What the crew didn’t know, except for Taja because she helped with the books as cargo specialist and purser, was that the Captain was accepting only about a third of his standard share each run to help keep the ship solvent. In fact, it had been over three years since the ship had actually turned a profit and more than a year since they’d even broken even. A ship the size of the Grania Estelle wasn’t cheap to maintain and run, though hopefully the engineering teams would be able to get things squared away to assist with that.
The replicators also opened up new avenues of trading. Given raw materials (and fuel) the ship could now produce finished goods for sale at the various planets and stations they would visit, potentially raising the profits. Right now they tended to trade in raw materials and low-industrial goods shipped from one planet to another. If they could now come in system somewhere and produced mid- to high-end goods that the buyers actually wanted and could use, the potential for profits was much greater. It was an exciting time aboard the big ship.
That excitement was, of course, moderated by the recent attack and then near miss at Instow. No one wanted to go through that again but they all hoped that as time went on, they could be ready for such eventualities.
Two of those unfortunate crewmen had paid off their debt, several had been killed in the attack by the raiders, but the three who remained still owed the Captain. They owed him a fair amount. Everyone was hoping that upon arrival at Folston they could get to some serious trading and could make a bit more money.
Tamara, Quesh and Ka’Xarian were sitting in the Chief’s office in the engineering spaces on day four of the trip. They were discussing what work would be done during the very long trip to Folston.
“Sadly, we can’t work on the things that we would need to get the ship there any faster,” Xar said sadly.
“No,” Tamara agreed. “Shields, hyperdrive and the reactor. And external repairs, of course.”
“Actually,” the zheen demurred. “Couldn’t we drop out of hyperspace, make a few more repairs, build a few more shield nodes and then jump back in at a higher speed?”
But both Tamara and Quesh were shaking their heads. “Materials,” they said together. They both chuckled and looked at each other, then looked back to Ka’Xarian. Quesh spoke then. “We don’t have enough of the things we need to make any more shield nodes, Xar. Otherwise I would have had a couple more made back at Instow.”
“Damn,” the zheen replied.
“Yeah,” Tamara agreed. “So… what?”
“We go through the power distribution systems again,” Quesh informed her. “Take your team and go over the entire grid. I want no leaks, no waste. We need to squeeze every drop of fuel we can out of the system.”
“What about cargo bay eight?” Xar asked. “It’s been unusable for years.”
“What about it?” Quesh asked. “We can’t get outside the ship to do proper repairs.”
“No,” the zheen admitted, “but we can seal the inside of the hull, like Tamara and her team did on those compartments when we arrived at Instow.”
“Why bay eight?” Tamara asked, taking a sip of coffee.
“Because it’s the least damaged,” the Parkani replied. He nodded. “Makes sense. Do we have the materials?”
“I think so,” Xar answered. “Should be enough to patch the inside of the bay and we can do a more comprehensive job once we get to Folston and can wrangle in a few more rocks.”
“Won’t that unbalance the load?” Tamara asked. “Can we look?”
Quesh pulled up a schematic of the ship on his display. Bay eight was located in the after section, on the ventral port side. Three other main bays were in use on that side as well. She was correct, it would unbalance the load, but they couldn’t help that now. Not until they got Folston. Not that it would matter that much now anyway, seeing as they didn’t have much in the way of cargoes that could be loaded into that bay. Perhaps they could use it for other things.
“It could, if we shift it too quickly,” he commented. “But we don’t really have any need for it for cargo space at the moment. I’m thinking we could use it for recreational purposes now. At least until we can fill it with cargo.”
She raised an eyebrow at him. “Use it in what way?”
The Parkani shrugged. “Running track. Turn the gravity off, use it for zero-g handball. In fact, I think that might be a good idea. Get some sort of team sport going since we’re going to be stuck on this crate forever.”
The other two chuckled. “I’m sure we could figure something out.”
“Good, Tamara,” Quesh said. “Because I need you and your team to go through the crew quarters on deck six.”
“Deck six?” she asked, confused. “Someone living down there?”
Both the Parkani and the zheen were smiling. Or what passed for an amused look on an insectoid face. Tamara sighed. “There’s a joke here that I’m not seeing.”
“And it’s on you,” Xar replied. “There are ten crew berthing areas down there, capable of holding up to a total of forty people. Captain said he wanted those quarters made habitable. We apparently are going to be picking up a few new crewmembers at Folston.”
“Captain’s looking to bring the crew back up to full?”
“Yes,” Quesh answered. “The full crew complement is actually about one hundred thirty. I think that the Captain would like to get us back to that number at some point. Though until we get the shields, hyperdrive, computer core and cargo bays repaired we won’t really be able to afford the extra hands.”
“I think the Captain might like cargo bay one back as well,” Xar pointed out.
“I think he would too,” Tamara replied. “But we can’t fix the boat bay in hyper. The damage is to the doors themselves. We have to physically remove them, make the repairs and then reinstall them. And they won’t fit inside the boat bay to the do the job. We’d need to do this in open space, which isn’t worth the fuel expenditure to stop and do this in real space.”
The two other engineers looked irritated at this. “Oh, well. It is something that needs working on.”
Tamara nodded, a slight smile forming on her face. “Xar, you were giving me grief about a crap job, but how would you like one?”
Now Quesh was grinning. “I can’t wait to hear this.”
The zheen was eyeing her suspiciously, his antennae rotating opposite each other. “Me either. So, what are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking,” she said, holding the coffee mug to her face, as though she was going to take another sip, “that this ship needs another shuttle.”
“It does,” Quesh replied immediately. “But we don’t have a schematic for another.”
Tamara sipped her coffee and then gave him a disgusted look. “You have no imagination. In fact, you do have schematics for another. Get the readouts from the shuttle sitting in cargo bay one. Yes, I know you’ve made a few aftermarket upgrades, but the original designs are in the shuttle’s computers.”
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.
Pursue the Past: Samair in Argos: Book 1 Page 24
