“Thanks, but I need more than your name.”
He laughed. “No, that’s my ShipNet login. Pritchard. Password welcome aboard. Two words, actually, but they told me it was all right. It’s easy to remember.”
Natalya gave her head a little shake to clear it. “Yes. Yes, it’s easy to remember. Thank you, Chief. I’ll get right on that engineering thing.”
He gave her a wide smile with too many teeth showing. “Excellent. I knew Mr. Kondur wouldn’t let us down.”
“Indeed.” Natalya felt a little breathless and watched as the ersatz chief of engineering disappeared into a stateroom leaving a whiffy cloud of cologne behind him. Or mouthwash. It was hard to tell. After a moment or two while she weighed her options, she strode down the short passageway and knocked on the cabin’s door.
“What?” The captain’s voice didn’t sound any better the second time she heard it.
“It’s Regyri, Captain. Have you a moment?”
The door jerked open again and Captain Trask raised his eyebrows at her. “Well?”
“I’ve met the chief engineer.”
He barked a single laugh. “Pritchard? Now you know why I asked if you’d ever done any actual engineering.”
“He’s serious.”
“Yeah. Don’t look for any help or guidance from him. Did he give you system access?”
“He gave me his system access.”
The captain barked again. “Last name, welcome aboard. Change it when you get in there. You should have full access. If not, see Usoko to get you set up.”
“Zoya?”
The captain nodded. “She’s up on the bridge with Albee now. It’ll probably kill him to give her access but he hates doing backups more. She any good with systems?”
Natalya nodded. “Yes, Captain. She’s very good.”
“But you’re better?”
Natalya shrugged. “Maybe.”
Trask looked up and down the passageway and then leaned over to Natalya and spoke quietly. “Just between you, me, and possibly Usoko, we’ve got maybe ten people in the whole crew who know which end of the ship goes first. Me. You. Possibly Usoko. Our navigator is top notch, thank the furies. You’ll meet Charlie at dinner in the wardroom.”
“What about Mr. Albee?”
Trask shook his head. “He’ll play the part as if he knows what’s happening. He gives you or Usoko any guff, just ignore him. He’s got no real authority except the suit and his voice. We’ll be on a normal three-watch deck rotation as soon as we get underway and we won’t see him except for meals.”
“Can I ask a question, Captain?”
Trask grinned. “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t, Ms. Regyri.”
“Isn’t this—I don’t know—dangerous?”
He snorted. “Depends on what you mean by dangerous. Yeah. We got a few loose nuts aboard. The ratings aren’t all that bad. Most of them have made at least one trip before. You’ve got a couple of actual engineering crew. Pearson and Solomon are solid. The new environmental guy—Knowles—came in from Kondur’s environmental section so he knows which side of the scrubber has slime. We’ve been taking on tankage and gasses for the last two days so I’m pretty sure we got enough juice to get us to Siren and back.” He paused and gave her a sheepish look. “I’d appreciate it if you’d double-check me on that.”
Natalya stared at him.
“Yeah. I know,” he said . “You wanna bail on it?”
A whole crate of “what could go wrong” ran through Natalya’s head. Any sane person would leave this catastrophe waiting to happen far, far behind. “I need the credits.”
“You could die,” he said.
“So could you. Why are you here?”
“Because the other nine months of the year I’m a key-pressing nobody keeping a fleet of mining tenders running in and out of the belts.” He glanced up the ladder toward the bridge. “I used to do this all the time. Every day. A long time back.” He looked her square in the eyes and shook his head. “This is the only chance I have to do it again, even if only for a few weeks out of the stanyer.” He sighed. “There’s worse things than dying.”
Natalya read something in the old man’s eyes. She’d seen hints of it in her father’s eyes, stanyers past and systems away. She remembered seeing it and not knowing what it meant. “Well, let’s see about not dying anyway.”
