During combat the whole deck was decompressed, everyone wore vacsuits. It made recovering gunners from damaged turrets easier, and allowed everyone else to keep working if the hull was breached. Gunners always had a high mortality rate, but ships with sections of their hulls dedicated to rail cannons were always far more deadly, firing hundreds, sometimes thousands of projectiles per second in many different directions at once.
Stephanie had never seen a gunnery deck like the one on the Triton, and she was happy that she had no qualifications to be there when the area was used for its intended purpose. Frost will most likely be set up as the permanent gunnery Chief. I hope he supervises from the bridge. The nagging worry she had for him surprised her, and she shook it off. “All right, let's get this show on,” she called out to her team. Most of them were openly gawking at the massive space. “Start looking for the mooring points and marking off their designations on the common deck map. Also keep your eyes open for anything that isn't locked down. It doesn't matter if it's built into the deck or into the ceiling. The last thing we need is some kid finding their way into a turret and playing starfighter.”
“But they're over two meters from the decks. I can't even reach the gunnery door,” one of the newer crew members complained from behind.
Stephanie walked to one of the turrets and looked at the deck below it. The controls weren't locked, so she knelt down, pressed the ready button and moved to the side as the gunner's seat smoothly deployed from the turret. It came to rest right in front of her so she could sit down and let the turret draw her inside. “If I can do it with no training, a five year old can do it by mistake.” She said as she tapped the control on the floor with her foot. “Bridge, please lock down all local turret controls. We're live up here.”
“Oh crap! Sorry! Locking it all down now Ma'am.” Came the voice of one of the new hires through her communicator. “I'm not used to having anyone up there, sorry ma'am.” He muttered.
The next hour was long. As her small crew of ten made their way across the deck, ensuring that anything dangerous was secure, two smaller groups were checking the berth below them. There were hundreds of bunks, and it took them half an hour to secure one section with four hundred inside and she knew they had rushed the job. There wasn't much they could do about it. They were critically undermanned and again, in a position to save lives.
As they went about their work she knew there were ships filled with people looking to be rescued. The upper hull of the Triton was mostly transparent, and as the light of the distant star reflected off drifting, damaged ships she couldn't help feel the urgency of her duties press down on her. Hearing the first section of the upper berth was cleared was a relief and seeing more people join their team from the hangars fifteen or more decks below was an even greater one.
At long last it was time to start taking on passengers. “Bridge; we're ready to take on the first group. Just tell me where they're docking.”
“Dorsal mooring three. We also have someone coming through airlock twelve C. We've been talking to him a bit, he's an engineer that's agreed to sign on to help us out,” Frost said.
“That's lucky.”
“Check your command unit for his credentials, lass. We've never been this lucky.”
She did so as her team ran across the deck towards mooring three. His profile listed him as Liam Grady, Engineering Doctorate in Starship design and Engineering Doctorate in Computing. 12 years military service, recent port of call: Sol Lunar Station. “Holy hell! This guy's from Earth?”
“Not from what he was sayin', he's just coming back from retreat there. Might know something about how the ship works.”
“Did the Captain manage to snag him as permanent crew?”
“Aye, I'm sure he'll fill you in on the details. Didn't tell me much.” Frost said, sounding as though he were about to pout.
“I'm sure he didn't need you to consult on the trade, but if it makes you feel better I can always make sure you're in the room whenever Captain and I make a big decision.”
“Yer kiddin' right?”
“Yup.”
Frost chuckled. “Just when I think I'm gettin' on yer good side.”
She couldn't help but smile at the exchange as her and her team arrived below the mooring point. She looked at the pictorial directions on the deck and hoped she was reading them right as she pushed a panel open with her foot then tapped a button with her toe. A ramp extended out from the floor all the way up to the three meter wide airlock doors in the ceiling. Railings came up from the sides and after a moment it looked like the ramp had always been there.
