Salvage Title

by Kevin Steverson

  “Well, Clip,” Harmon said, “we’re going to need you to get on the net and see what you can find out about Yarkle’s ship. I know it’s an old ore hauler made in the Yvent system. Yarkle converted it to haul scrap instead of ore. It seemed to handle pretty well when I watched it land the last time it brought down a load. I have no idea what it is capable of out of the atmosphere. Speaking of which, make sure you check the schematics on its environmental systems. Yarkle breaths air like we do, but it may be tweaked to more of what its home world ratio has. It’s already going to smell like a squat beetle, I can tell you.” Yarkle was a Wend, a race that resembled a six-foot-tall beetle standing upright on its back two legs.

  Clip stopped what he was doing and sat down with his slate, his fingers flying across it. He was curious to know what type of computer system the ship had, what he needed to modify, or if he needed to reprogram the entire system. “I’m on it,” he said, already lost in reading.

  “You’re going to have to change out the seats in the ship,” Rinto added. “I wouldn’t doubt that Yarkle had them swapped out or modified to fit itself. It has a crew of four Leethog on the ship, so you may want to think about modifying the crew’s quarters too. You know they sleep in those hammock things up in the corner of their rooms.” A Leethog was a race of marsupial-analogue beings, who preferred the lighting to be dim but were generally great workers.

  “We may want to conssider keeping them ass crew,” Zerith said. “I can modify or change the sseatss on the operationss deck with no problem. I will locate ssome thingss,” he added, pulling out his slate.

  There was a lot of planning to do before the Wend came back into their system. Rinto put a private message on the net so it would reach Yarkle if it was within a gated system. It wasn’t cheap, but it was necessary so the guys could get the ship and leave the system before the fleet tried some other plan to get Harmon’s mech.

  Over the next two weeks, Zerith located several pieces of equipment for the operations center and quarters of the ship. From what he and Clip could tell, the ship’s design was one that could be reconfigured for many different races to fly. The Yvent was a race that seldom ventured out of its own system but did a booming business in small to medium-size shipbuilding. Many working-class ships came from there, as the Yvent built them to last.

  Two of the seats came from Rinto’s warehouse. He maintained a warehouse at the scrapyard where he sold used parts. Sometimes it was panels, other times, it was a door or a seal. His inventory changed all the time, and there was never an inventory sheet. Beings just came in and browsed. It wasn’t really a money maker, but Rinto just couldn’t see melting down salvageable parts. It also gave him something to do while his employees worked out in the heat of the yard and in the melting factory.

  He was surprised when Zerith walked in, went straight to the back, and moved something to take a look at some seats. He didn’t bother to ask how Zerith knew right where to find them; Zerith had ways of acquiring things through his network of family and friends that boggled his mind. Rinto wouldn’t let him pay for the seats.

  Harmon spent some time looking at the ship’s layout. The schematics of that model had been easy for Clip to download, although Harmon didn’t ask whether it was something readily available to everyone, or if Clip had hacked into the shipbuilding company’s internal network. He needed to talk to Clip and Zerith first, but he thought he figured out how to put in an arms room and a ready room for the mech in the main bay of the ship. It would come in handy on salvage jobs where there was no atmosphere. He decided to ask if they could rig a laser on the left arm to cut pieces of salvaged ships down to manageable sizes.

  Clip studied the type of computer and programming that normally came in that type of ship. The basic programming was fine for what they intended, but he saw where he could upgrade the system and make the ship more responsive. One of the things he decided to do was program some defensive and offensive systems and wire them into the main system. They would need a decent shield. It would never be military grade, but it was better than the original equipment. Some of the weapons they found could be broken down and rebuilt into two quad lasers. It would use eight of the rifles, but once they were wired into the ship as a power source, they would make nice weapons to deal with any piracy issues, unless the pirates came with a big ship. He also decided to reprogram the food dispenser as soon as they got onboard, because…yuck.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Eight

  Two weeks after Rinto sent the message to Yarkle, it landed its ship on the pad at the scrapyard. Yarkle explained to Rinto that it had just finished loading its ship when it received the message, and it was very pleased Rinto wished to purchase the ship. It planned to buy a home on Joth and live the rest of its life without having to work. Rinto knew this wouldn’t be a problem, as Yarkle had always seemed to do very well for itself. What surprised Rinto was when Yarkle told him that it wanted to live quietly for the next thirty years. Thirty years left, and it felt it was nearing the end of its life cycle. Some beings.

