This time he laughed derisively. “Oh, I think it’s far too late for that. It was too late when you started pressing my door chime,” he accused.
Taja had the good grace to look embarrassed. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that.”
“I doubt it.”
She slapped her palms down on the table. “Can you just log on, please!”
“Not until you tell me what it is you’re looking for,” he countered. “And why it is you need access to my personal files when everything you could need is on the mainframe.”
She twisted in the seat to look at him properly. “Because I need your personal files concerning Seylonique.”
“Seylonique?” he demanded. That was not what he had expected. “Get the hell out of my quarters! You came in here looking for dirt on a business deal?”
“Yes, I did,” she shot back. “I need that information.”
“Why would you possibly need that information, Taja? I know you’re the cargo specialist on this ship, but the likelihood that we’re ever going to be trading in cargoes again is nil. This is a pirate ship. We’ll never be a free trader again.”
“That’s why I need that information,” she pressed. “I’m working on a way to get us out from under the pirates and back to where we were before.” She grimaced. “Based on the way you smell and the state of this place, I’m guessing you aren’t interested.”
“Interest me, then,” he told her. “What the hell is so damned interesting about Seylonique?”
So she told him.
A short while later, Vincent Eamonn stepped out of the shower, scrubbed and clean for the first time in days. His head still hurt a bit, but was nowhere near as bad as earlier. He swallowed another pill from the bottle on the counter and pulled on a fresh shipsuit. Sliding on his boots, he checked himself again in the mirror and was, strangely, was pleased with what he saw. He still had bags under his eyes, but the eyes themselves looked more lively, with more vitality than since this ride through hyperspace had started and certainly since that horrific day.
Without another thought, he marched from his quarters and went straight to the bridge. It was unsurprisingly sparse of crewmen at this time. A very long flight through hyperspace required little more than a bridge watch, certainly nothing like the full watch needed when they were in normal space. The ship could fly itself, it just needed someone there to keep an eye on things, to report in or call for help if needed. Engineering needed to make sure that all the systems were running smoothly and the crewman on bridge watch was really being little more than another pair of eyes.
Serinda sat at the communications console, her datapad in one hand. She was reading something, but looked up when Eamonn stepped onto the bridge. She blinked in surprise and set down the datapad.
“Captain!” she said, leaping to her feet.
He held out a hand in a placating gesture. “Relax, Serinda. I know I’ve been out of action for quite a while, but we don’t stand on that much ceremony on this ship.”
She looked around, flustered. “I’m sorry, Captain. I know, I’m just- I was just surprised… I mean, you haven’t been on the bridge in a while…”
“Easy, Serinda,” he said again, smiling to take out the bite from his worlds, but his tone carried a bit more weight. “Before you sprain something.”
She chuckled and sat back down.
“Report please.”
“Ship is on course and on target,” she said, her eyes flying over the communications console, which had the navigation feeds slaved to it as well so she wouldn’t have to get up to check, or have to sit at the nav console instead of her regular station. The communications console wasn’t really designed to be able to run additional systems through it, but it could display the information needed and if Serinda had or discovered any issues with what was displayed, she could easily call for assistance. “We’re holding speed at Red level seven, estimated time of arrival…”
He nodded. “I know, we still have a while yet to go.”
“Yes, Captain, at this speed, we certainly do.” She chuckled ruefully. “I guess we got spoiled after working with Tamara. Going at least into the Yellow level.”
He sighed, nodding again. “Yeah. We did get spoiled. And with the pirates in control, we’re going to be months more before we get to Amethyst.”
“Yes, sir. And I have to say that really sucks.”
Eamonn smiled. “Yes, Serinda. I really does. How’s Kutok been? I was going to go and check on her after I was done here.”
The lovely young woman dropped her gaze to the deck. “She hasn’t been well, Captain. She’s angry. I’ve never seen her like that before. Ever. She’s always so polite and proper and sweet. Now? Now she has this, this, this… black hatred under her carapace and it’s eating her up.”
“I know. And it’s doing the same to me too. No one should have treated her or the…” He almost couldn’t continue. “The others like that.” He cleared his throat and then continued. Walking over, he checked the helm. Everything he saw on the displays confirmed what Serinda had reported a moment earlier. Moving up, he settled himself into the seat there and took a quick moment to familiarize himself with the controls. Once he was sure he was ready, he activated the console, which up until now was in lockdown. Twisting the appropriate control knob, the console went active, ready for the user to enter commands.