“Wow, Earth tech is amazing. Nothing is just for one thing, every space has more than one purpose.” Liz, an energetic new hire who she had just met commented from behind her. “It makes the ship feel like it's twice it's size, as if it weren't big enough.” She was actually shorter than Stephanie, which was a hard thing to accomplish since she herself was only one hundred sixty one centimetres tall.
“They started this whole space travel thing, I'd hope they have it right by now,” another crew member commented.
“Okay, you two get to the bottom of the ramp and be ready to log ID's. Anyone without identification gets put off to the side until the end of each group. I need two more to scan for active weaponry. Take all their ammunition and keep it secure in a storage compartment, there should be a couple in the deck nearby. The rest will walk them to their berth. The teams below have been able to sweep them for explosives, weaponry, dangerous bacteria and other life, but they weren't exactly able to make the beds and sweep the floors. If anyone complains just tell them the TRF Peter will be here in two days. They can be picky about accommodations as much as they like with the rescue teams.”
Grace Templeton and two other crew members marked as medics arrived at a run, each with a full load of medical gear. “Reporting for duty, bring on the masses,” she said, leaning down on her knees and trying to catch her breath. “This place is huge.”
“Good to see you. I was just about to say something to the Captain.”
“We've been listening in on the chatter from medical. We only have three injured so far, considering the damage the Eden ships did we're lucky to have so few.”
“Have you ever done this kind of triage before?”
“Once. A trade convoy was attacked and I was sent along with a rescue vessel. This one is much better so far. Don't worry, I know what I'm doing.”
Thank God someone does. Stephanie thought to herself as she turned from Grace to look up through the transparent hull. Frost was doing a fantastic job of guiding the damaged space liner in with the tractor beams. It was four hundred meters long but thin. She had seen many of them before and knew that there could be as many as five thousand aboard. “They're not starting small,” she said to herself as she ran up the ramp leading to the mooring doors. One of her team followed and took a support position on the other side of the hatch.
The tunnel extended from the Triton and the star liner slowly drifted towards it at a pace of only a few centimetres a second. It slowed down to millimetres by the time it made contact and the mooring frame reported a full on lock with the ship.
Stephanie caught sight of a man in a vacsuit drifting towards an airlock only meters further down the hull. “Liz, go make sure he has a happy landing. I'd hate to see him come through the airlock only to free fall to the deck.”
She had one of the other team members replace her in identification duties and ran to where she thought the ramp or whatever receiving device that was provided for emergency airlocks might be and checked the instructions.
Stephanie checked the mooring lock and saw that it was still pressurizing and checking the seal.
Meanwhile, Liz had moved on to another spot on the floor, and with a satisfied nod, slid a panel to the side, pressed her foot down on a button and activated the retrieval system for the emergency airlock. It was a long, flexible tube that extended along a wire frame that came out of the floor
so whoever was coming in through the smaller emergency airlock could slide down to the deck at a reasonable speed. Liz cheered for herself, throwing her arms up before stopping and checking to see if anyone noticed. Everyone had, a few chuckled, and she shrugged in response. “Getting new technology right on the first try is worth celebrating. Even with these instructions.”
“You're telling me,” Stephanie agreed.
The lone entrant came through the smaller emergency airlock and was visible only for a moment before he slid down the yellow tube, causing it to flex and warp. Liz stepped out of the way and the much taller, broad shouldered fellow arrived at the bottom, stopped by a thick pad on the deck. He rolled to his feet slowly and stood up in front of Liz, who looked absolutely tiny compared to the large human. “Thank you very much. I'm Liam,” he shook the young woman's hand.
“I'm Liz. I think you're wanted on the bridge if I heard the chatter right.”
“Aye, thank you for the safe landing.”
“Do you want me to walk him there Stephanie?” Liz asked.
“Don't worry, I can find my way,” Liam interjected calmly.
“You've been aboard a Sol System Carrier before?” Stephanie inquired.
