Pursue the Past: Samair in Argos: Book 1 (33 page)

              “What?” Serinda burst out.  “They can’t see us, but they’re asking for our information?”

              The Captain smiled.  “It’s what we were doing before the sensors got upgraded, Serinda,” he reminded her.  “In fact, I think we sold Folston a set of comm gear the last time we were here, what… two years ago?  Unless they’ve had a win fall like we did, I don’t see why we should expect them to have any better gear now.”

              She flushed.  “I guess I’m used to the gear we have now.  But even still.  If you can’t see who’s actually calling you, why would you answer?  Wouldn’t it be better to wait until you
can
see them?”

              “I suppose.  If they
can
actually see you anyway, I suppose it might be best to try and get as much information as you can.”  He nodded.  “Speaking of which, Serinda, tell them we mean no harm and that we’re coming in.  Give our position, but put it five degrees to port and up.  I want them to see us coming, but I don’t want them to have our exact position.  Or on the planet either, if they’ve got any designs on attacking us.”

              She smiled.  “Aye, Captain.  I’m on it.”

              On the way in, the shuttle made two separate flights, bringing in two large asteroids to break apart.  Cargo bay eight was dismantled from a lounge area back into a storage bay.  Ka’Xarian had led a team on the outside of the hull, working to seal the bay from the outer side.  A half dozen bots were skittering around the area of the hull, sealing what small microfractures and tiny breaches that they could, marking the bigger ones for the work crews to get to.  Xar and his teams, eight people in total, were tirelessly filling the holes with sealant and then welding plates over them to enclose the breaches completely.  It wasn’t a proper job, they’d have to unskin the entire section and then replace it with all new hull.  But as Tamara had said earlier, it didn’t need to be.  This was a cargo ship, not a battlecruiser.  By the time the second rock was brought in, bay eight was repaired and cleared out and the shuttle easily slipped the rock into inside where it was tethered and then cut apart for materials.  A bit of water was in this one, which helped to raise the level of water in the fuel tanks.

              By the time the
Grania Estelle
made orbit, healthy progress was being made on cargo bay seven, though they all knew it would be nearly two weeks of work at least before it was closed up enough to use.  A huge rent in the hull sliced through in a roughly diagonal direction, cutting through hull, doors, a rent three meters wide at its largest part.  They were having to plate over it, making it look like a hodgepodge of repairs; like they were making a quilt and tacking it onto the outside.  The doors were also a problem, they’d had to be removed, cut apart and then fed into the replicators for new material.  Once it was done, however, the shiny new metal clashed with the slightly corroded older material.  The new doors that were installed were “a wonder” as one of the techs said.  They were smooth and would open and close exactly as the operator wanted, something that was unusual for the sometimes sticky and cranky doors on a few of the other bays.  The other doors still worked and it wasn’t a high priority for repair, so they were left as they were. 

              The other ship,
Emilia Walker
, was a much smaller vessel than the new arrival.  Whereas the
Grania Estelle
was a bulk hauler intended to move huge amounts of cargo between the starts,
Emilia Walker
was a fast tramp freighter, meant to move quickly, with probably more high value cargoes than what the
Grania Estelle
if in much smaller amounts.  Based on the sensor scans of the smaller ship, it most likely would be able to achieve higher speeds in normal space than the lumbering bulk hauler, meaning they could be in hyperspace by the time
Grania Estelle
was a quarter of the way to the hyper limit.  Their overheads would be lower of course, less to maintain and a much smaller crew. 
Emilia Walker
probably only needed a crew of ten at the most.

              But based on further scans, it appeared that “effecting repairs” was an understatement.  Their primary engines were down, shields were down, and intermittent power spikes indicated their power grid was fluctuating as well.

              “They’re in bad shape, according to these readings,” Quesh admitted.  “It’ll take a whole whack of new parts to get them going again.”

              The Captain got a mischievous look in his eye.  “Then perhaps we might offer them
our
services.  See what kinds of fixes we can do.”

              Quesh started.  “Captain?  You want to help a competitor?”

              The Captain shrugged.  “He’s not in our league, Quesh.  Look at it.  That can carry, what maybe a hundred metric tons?  We can carry fit nearly their whole ship in bay seven.  They might get there quicker than us, but even that’s a stretch.  Once we get the other engines online, we’re going to be much better off.  Besides, if we can get them up and running, and they pay us, they might spread the word to other freighters.  And we can start a little repair business.”

              “But what about our own repairs?”

              “Keep on that,” he indicated.  “I want to be well fitted out before we leave here, but I’m willing to give two more weeks to give people time for leave, and to get repairs done.  And if possible, I’d like to be in the upper levels of yellow band.”

              Quesh smiled.  “Guess I’ll need to break out the whip.”

              He clapped the Parkani on one of his upper shoulders.  “Whatever you need to do, but please give your crews at least two days off.  I want everyone to have at least
some
time.”

              Tamara was taking a break.  She and the others had been working nonstop since their arrival in the Folston system and she had decided she wanted a few hours to herself.  Sealing the
Perdition
's cockpit around her, she started the launch sequence.  Seconds later, the main engines ignited, the electronics powered up and kicking in the repulsors, the fighter hovered off the deck.  Sending a signal through her implants, the bay depressurized and bay doors opened.

              She keyed her comms.  "Bridge, this is Moxie One.  I'm going out for a little joyride.  I'll be back in an hour."