He took a deep breath. Once he did this, they’d be committed. Though if he was truly honest with himself, they’d been committed ever since the pirates took control of his ship. So he accessed the controls and took the next step.
“Captain, what are you doing?” Serinda asked, standing up so she could see him properly where he was sitting.
“I’m taking us out of hyperspace,” he replied, pressing the controls. There was a shiver and a sharp jolt, and the decreasing whine of the hyperdrive powering down. The jolt was hard enough for both of them to each grab one of the handles to prevent themselves from being tossed around.
“What? Why did you do that?” she demanded. Her console pinged. She pressed a control.
“Jax to Bridge,” came a voice over the comm. “What the hell just happened?”
Eamonn stood up and walked over to the communications console. He pressed a control, activating the ship-wide PA system. “This is the Captain speaking. I’ve brought the ship out of hyperspace prematurely. Engineering officers, please report to the wardroom immediately. Everyone else, we will continue with third watch. That is all for now.” And he signed off.
Serinda was staring at him as though he’d lost his mind. “Captain, what have you done? What are you doing?”
“Close your mouth, Serinda, you look like an idiot,” he said with a smile. “And yes, I’m aware that the good Armsman is not going to be pleased to learn that I’ve dropped us out of hyper, but we’ve done this sort of thing before. Twice.”
She closed her mouth with a click, then shrugged. “You’re the Captain,” she muttered.
“For however long that lasts,” he returned. “Carry on. I’ll get others up here to support you in a few minutes. Oh, and when the good Armsman comes up here, if he hasn’t figured out I’m in the wardroom, please tell him I’m there.” And he walked off the bridge, heading for the wardroom.
The engineering officers: Quesh and Ka’Xarian, were arriving in the wardroom when a trio of soldiers came barreling past them, shoving the two of them to the side. Armsman Gideon Jax was in the lead, his sidearm in his naked fist, the other two soldiers behind, and their carbines unslung and ready to shoot. The two soldiers behind Jax were sweeping the room with their weapons and their gaze, keeping everyone in sight, just waiting to be given the go ahead to start shooting. Apparently, it had been far too long and they were having an unbelievable hankering. Gideon Jax, however, only had eyes for the Captain and the gaze he was leveling was one of pure fury.
“What in the hell makes you think that you can just drop this ship out of hyperspace after I gave orders that under no c
ircumstances were we to do so?” Jax demanded, coming to a stop at the end of the table. His free hand rested on the edge of the conference table, while his other hand gripped the butt of his pistol so hard his knuckles were turning white.
Eamonn sighed. He gestured to the two engineers. “Good, Armsman, you’re here. I figured you’d be along so there was no need to call you in here. I decided that I’d had enough poking along at the very lumbering speed we were moving at and that a pit stop was in order to get some overhauls done to the ship.”
“Overhauls?” the pirate spluttered. The other two guards looked bleak. “Overhauls?”
“Yes, Armsman, overhauls,” the captain went on. “I want to get to Amethyst a lot sooner than our current projected date, and we can’t make the fixes necessary to do that while we’re tootling along in the Red levels of hyperspace. So I dropped us out here in the void between systems so that the engineering teams can upgrade the shields and tune the hyperdrive so we can go faster. Three or four days sitting in the void can shave weeks off our journey.”
“You… did… not… have my authorization to do that!”
“It’s done,” Eamonn said flatly. “Jumping back now will not change anything and in fact, will cause us to lose time. If we do it my way, we will make up a great deal of time.” The two men stared at each other across the table; Jax fuming and Eamonn calmly gazing back. “Either I’m the Captain or I’m not. And your leader, Captain Verrikoth, indicated that I am in charge of my own ship. Your men were here to provide security, nothing more. Now I’d let a lot slide in the time since we left Ulla-tran, but that ends today, Armsman. I am the Captain of this ship and as such, we are going to do things my way.” He deliberately broke eye contact and looked over to his two engineers. “Now, Quesh, talk to me about the shields. I know we have a bay filled with shield generator nodes. What’s the install time?”
The Armsman just stood there, blazing with anger as the captain continued to disregard his presence. Eamonn wasn’t ignoring him, he was simply acting as though the other man had nothing to contribute to the conversation. Everyone else in the room was clearly picking up on this, as both engineers were trying to subtly inch away from their commanding officer.
“Quesh!” Eamonn’s voice cracked like a whip. “The nodes, please.”