He smiled a crooked smile that reached his sad eyes. “I like the way you think, Regyri. You run into any trouble. Need anything. Anything. You see me. Clear?”
“Clear, Skipper.”
“Good. Now go make sure we aren’t going to blow up when we light off the kickers, huh?”
“Aye, aye, sar.” She turned away as he closed the door in her face. She thought it over for a few heartbeats. Her father’s voice echoed in her head. “Don’t leave port unless you’re sure you can get back,” she said to herself and headed for the spine. First priority: check fuel, water, air, and spares.
Chapter 17
Dark Knight Station: 2363, June 7
In the aft nacelle, she found the door to the chief engineer’s office unlocked and took advantage of the console there to do a fast survey of the ship’s logistical status. She had to run a damp rag over the keyboard to get the dust off it and promised herself to give the whole office a fast swab as soon as they got underway.
The console gave her complete access to the ship’s systems using Pritchard’s credentials, so she gave herself access to only those functions required by her job and reset his password to keep him out of the system. She’d ask Zoya to set up a dummy account for him so he could have access to communications and alerts but for the moment, she didn’t trust him enough not to make an honest mistake that could kill them all.
She cross logged to her own account and checked the tankage. The tanks all showed nearly full and she thanked the captain’s forethought in getting those taken care of. A quick survey of the spares inventory showed it to be complete, but she slaved her tablet to the console and made a fast trip to the spares storage to spot-check things like scrubber and potable water filters. They’d be underway six weeks before docking again; that was plenty of time for them to suffocate in their own emissions.
Coming out of the spares closet, she ran into one of the crew trying to enter.
“Sorry,” she said, nearly bouncing off him. “Didn’t realize anybody else was around.” She had to look up rather a long way to find his smiling face.
“You’re Regyri, right?” he asked.
“I am. You are?”
He held out a hand. “Paul Knowles. I pass for a spec-one environmental. I take it you’re the real engineering chief?”
She took the hand and grinned. “Actually just an engineering third officer, but apparently I’ll be doing double duty.”
“Mr. Pritchard means well. He won’t give you any trouble.”
“You sound like you’ve done this before?”
“My second trip. First one was a bit hairy, but I got used to living in terror. Mr. Kondur promised we’d have a real engineer in the crew this time.”
“The captain said you work in station environmental?”
“Yeah. Huge operation compared to here. Everything’s so compact.” He looked down the length of the engine room. “This whole thing would fit in one of my precipitation tanks.”
“You know how to work it?”
He grinned down at her. “Oh, yeah. Masters in environmental systems from New Farnouk. Grew up on slime. My parents ran the environmental section over at High Tortuga and I came to work for Mr. Kondur—must be ten, twelve stanyers now.”
“You know any of the rest of the crew?”
“You met the skipper. Albee is a bit of a pompous twerp but he stands his watches. Second mate, Charlie Blanchard. Great guy. He’ll be the one you go to if you can’t get to the captain.”
“Good to know.”
“I don’t know much about the power and propulsion people but Val wears spec-three environmental
tabs. She’s good people. Works for me on the station most of the year. You’ll meet her when we get underway. She’s in port until morning finishing up a few tasks for me.”
“Watch standers?”
“A couple of enginemen and wipers. I don’t know them but they showed up on my roster.”
“Speaking of which, do we have watch schedules?”
He snorted. “Did you make any?”
“No.”
“There’s your answer. Roster’s on the system, but we aren’t much for watch standing. Have you logged in yet?”
“Barely. I’ve only been aboard a couple of stans and it feels like much longer.”
“Well, Environmental Section is ready to sail. I was just double-checking the spares status.”
“Yeah. Me, too.”
“Well, Ms. Regyri. You’ll be my boss for the next twelve weeks or so. I look forward to working with you.”
She smiled. “Thanks. I’m beginning to feel a little better about the whole thing.”
“Are you supposed to confess that to crew?” His eyes twinkled.
“Probably not, but we’re all in the same boat here. Literally.”