“No, but if my guess is right this is like any other Earth ship and it'll show me the way.” He looked at the floor. “ Triton, show me the quickest way to the bridge,” he requested.
An arrow lit up on the deck to his right. “Yup, just like any Earth ship. I'll get out of your hair and let you help these people. Thank you Liz.” He said with a short bow before jogging off towards the freight express car.
“You're welcome,” she waved after him before looking back down at the controls to the emergency airlock. “Now how do I get the tube and everything back in?” She asked herself. A few moments later she tapped another button with her foot twice and the whole yellow tube and its stopping pad retracted along with the wire frame.
Stephanie watched as the doors leading into the starliner parted and the first of the passengers appeared. “Hold there. If you have any weapons leave them aboard or check them at the bottom. We'll be taking all your ammunition so no firing will take place aboard. I'll direct you down the ramp in groups of four. Go slowly, carefully and present your identification to the officers at the bottom. We have basic accommodations for you until the TRF Peter, a rescue ship, arrives and you will be led to them as soon as possible,” she said through her amplification unit. The ones at the front found the announcement loud, and a few cringed, but she had to make sure she didn't repeat herself too much. She didn't want to lose her voice like she had the last time they performed a rescue operation.
The first groups went by without incident, a few of them taking a second or two to thank her or ask simple questions. After the first nine hundred, which was the longest stream of people she'd ever seen, a gentleman stopped and showed her a pair of pistols. “Lady, I heard your announcement, and I think we have a problem.”
“Yes?” She replied with a smile.
“I take these with me everywhere, and I don't go without ammo either.”
“You'll have to make an exception here.”
“No, you'll have to make an exception, missy.”
Stephanie simply nodded and pointed to the right of the large mooring doors. “If you'll stand right there while I let other people through so we can discuss this in a minute,” she said firmly.
He gave her a surprised look then followed directions, holstering his pistols and crossing his arms.
She let the rest of the passengers through without incident, and the fellow tried to squeeze in with the last of them. Stephanie stopped him, gently touching his shoulder. “Now let's finish our discussion.”
“You're gonna let me through with my ammo miss.”
“No, I'm not. Ship policy states that only registered crew can go armed,” there had been no such policy established, but she decided now was a good time to use her rank and make one. The guard she had brought up with her rested his hands on his rifle, slung across his stomach and chest.
“I don't know what you're trying to prove lady, but-”
“If I had anything to prove, you'd have been on your face ten minutes ago with a hole in your chest.” Stephanie stated plainly, her hand on her sidearm. The safety on her own rifle had been turned on and locked, it was slung across her back.
He stared at her for a moment, fuming, before trying to step forward again.
She put her arm out straight and stopped him with her palm. “Your ammo stays here or my scanning team won't let you through.”
“My ass they won't let me through,” he pressed again.
Stephanie jerked her pulse pistol from it's holster, aimed and fired in one smooth motion. The bolt of energy scattered across his entire body, setting his nervous system on fire momentarily, causing him to twitch violently and fall to the ramp.
In the space of three seconds she had both his weapons out of their holsters and tossed them into the cabin of the spaceliner behind him.
“I was gettin' my identification, I'm with Enreega Fed Law,” he said through clenched teeth. The pain of a mid powered stun weapon was unbelievable, and he'd be disabled for at least ten minutes longer.
“I couldn't care less, you attempted to intimidate the First Officer of this vessel, violated our code of conduct and didn't properly announce yourself. You're not welcome aboard.” She said as she rolled him back into the space liner.
“You bitch!” He managed to curse through an involuntary twitch.
“You don't know the half of it,” Stephanie laughed as she walked out of the airlock and punched the button to seal it behind her. “Frost, you're clear to release the starliner. It's empty except for one giant prick.”
“The giant prick didn't fit aboard?” Frost retorted quietly.