  Harmon, Clip, and Zerith walked up into the main holding bay of the hauler. The ship was seventy meters long and twenty meters wide, of which the majority was the 18,000-cubic-meter holding bay. It had doors on both sides that opened up wing-style. Both sides were open now as employees of Rinto’s finished unloading the scrap. There was also a smaller bay beside the large one on the port side. It had a five-meter-wide door on it and extended fifteen meters deep. It was there that Harmon wanted the armory and the ready room for the mech.

  The last fifteen meters of the ship held the small fusion plant, the engines, and the thrusters. The fusion plant itself was deep inside several armored radiation barriers, where it would take a direct hit by something really big to destroy it. Civilian working ships were not protected as much as military ships, but there were layers of protection involved because of pirates, which was a very real problem in some systems.

  They were standing in the empty bay when Yarkle walked in with Rinto. Yarkle spoke to them through its translator. “Rinto tells me you will be operating the ship. That is good. It is a fine ship with many years left in its power plant. Will you need a crew? Myself have had the crew of this ship with myself for eight of your years now. They are very reliable and very good technicians. If you do not require their services, myself will see that they receive transport back to their system.” Referring to itself just never seemed to translate right with a Yarkle.

  Harmon, Clip, and Zerith had talked about this several times. If the crew members wanted to stay on, they would hire them and observe them to see if they would work out. The Leethog were familiar with the ship and could be an asset.

  “We would be happy to take them, if they will stay,” Harmon told him.

  “Excellent, myself will call them now,” Yarkle said, waving its upper arms in emphasis. It made the call, said goodbye, and ambled off the ship.

  When the Leethog crew came out into the bay from the operations side, they appeared nervous. They were a little over four feet tall and looked similar to opossums. There were some at the Earth zoo on Tretra that Harmon had seen on a long weekend with Evelyn. They were mostly grey, covered in white-tipped fur, with long tails. They walked upright and had three fingers and an opposable thumb on each hand. Their faces were elongated with a mouth full of sharp teeth, a pointy nose, and whiskers. Though they were nervous at meeting the new ship owners, Harmon could see they were very intelligent. It showed in their eyes when they weren’t squinting and blinking in the bright daylight shining in both doors.

  “Hello,” the largest of them said through the translator. The actual sound coming from its mouth was a growling hiss. “Yarkle said you would like to speak to us.” The three Leethog behind it all nodded. “I am Hanktilmotal, this is my brother Stantilmotal, his mate Veratiloolog, and my mate Kylatilaarnot,” he added, pointing in turn behind him to the crew members. Even with the translator, the Leethog spoke fast.

  “Pleased to
meet you. I am Harmon Tomeral,” Harmon said, then he introduced Clip and Zerith.

  “Which of you maintain the power plant?” Zerith asked.

  All of the Leethog’s ears turned and faced forward at the same time when Zerith spoke. Both of the female Leethog raised their hands. “We do,” said Veratiloolog. “Our mates work in the holding area and go outside the ship when necessary, and we maintain the power plant.”

  “We can make minor repairs if necessary. For things we cannot do, the ship has to go to repair stations,” Stantilmotal added.

  “Well, I can help with the programming and some electrical, and Zerith can fix almost anything. We might not have to make very many trips to repair stations, now,” Clip said, putting his hand on his friend’s shoulder.

  “We will call you Hank, Sstan, Vera, and Kyla. Humanss like to sshorten namess,” Zerith told the crew, almost like it was a conspiracy. The Leethog all nodded, as if he had imparted great wisdom upon them.