“Amen to that.”
“Let me know if you spot anything problematic. I don’t know what I can do about it, but at least I can take it to the captain.”
“Of course, sar.” He grimaced. “Sar? It’s really sar?”
“So they tell me. Don’t get hung up on it. My ego’s not so fragile I need to assert my authority every time you speak to me.”
“Thanks. I’m not really a spacer.”
“You’ll get the hang of it.” She sighed. “I better go find the rosters and cobble up a watch rotation.”
“Good luck with that. Charlie might have some insight there. He’s been doing this awhile now.” He checked his tablet. “It’s almost 1700 already. He should be back aboard by now. You might find him on the mess deck.”
“Mess deck? Not the wardroom?”
“He’s a people person. No people in the wardroom this time of day.”
Natalya nodded. “Thanks for the tip.”
“Any time. I should probably get cleaned up for dinner. See you around the engine room.” He turned away from the spares closet and climbed up the ladder heading to the spine.
She watched him go and turned back to the engine room. It wasn’t in terrible condition, at least not to the eye. She wandered around the machinery. The covers all seemed to be in place. The decks had more dirt that she’d have liked but she didn’t see any obvious hazards. The big Burleson drives—one on either side of the bay—dominated the space, their dark green cases gleaming in the overheads. On a hunch she crossed to the nearer unit and pulled up the diagnostic interface on it. She’d need these beasts tomorrow, but she’d rest easier knowing they would work when called on. Since that wasn’t an option, she settled for overnight testing. With a few clicks, she triggered a diagnostic routine that would run through the night. In the morning, she’d have her answer. She crossed the wide space to the second drive and started the same diagnostic.
Satisfied, she climbed the ladder to the office and killed the overheads. Safety lighting came on, casting the whole engine room in a ruddy glow. She headed down the spine toward her stateroom and a shower. She’d done what she knew to do, and hoped it would be enough.
Chapter 18
Dark Knight Station: 2363, June 7
Natalya found Zoya in her stateroom. “What’s the uniform of the day? Do you know?”
“Apparently it’s that god-awful musical-theater maroon and gold.” Zoya pulled a set of undress khakis from her trunk. “I’m going with this and hoping I don’t get blinded by the splendor that is the amazingly horrible Maroon Avenger.”
“Since I don’t have a set of maroon shipsuits, I’ll have to go with undress khakis, too.” Natalya paused at the door to the head. “You know this is madness, right?”
“Which part?” Zoya asked, looking up from her trunk. “The part where we’re getting underway without enough crew? Or the part that we’re going to try to sneak this ship into a Confederation port?”
“The part where at least some of the officers are only playing the part of actual skilled officers and don’t really understand what’s happening.”
“Wait. The officers? I had my doubts about the crew but the officers? Do any of them know what they’re doing?”
“I don’t really know. I’m pretty sure the skipper is on the up and up. At least was at one point. He misses it so he puts on the captain’s hat once a stanyer.”
“He seems nice enough, if a bit grumpy.” She sighed and looked up at the overhead. “I’m not sure about Albee. He seems like he has something of a handle on it, but other than barking about the backups, he didn’t seem overly concerned with basic things like food and fuel for the trip.”
“I checked the tankage. We’ve got enough fuel, water, and air. They’re topped off. I’m running a high-level diagnostic on the Burlesons overnight. I’ll know in the morning if they’re more likely to bend space or break the ship.”
“That would be good to know,” Zoya said. “I thought there was a chief engineer.”
“We have someone in a chief engineer’s uniform who is flat-out enjoying the role of chief engineer but who is quite delighted to have an actual engineering officer aboard for this trip.”
Zoya’s jaw dropped.
“Yes. Chief Pritchard isn’t actually an engineering officer. Mr. Albee isn’t actually a first mate. They’re just playing the roles.”
“How did you find this out?”
“I had a short chat with Captain Trask and another with an environmental expert wearing a spec-one disguise.”
