Pursue the Past: Samair in Argos: Book 1 (46 page)

              “Well, the places we go will need things.  More than simply metal ores and random junk we collect in a previous system.  What if we made things using the replicators?  Fill our holds with some raw materials, go to a new planet or station and build the things they need.”             

              “And charge them appropriately for those things,” she said sardonically.

              He shrugged.  “This isn’t a charity, Moxie.  My crew and I are doing this for a living, as are you since you signed on.  You showed us and you helped us to rebuild my ship.  Why can’t we do the same in other places?”

              Tamara smiled.  “I tend to agree.  I think people will truly want certain things: shelters, plumbing, computers, ductwork, hell, aircars, mining gear, agricultural equipment, anything finished.  I think that’s an excellent idea.  But despite our experiences here, and believe me when I say, I don’t want to do that again, I think that taking a consignment or a shipment of goods scheduled to go from one place to another isn’t a bad thing.  I mean, that’s how interplanetary commerce works.  The jackholes here just tried to take advantage of a bad situation.  We just need to remember not to come back here without some sort of strong escort or maybe a convoy if we could somehow swing that.”

              “Sounds like a good idea.  We don’t usually run into too many ships, though I know there are at least a score of them in this area of Indie space, the nearby 100 or so systems.”

              “Can we walk?” she asked.  He nodded.

              “Of course.”

              “Any of those ships, have they been friendly?”  They exited the boat bay and headed down the corridor.

              He nodded.  “A few.  I haven’t met up with all of them. 
Emilia Walker
, of course.  I’m holding out hope for them,” the Captain admitted.

              “So am I,” she said.  “Any others that you meet up with?”

              “Why are you interested all of a sudden?”

              “I’m curious,” she replied.  “I’m out of my time here, Captain.  In my time, all these systems were part of the Republic and there was merchant traffic all through here.  In one hundred systems?  There used to easily be five to six ships per system.  So yes, around five to six hundred ships.  If there are twenty or so now after a serious upheaval, I think that’s pretty good.  But if we can make friends and business relationships with some of the other ships and crews, we might be able to make a difference out here.”

              “You really care about the welfare of all the people and planets out here?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

              She sighed.  “The correct answer is, ‘yes I care about all of them’ but we both know that simply isn’t true.  I wish it was.  It’s not so much about the welfare of the people, though the better off things are, the more they’re going to avail themselves of our services.  No, what I meant was that if the ships start working together, incidents like the one we just dealt with will become more rare.”

              “Something like the co-op idea?’

              “Exactly.  I don’t pretend to be an expert on that, but if we’re part of a group instead of individual ships, it might make little petty bureaucrats like Steffan and his minister there think twice about trying to cheat us.”

              “And why would that make them afraid of us?” he asked, a tiny smile on his lips.

              “Because if we are part of a big group and are bringing in goods from other worlds, if they piss us off, we’ll stop coming in here.  Now, if one ship decided to stop coming here, it might not have too big an impact.  But five?  Twelve?”

              “I see your point,” the Captain replied.

              “Well, Captain, I’d be more than happy to discuss this with you more, but I need to get a shower and a change of clothes.  And I think I need to speak with Quesh about damage repairs.”

              He nodded.  “I’ll leave you to it then.  Again, Moxie,” he said clapping her on the shoulder and making her stumble a bit, “Sorry.  But very good work out there today.”

              “Captain, I’m sorry to wake you sir, but the
Ganges
has left its docking slip and is underway on a course for us.”  George’s voice was tinged with fear.  But he was holding together.

              A cold spike of terror shot through him as he rolled off his bunk.  He was pulling on his ship suit and boots almost immediately.  His stomach was a ball of acid and his legs decided that they were going to morph into rubber.  Nonetheless, he was out of his quarters, fully dressed and hustling to the bridge in just under two minutes.

              Upon arrival to the bridge, he dropped into his chair.  “Report,” he demanded.

              “
Ganges
is underway, Captain,” George replied.  “If they maintain current speed they will intercept us a little over an hour from the hyper limit.”

              “Can we increase speed?”

              “No, Captain.  The Chief reports our engines are already at maximum.”             

              “Do you have any
good
news?” he asked.

              George paused.  “Well, we’ve managed to rebuild our shield power to full.  Well, back up to as high as we had it before the attack.”

              “That’s something anyway,” he replied.  “Are you
sure
we can’t increase acceleration?”

              “Quesh is, sir,” George answered.  “I asked him about it earlier, he said we are already running at one hundred percent on the engines.  He’s concerned that if we push them, especially for the amount of time we need to reach the hyper limit that we will burn them out.  And I don’t think we can manage without the engines.”

              The Captain sighed.  “Have they tried to speak with us?”

              Serinda, who was seated at communications, nodded.  “Yes, Captain, twice they’ve called for us to heave to.”

              “I’m getting really tired of being told to surrender,” Eamonn grumbled.  “Can’t an honest freighter Captain do business in a system without getting chased out?”

              “They’re hailing us again, Captain,” Serinda said.  “They are really insistent.”

              “Voice message?  Or video?”

              “Video, Captain.”

              “Put them on,” he ordered.

              The image on the Captain’s display appeared of a man in his late fifties, dark hair streaked with silver.  His face was lined and weathered and it was clear from the fury blazing in his eyes that he was furious with his prey.

              “This is Commander Jensen Tyler of the warship
Ganges
to
Grania Estelle
.  This is the last warning you will receive.  You will cut your engines, power down your shields and weapons and prepare to be boarded, or I fill fire upon you and disable your ship.  Respond!”