Stephanie's irritation evaporated and she chuckled. “He wouldn't relinquish his ammo.”
“Ah, all right, releasing the locks on the star liner. How are you for space down there?”
“We've counted eleven hundred twenty nine so far,” reported Liz from the bottom of the ramp.
There were a hand full of people left, waiting to present their identification and be scanned and Stephanie quickly counted them. “I'd say we just picked up eleven hundred forty three. That upper berthing is probably getting pretty full.”
“All right, we have one more military vessel to dock with.” Frost said. “They're coming across in emergency shuttles on our port side, and hard locking with us below. Ramirez will be escorting them in. Captain needs you on the bridge,” Frost reported.
“Has Ramirez been taking ammo?”
“Let me check for you,” Frost said.
“No, he didn't think of it,” interjected Captain Valance. “We should have.”
“Well, at least eleven hundred of them aren't-” She stopped on the ramp as she saw a two by two meter storage compartment filled with ammunition and several disposable firearms. It was like looking at a munitions pit.
“Something wrong?”
“Oh, nothing Captain, just looking at enough ammunition to fuel a small civil war. Leaves me wondering if it would have been simpler to make sure everyone was armed instead of collecting ammo. Probably would have been faster.”
“Well, hopefully the military personnel can help keep the peace for two days. From what we've heard the berths down there are pretty cramped. Twenty eight and fifty six bunks to a compartment and we haven't figured out the sound dampeners or soft isolation systems yet. It's going to be loud and cramped.”
“Well, I'll be on the bridge in a moment. I'm taking a team with me so we have security there, the rest I'll assign to keep the peace in the berth we just filled up.”
“I'll take my team back down to medical. It's a miracle there are no wounded.” Grace said as she turned to leave the gunnery deck. “Computer, show me the quickest route to the main infirmary.” She commanded. Arrows appeared to her left on the deck, just in front of her feet and
she raised an eyebrow. “What do you know, learn something new every day.”
Departure
The darkened launch bay was property of the Freeground Special Projects Team. Laura was contacted by station security as soon as someone, authorized or not, signed in. It was supposed to be sealed, both of the ships inside weren't in use any longer. They were sealed materials, working prototypes for practical research that were kept safe and undisturbed in case the systems had to be reviewed as a reference.
Laura rushed to the bay, hoping that security had been wrong about who was inside the Silkstream IV. When she arrived her fears were verified. Ayan was directing a small loader robot up the ramp into the eighteen meter long, needle shaped ship with a crate of supplies. She looked up from her arm console and stared at Laura.
She looked tired, her vacsuit was sealed up so only her face was visible and her poncho was draped over her with the hood up. “I have to go, I'm sorry Laura,” she could barely hear her say as she leaned on a white cane heavily.
Laura sealed the hatch behind her and sent the all clear signal to Freeground Station security. “They'll have your rank for this, the Special Projects Initiative will change.”
Ayan ignored every word. “No one's going to get him. No one's taking the trip out there to tell him who he is, how important he is to us, what he's done. Intelligence won't even let me send him a message. They even blocked the ones I thought I got through.”
“Regent Galactic has threatened war if Freeground lends aid.”
“That's not a problem. The Silkstream's transponder's been hooked into Minuteman. I can change it to whatever I want whenever I want. They won't know this ship is from Freeground.”
Laura crossed the docking bay at a run and followed Ayan up the ramp into the ship. “ Minuteman? That's not even finished.”
“Yes it is. I told him to finish constructing himself and he did. It took him less than five seconds to figure out how then two hours to finish building his processing cluster. I had to deactivate the Silkstream's AI, it was slowing him down.” Ayan gestured to an unassuming, gray, one meter long case inside the small hold. It was wired into the ships computer system through several panels. “The most powerful calculator is now part of the fastest ship in the galaxy. It's a match ma-” Ayan stopped and coughed, leaning on her cane.
Triton – 01 sf-3 Page 4