“What the—?”
“This is apparently their normal mode of operation. The second mate is apparently a good guy who actually knows astronavigation and can plot a course. You’re the third mate and you’re more qualified than the first.”
“What’re you going to do in engineering?”
“I’ve already usurped control of engineering systems. Which reminds me. I need you to give Mr. Pritchard guest access to ShipNet so he can get messages and use the entertainment system.”
“You what?” Zoya’s eyes practically bugged out of their sockets.
“He had full system access to the operational controls for the entire ship. He had everything in the engine room along with personnel jackets. He even had access to the helm and bridge controls.”
Zoya lowered herself to her bunk and stared at the deck. “Mercy Maude.”
Natalya watched her for a few ticks. “If it’s any consolation, most of the crew apparently knows what they’re doing.”
Zoya chuckled. “That would explain Helms’s apparent disrespect for everybody in a management role. Why are they doing this?”
“No idea. Something to do with the smuggling operation maybe?”
“You’d think they’d want the ship to get there and back again all in one piece.”
Natalya nodded. “I was thinking about that. In reality? What’s the downside for Kondur and company if the ship doesn’t make it?”
“What do you mean, downside? He’s out a ship and crew.”
“The ship, maybe. Crew?” Natalya sighed. “Honestly, I’m not sure he’s too concerned about losing this crew. Might be he’s done this before and lost ships. Are these the only people desperate enough to take the trip?”
“I don’t know that I’m that desperate,” Zoya said.
Natalya sat on the bunk beside her. “I am.”
Zoya turned her head to stare.
“I am,” Natalya said again. “I need to get the Peregrine repaired and this trip can make it happen.”
“We have to make it back first.”
Natalya glanced at Zoya out of the corners of her eyes. “I was thinking about that.”
“Thinking what? I’m thinking we need to grab our trunks and run.” Zoya’s face had grown pale.
“Assu
ming the ship is in reasonable repair, what are the chances we won’t make it back?”
“Given the state of the crew? What makes you think it’s in reasonable repair?”
“The engine room doesn’t show any sign of neglect. The systems records looked adequate if not top shelf. You remember that summer cruise from hell?”
“Yeah. Bunk bunnies and crap food.”
“That engine room was a shambles. In retrospect I’m surprised the orbital allowed it to dock, let alone the academy approving it for summer cruise.”
“What’s your point?”
“Barbells are pretty forgiving. Redundant systems. Solid navigation. Over-engineered environmentals. There’s a reason they’re called bricks. Beyond the shape.”
Zoya pursed her lips and her gaze focused elsewhere. “Having one can makes for fewer moving parts and adds a huge amount of stability.”
“She’s got kickers and massive sail generators. You can take a Barbell anywhere.”
“What are you saying?” Zoya asked.
“I’m saying we can do this.”
Zoya caught her bottom lip between her teeth and squinted at Natalya. “Seriously? You’re suggesting we set sail in this deathtrap?”
“That’s the thing,” Natalya said, turning to face Zoya. “The ship looks like it’s actually decent. The crew? Maybe not so much. If we can keep them from killing us, the ship should make it.”
“You’re out of your mind.”
“You’ve known that for at least a couple of weeks now.”
“We’d be violating I don’t know how many regs.”
Natalya grinned. “Not out here, we’re not. When we get to Siren? Yeah. Regs will be the last things we’re going to worry about.”
Zoya’s head shook back and forth. “No, I suppose not getting arrested on a trumped-up murder charge will matter more.”
“Or not getting caught with an illegal can of ore.”
Zoya snorted. “I suppose, on balance, having fewer than the regulation numbers of crew in appropriate ratings falls a bit short on that score.”
“You’ll do it?” Natalya asked. “I can’t ask you to but we’ve come this far.”
Milk Run (Smuggler's Tales From The Golden Age Of The Solar Clipper Book 1) Page 13