              The Captain grimaced.  “This is Vincent Eamonn, Captain of the
Grania Estelle
.  This attack on and now pursuit of my vessel have been completely unprovoked.  I am departing this system before there is any further loss of life.  We ask that you break off your pursuit.  Eamonn out.”  He nodded and Serinda cut the connection.  “I don’t suppose we can hope that the only systems they actually have functioning are engines and communications?”

              “I’d like to believe that, Captain,” George replied.  “But we still don’t have the aft scanners overhauled.  Until they close the distance, we can’t really see them.”

              He rubbed his forehead then nodded.  “All right.  Helm, cut acceleration to zero, then flip us around so the forward sensors can get a good look.”

              Everyone on the bridge was staring at him.  No one moved.

              “Now, people!” he yelled.  Startled, they all jumped and hustled to their tasks. 

              “Zero acceleration, Captain,” the helmsman called.

              “Activating sensors,” George reported.  “Damn.”

              That was the first time that Eamonn could remember the ops officer had ever used a curse word, even one as minor as ‘damn’.  But it was enough to truly get the Captain’s attention.  “What is it?”

              “We’re in trouble, Captain.  Sensors are showing active beam weapons in a dozen hard points.  We’re not in range of them yet, but as I reported before, they should be on us about an hour before the jump point.”

              “Are their shields active?”

              “Yes, Captain, they are,” George replied.  “Our cannons could shoot on those all day and we wouldn’t penetrate it.”

              “Spectacular,” the Captain drawled.  “Any suggestions?”  No one answered.  “All right, helm, turn us back around and once we’re back on course, maximum acceleration for the hyper limit.”

              “Yes, Captain.”

              Ninety minutes from the hyper limit, Eamonn gathered a few of his staff in the wardroom.  Cups of coffee had been delivered, but no one was drinking.  They all looked at each other nervously.  No one was speaking.

              “All right, people,” the Captain said, putting both palms on the tabletop.  “Anyone have any options?  Ones that don’t involve us surrendering or getting blown to pieces by the
Ganges
?”

              Quesh shrugged.  “We can’t go any faster.  I’ve triple checked everything.  If anything we need to slow down.  You’re overtaxing my engines, Captain.  We’re going to have to do some serious maintenance once we’re in Kazyanenko.”

              “Sorry, Chief,” the Captain replied sardonically.  “But I’ll make sure you get your time for repairs.”

              “Moxie, are you sure we can’t hurt them with our guns?”

              “I’m sure, Captain.  Even if the rail guns were installed, it wouldn’t do much good.  We’d have to let them get a lot closer for us to be able to hit them without giving them the ability to evade, in which case they could hit us.  And the laser cannons are even worse.”

              Taja spoke up as Tamara stopped to sip at her coffee.  “Could we drop some of the ores we’ve got out of the bays?  Aim them at the
Ganges
?”

              They all looked from Tamara to Quesh.  Both of them shrugged.  She saluted him with her coffee cup.  “It amounts to the same problem that Samair indicated before, Captain,” the Parkani answered.  “We can lob chunks of rocks at the cruiser, but they could just skip out of the way and not lose too much ground trying to catch up.  They’d have to be
really
unobservant not to be able to see tons of ore coming toward them.”

              “Would it hurt them?”

              “Of course it would,” Quesh replied.  “That amount of mass impacting the ship’s shields at these speeds?  They’d be battered down after only a few hits.  But someone would have to be asleep at the wheel in order for it to work.”

              They sat there in silence for a while longer.  Then Taja spoke up again.  “What if we give them what they want?”

              They all turned to her.  “What do you mean?  Stop and let them board?” the Captain asked.

              The tiny woman shook her head.  “No, Captain.  I mean the shipment.  The gadolinium.  Tell them we will give them the shipment if they stop chasing us.  If they agree, toss it out of the cargo bay and let them pick it up.”

              Tamara spoke up.  “What’s to stop them from just letting it float off for a little while, blasting us to pieces and then going back to pick it up?  Having the shipment on board is probably the only thing that would force them to show a little restraint.”

              The cargo specialist flushed and sat back.  “It was a bad idea.  I’m sorry.”

              “No,” Quesh replied.  “It’s a good idea, but I think it just needs a little refinement.”

              “What do we have in the way of explosives?” the Captain suddenly asked.  Both engineers grinned at the same instant, clearly thinking along the same lines he was.  “I see you both got it?”

              Tamara nodded.  “Yes, Captain, I think we do,” Quesh replied, glancing at Tamara.

              “Good.  Then here’s what I want.”

              The Captain was back on the bridge twenty minutes later, sitting in his chair, trying to project an air of calm confidence.  He was neither of those things, of course, but he was doing a decent job of fooling his bridge crew.  In ten minutes the
Grania Estelle
would be within range of the cruiser’s weapons.  The cruiser was moving in on them much like a shark chasing a whale.  The shark was determined to make a meal from its prey.  The whale might have mass, but the shark had speed and teeth.

              “The Chief reports he’s ready, Captain,” Serinda reported.

              “All right, open a channel to the
Ganges
,” he ordered.  He saw Serinda tap her console and then give him the thumbs-up.  “This is the
Grania Estelle
.  I have decided that trying to run is pointless.  I am jettisoning the gadolinium shipment off to my port side.  It is not aimed at your ship, nor is it aimed at striking anything in this system.”