              Tamara heard Serinda chuckle.  "If you say so Em-One.  We'll keep the light on.  Call if you need assistance."

              "Same to you, Bridge."  Ending the call, Tamara goosed the thrusters and the fighter rushed out into the void.  The cargo bay doors closed behind her; the engineering crews needed access to the bay and the shuttle.  Tamara sighed. 
I think the next priority is the boat bay.  We need to get this ship out of the cargo bay and the shuttle back where it belongs.  Besides, having a giant bay empty except for a pair of sublight craft is an awful waste of space for a cargo vessel.

              She went out to put the fighter through its paces.  She did a flyby of the other ship in orbit, the
Emilia Walker
.  It was a mess.  The
Perdition
's sensors sucked up every piece of data they could get about the other ship.  It was a breach of etiquette; it was quite rude to simply run your scanners over someone else's ship without their permission or without an emergency, but the state of the other ship's sensors, or lack thereof, made her feel better.  Based on the amount of corrosion, decay and shoddy maintenance, it was unlikely that the
Emilia Walker
would even
realize
that Tamara had scanned them.  It didn't really make her feel any better about it, but she decided it was information she was going to need.

              "
Emilia Walker
, this is Moxie One, off the
Grania Estelle
.  I'm in the starfighter off your starboard bow.  Please do not be alarmed and do not fire.  I am a friendly, out on a joyride.  If you are in need of assistance, please call.  Em-One out."             

              Predictably, they didn't respond, though she did note that
Grania Estelle
was listening in on the transmission.  Serinda didn't call her, but she suspected that the Captain would be calling her to see him once she returned to the ship.  She wasn't much looking forward to that. 

              Soaring past the tramp freighter, she continued her maneuvers.  After fifty minutes of fun, she banked and headed back to the
Grania Estelle
.   When she was within ten kilometers, the cargo bay doors opened on their own.  "
Grania Estelle
, this is Em-One.  Thanks for opening the bay.  Landing now."

              Serinda came on the comm.  "Copy that, Em-One.  Once you're in, the Captain wants to speak with you in the wardroom soonest."

              "I need to go over a few things first," she said, playing for time.  She
did
have some things to do on the fighter, routine maintenance that had to be performed, refueling, things that normally a deck crew chief aboard a carrier would take care of.  Since she was acting as her own crew chief, she had to perform these tasks herself.  It didn't bother her, in fact, she quite enjoyed the work.  She didn't think she would enjoy it so much if she was handling a landing deck with a full squadron and pilots and other officers haranguing her and her deck gang to hustle it up.  But as it was only just her and so she enjoyed it.  "Be about an hour."

              Tamara could hear Serinda's shake of the head.  "Sorry, Em-One.  He says soonest." 

              Tamara sighed.  When the Captain, any ship Captain, asked to see you "soonest" or "at your earliest convenience" that was spacer-speak for "drop what you're doing and get to the wardroom now."  "Copy that.  Landing now, securing the fighter and then I'll be on my way."

              "Understood," the other woman replied.  "I'll let him know."

              Without bothering to change, Tamara hustled through the ship to the wardroom.  She didn't run, but she definitely walked with a purpose.  Crewmen nodded to her, a few smiled; both of those she returned.  When she arrived, she found the Captain waiting for her, a mug of coffee in his hand.  She also found that Taja was seated at the table, a datapad in her hands.  She didn't look up as Tamara entered, she was engrossed in whatever it was she was working on.

              "Ah, Moxie, good.  We need to talk," the Captain said with a serious look on his face.

              Tamara took a breath.  She wasn't scared of this man, but she was apprehensive at his words.  "How can I help, Captain?"

              "Why did you contact the other ship?"  His words were dead serious.  There was no humor in his eyes.  Taja, Tamara noticed, was carefully not looking up from her datapad.

              "I believe my message was clear, Captain," Tamara answered.  "I don't know what kind of armament the ship had, or if it even functioned and I didn't want some nervous freighter-jockey taking potshots at me.  Also, I wanted them to know that I would assist if they had any problems."

              He eyed her for a very long moment.  "And that's all?"

              She plastered an innocent look on her face.  It
was
all, but he had no reason to believe that.  "What else would there be?"

              Now he sighed.  "Fine.  That wasn't really why I called you in here anyway.  I want you to take a team over to the
Emilia Walker
and do a full survey."

              Tamara blinked.  That wasn't what she'd expected.  "Are we bringing a security detachment with us?  I won't be a part of a raid."

              He chuckled.  "You will if I order you."

              Her face hardened.  "No, Captain.  I won't.  In fact, I've done more than enough work to justify the cost of my fighter.  I could get off here."

              Now
his
face hardened.  "Why do I put up with you?" he demanded.  "Fine.  No, we're not raiding the ship.  I've been in touch with their Captain and they're looking to trade."

              "And you promised my services?"

              "Actually, I haven't promised anything.  I just want you to get a team ready.  Speak with Quesh, tell him you've got my permission.  The Captain of the
Emilia Walker
is coming over here.  I'm going to give him a quick tour, he's going to be amazed and envious and
then
I'm going to be offering you and your team's services."

              Tamara nodded.  "That's fine.  Though I think you might need to give detached pay to the team.  If my scan data from my flyby is at all accurate, she's in bad shape."

              He raised an eyebrow and even Taja, who was still pretending to be completely absorbed in her datapad chuckled.  "Detached pay?  This isn't the Republic Navy, Moxie.  We're a cargo vessel."

              She shrugged.  "I tried."