodded, taking a swig of beer to wash down the bite of fish.  “Sure.  But we’ve talked about this.  The biggest problem is we don’t have the materials to build another.  Not enough for even one.”

              The Parkani slurped a bite of food.  “What could we afford to sacrifice to make more?”

              “That’s the question, isn’t it?” she replied.  Sighing, she considered the question.  “Well, my fighter.  There are probably enough materials in it to make one.  The shuttle.  We could probably get two out of that.  Three nodes?”  She twisted her mouth.  “That would most likely get us to nearly thirty percent shield coverage.  At that amount of shield strength, we could make red level seven, possibly even break into orange level one.”

              The other two exchanged looks, ones that indicated they were very for this idea.

              She smiled.  “The problem with this is if we cannibalize the shuttle, we could get to Folston a great deal faster.  However, once we’re there, we will have no way to wrangle any more asteroids from the local belt.  We’d be forced to deal with the locals for anything we get.  We’d have to barter for materials from the surface of the planet.  Honestly, this isn’t a great option in my opinion.”

              The sour looks she was getting indicated that they didn’t agree. 

              “Think of it this way, boys,” she said, taking another swig of beer.  “Once we get there, if we’ve got no shuttle, then we’ve got no way of shipping goods and people up and down from the planet.”  That seemed to get through to them.  “We would need to find another way to get the parts and materials we need to make more of the nodes.”

              “What about the escape pod?” Quesh asked.  The other two stared at him.  “We could probably get a whole node out of that.”

              Tamara nodded slowly.  “Now that the people aren’t in it anymore, it isn’t very useful.  And I don’t think that anyone else will ever want to get inside after that.”

              Quesh shuddered at the thought.  “I know
I
certainly wouldn’t.  I’ll take my chances on the ship thank you very much.”

              “Yeah, I think using the pod is a great idea.  We’d have to clear it with the Captain, first of all, but yes, I like that idea.”

              “And your fighter?” Ka’Xarian pressed.

              She grinned but shook her head.  “Nice try.  That’s
my
property.  And I understand that we could probably build another one, but it wouldn’t be the same.  This one is vintage, if a bit restored.  Me using the replicators to completely build another one just wouldn’t be the same.  We’re going to have to look elsewhere, boys.”

              “Actually, Moxie,” a voice came from over her shoulder, “it’s
my
property.”

              “You’re going to welch on our deal, Captain?” she said, without turning.  She calmly picked up her beer cup and took another drink.  “Because I’ve been holding up my end.”

              The Captain came around the table, his own cup in his hand and taking another chair, sat down next to Ka’Xarian, who obligingly scooted his chair over to make room.  “I can confiscate it, Moxie,” he told her, a small smile on his lips.  “I would be perfectly within my rights to do so as Captain.”

              She nodded.  “That’s right.  But it would piss me off that the Captain would go back on his word in a state of non-emergency, like the one we are in now.  There might be other ways to accomplish our goals without stealing my fighter.”

              “I’d love to hear them,” he said, taking a sip from his cup.  “Please, enlighten me.”

              Tamara could feel herself getting angry.  Once again, someone in authority was going to take the easy way out at her expense.  Once again, she’d somehow managed to get maneuvered into a position where this was going to happen to her.  And while her anger was certainly directed mostly at the Captain, she was holding a good portion of it back for herself.  She had
let
herself get manipulated.

              “Well, all right.”  She set the cup down, faced them all as a group, since it was clear that the three of them were ganging up on her.  “There are a number of computer consoles that aren’t in use that we can use for this plan.  I saw a number of knick-knacks in cargo bay three that we can salvage.  The boat bay, even though it’s breached, I know there are some spare parts in there that we can use.  I’d have to get a full listing of everything, but there should be enough with all that for another shield node.”

              The Captain looked at her without speaking for a few long moments.  “I want you to make this work, Moxie.  Quesh, you too.  I am not willing to spend another three and a half months in hyperspace.”  He slugged the rest of his drink, sighed, stood and left, leaving the cup on their table.

              “So, I guess you’re going to go on that scavenger hunt you just mentioned, Samair,” Quesh said, slurping up some more fish.

              Tamara shook her head.  “I guess I am.  But I am
not
giving up my ship, Quesh.  And you two are not taking it.  We
will
make this work with what other things we can find.”  She glared at the two of them. 

              They only laughed at her.

              As it turned out, Tamara found enough parts to feed the replicator to make
two
shield nodes, in addition to the one that the escape pod could build.  She took no end of pleasure rubbing this in the males’ faces, though the Captain held back a smirk.   When Tamara called him on this, he threw back his head and roared in laughter. 

              “What is so funny?” she demanded.