  “Wait. Your friend said we. Am I to take it you would like to keep us employed as crew? We would very much like to stay with the ship. We have been discussing this since we came through the gate and made the trip in the system to Joth. Will we receive the same offer that Yarkle has given us these past years?” Hank asked.

  “Well,” Harmon said. The three of them hadn’t really talked about that. “That depends. What did you receive under the contract you had with Yarkle?”

  Hank stood straight and as tall as he could without going up on his toes. “We received a place to live on this ship, were not required to pay for food, and we each received 100 credits every seven days,” he said, as if they had struck a hard bargain. It appeared he intended to maintain that level of pay, at a minimum.

  Clip and Zerith looked at each other and then looked at Harmon. Harmon could not believe what he had just heard. No wonder Yarkle had plenty of savings to live off of.

  “That no good Wend!” Rinto exclaimed. “He is going to get an earful from me, or whatever he uses for ears, you can bet on that.” He stomped out of the ship. The deal had already been made, and the credits were transferred, so he didn’t care if he offended the Wend or not.

  Harmon shook his head. “How about this: a place to live, free food, and…one percent of the ship’s profit,” he said, and looked over at his buddies. They both nodded.

  “One percent!” Hank exclaimed, clearly excited, as his whiskers quivered. “That is a quarter of a percentage for each of us. Yes! We will take that contract.” The others nodded their heads repeatedly behind him.

  Harmon smiled and shook his head. “I don’t think you understood me. I meant one percent for each of you.”

  Four mouths hung open, and there were teeth everywhere. All at once, all four began talking, and it overloaded the translator. Growls, hisses, and the occasional whistle came across. They couldn’t believe what they were hearing.

  Zerith pulled a large purple fruit out of a pouch and began peeling it. Without thinking about it, he offered a couple of slices to each Leethog. Harmon took a slice and Clip declined. The crew members took it graciously, sniffed it, and ate it. They ate slowly at first, and then they gobbled it down, exclaiming how good it was—that it was fresh, and not from the replicator. Hank looked at Zerith said, “Thank you. Yarkle never provided us with fresh fruit.”

  “All right, little oness. Sshow me the power plant,” he said and turned toward the back of the ship.

  Both Kyla and Vera looked at each other and grinned, showing every sharp tooth in their mouths. They followed after Zerith as he headed through the hatch, hissing and growling to each other.

  Clip looked at Harmon. “Those smiles could be a little intimidating if you didn’t know they were smiles,” he said. He pulled out his slate and headed toward the operations center up front.

  “Hank and Stan. I’ll be working with you here in the bay and out in space when we need to. I will also go into any hulls we find with you. We are going to haul scrap and make credits, my friends,” Harmon told the remaining crew members.

  “Umm, do you have a spacesuit? The suits on this ship are small like us. Yarkle did not venture into space. He stayed in the operations center most of the time, and we did the work,” Stan stated.

  Harmon sighed and shook his head. He motioned for them to follow him, and they started to move equipment from the hauler over into the ship.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Nine

  Two weeks later, Harmon piloted the ship off-planet and locked in a course for a region of space near the last planet in the system. It would take eight days to reach it without taxing the power plant and engines. There was an asteroid field orbiting the planet Malita. Interspersed within that field were the remains of the war two hundred years prior. It had mostly been picked clean, but Harmon had a plan that even Clip thought was genius.

  They had spent weeks on the ground changing the ship to their liking. They swapped the seats in the operations center. They replaced everything in Yarkle’s living quarters; none of it had been suitable for humanoid living. The quarters were so large, they set up three bunks in it so they didn’t have to displace the crew members. The Leethog occupied the other two, much smaller, berths.

  Clip added extensive computing power to the ship’s systems and spent a week programming them. Harmon, Zerith, and the crew spent that time setting up the weapons vault and ready room for the mech. Zerith had also been able to mount a cutting laser on the arm of the mech.

  When they loaded all of the weapons and grenades, Hank just scratched his chin, shrugged his shoulders, and went back to loading it. Zerith took eight of the rifles and went to work in the main hold, creating turret weapons that could be mounted on the outside of the ship. There was plenty of scrap material to use at Rinto’s.

  “Do you think we will need to defend the ship?” Hank asked Harmon.

  “We might. If word gets out we made a good haul, there are pirates out there who will swoop in and try to take it. In this system, possibly, and in other systems, for sure. Have you ever been attacked?”

  “No, Yarkle never took us anywhere dangerous like that. Four years ago, he took us to a system with no life. There were three destroyed ships drifting in high orbit around a planet’s moon. We gathered the last of these ships our last trip out,” Hank answered, continuing to work.

  “Wait, you mean it was a system with no life. None?” Harmon asked, disbelieving.

  “Yes. He said we were headed to a secret spot. I do not know how he knew of it. I think because we gathered the last of the scrap, he knew he might have to go somewhere where it would be dangerous next, so he sold his ship. He did not like confrontation.”

  “Is that where the load before this one came from?” Harmon asked.

  “Yes, it is. We brought back a large section that time. We did not cut all of it up because it fit in the hold. It was to be melted, anyway, and Yarkle did not provide guidance. We had taken everything of value from the ship prior to that. Yarkle sold it in other systems,” Hank said, explaining.

  On the third day traveling, the ship remained on auto pilot. Harmon had just finished running an in-operation test on the systems, and everything appeared to be in working order. Zerith was over on the other side of the operations center, showing Hank and Stan how to use the weapons console for the new turrets mounted on the top of the ship. Some of the aiming was similar to the aiming system they had put into the mech. They would test it on asteroids once they were in orbit around the planet.

  Harmon called back to the power plant, and Kyla let him know that there were no issues. She and Vera were still learning to use the program Clip had written to optimize the output of the engines. There was plenty of time for it. He then looked over at Zerith, Hank, and Stan and smiled, though he tried to hide it.

  Clip and Zerith had made goggles for their crew members. It allowed Clip to reprogram the lighting in the ship so that it was not as dim as it had been the first day they stepped onboard. The Leethog could wor
k under regular lights, but dark goggles let them work more efficiently, and the goggles could darken even more should one of them need to operate a cutting laser or a wielder. They may look funny on the big-eared, long-faced Leethog, but they sure were practical, he thought.

  The comm on his chair crackled. “Harmon…could you and Zerith come to the ready room? Now? We…we have a situation here,” Clip said.

  Harmon heard something in his voice he had never heard before. He looked over at Zerith, and they both bolted for the hatch. Harmon shouted for Hank to watch the Operations Center. At this, Hank strolled over and climbed up into Harmon’s seat and smiled at Stan—big goggles, big ears, big teeth, and all.

  Harmon and Zerith entered the ready room and found Clip sitting at the fold-down work table. The strange block was on the table in front of him, still hooked to the power cell. It was also hooked to a power cord connected to the ship and a slate sitting upright in a stand. There were several lights lit up on the front side of the cube now, where there hadn’t been any prior.

  “What’s up?” Harmon asked, relieved that there was nothing apparently wrong.

  Clip pointed at the piece of alien technology. He had a look of bewilderment on his face Harmon had never seen. Clip never had an issue with technology, especially something to do with computers.

  “I don’t see anything,” Harmon said.

  “How rude. I am something. Am I not?” the speaker on the back of the slate asked. It was a strange sounding voice, one with the particular pronunciations of an animated computer program.

  “Nicce,” said Zerith. “It iss a computer. Did you already program it to ssay that?”

  “He most certainly did not. And you speak with a lisp,” said the slate, then it hissed for several moments in what both Clip and Harmon knew was the native language for a Prithmar. Zerith answered back in his native language, and Clip and Harmon’s translators let them know the computer had asked Zerith to speak to it in his native tongue. Zerith replied back that his Earth Common was just fine, and no human had a problem with it.