The Parkani stared for another long instant before blinking and then answering. “Right, the nodes. Well, we’ve got eight in the bay, just waiting for install. We’re going to have to get EVA teams out on the hull to do the tear out and replacement of the nodes. That’s going to take several hours at least.” He crossed two of his arms over his chest, the lower two he leaned on the table. His eyes flicked over to the pirates, but then back to his captain just as quickly. “We have to send out the bots to do a survey of the hull, look for any serious structural problems. I’m not comfortable trying to push her up to the high speeds we were doing when we arrived at Ulla-tran.”
Eamonn frowned, trying very hard to keep his attention on his Chief Engineer. “Great. How fast do you think we can get the old girl up to?”
Quesh shrugged his upper shoulders, managing to keep calm now that the topic of conversation had turned to more mundane things. It was easier to ignore the overloading nuclear reactor standing at the end of the table. “I think,” the Parkani said slowly, keeping his eyes on the Captain the whole time he was speaking, “barring any serious structural problems, we should be able to break into the Yellow level. Max would be level three.”
Ka’Xarian’s mandibles clacked, his version of clearing his throat. “I don’t know, Chief. I think that with the damage we’ve already taken that we could get the girl that high. Maybe we could cross to Yellow level one. Maybe.”
Jax’s fury was starting to cool as he listened. He slid his weapon back into his holster on his thigh, and took a few deep cleansing breaths. He didn’t speak, just did an about face and ushered his men out of the wardroom without so much as a backward glance. When the hatch closed behind them, all three males let out sighs of relief.
“I thought we were dead there, Captain,” the zheen said, his voice pitched low.
Eamonn let out a grim chuckle. “We might still be yet, Mister Ka’Xarian. I think for now, he’s realizing the futility of opposing this decision and the benefits of letting you and your teams get to work. But I don’t think I’m going to be able to get away with too many more surprises like this one.”
The three exchanged glances. “So, Captain, you’re serious about wanting these repairs done?” Quesh asked.
“Hell yes I’m serious,” Eamonn replied, with a mock-growl. “I didn’t risk all our lives just to prove my manhood. I want this ship moving again.”
“All right, sir. No problem,” Ka’Xarian replied, his antennae perking up with amusement. “I’ll get the teams together and we’ll get started.” Without another word, the zheen turned and left the wardroom, the hatch closing with a clunk behind him.
The Parkani remained behind, looking nervous. The Captain smiled at him. “You look as though you have something to say to me, Chief.”
He nodded. “Yes, sir. I do. Any chance we can get Samair out of the brig for this, Captain? She’s a good worker and with so many crew down, I need every hand I can get.”
“I know, Quesh,” Eamonn replied darkly. “But I don’t think we’re lucky enough to be able to thwart the pirates twice in one day. I’ll think on it, but for now, we work without her.”
“She’s crew, Captain,” Quesh pressed.
Eamonn stood up, slowly. He wasn’t trying to intimidate, or to threaten, he simply didn’t want to make this point while he was sitting down. “I am well aware of that, Quesh. She brought my ship back to life. And if not for the mess in Ulla-tran, we’d still be out there, plying the spacelanes.”
“Which is why we owe her, Captain,” Quesh said, stubbornly.
“I know that, Chief. Now you have work to do, please get to it,” Eamonn said, holding back anger. This wasn’t Quesh’s fault.
The Parkani nodded. “Aye, Captain,” he rumbled. Then he turned and headed out of the wardroom, leaving the Captain there alone.
“Damn,” Eamonn said, tapping his fist on the table.
Locked in the brig, Tamara felt the ship drop sharply out of hyperspace. Clearly the drives were out of alignment again, her engineering brain told the rest of her, though the rest of her honestly didn’t care what was going on in the ship anymore. Just moving, hell, just breathing hurt. The doc had been by to check her over, gave her some Quick Heal and said he’d be by again to check on her in a day or two. The guards seemed surprisingly cooperative toward the Guura, allowing him to come and see his patient, someone who Armsman Jax had sworn would not be leaving that cell again until they reached Verrikoth’s fleet. Then he could hand her over to the Captain and let him deal with her.
The pain wasn’t so much physical. She kept seeing them, all those dead crewmates. Thankfully, it was only when she closed her eyes, when she was too worn out from weariness did her mind shut down and she would slip into sleep. And then the nightmares would be there, waiting for her. She supposed she should feel bad for the pirates, but she didn’t. She knew that most of them deserved their fate, but the people of the Grania Estelle didn’t. They were trying to better themselves, to try to make a credit or two in a very hostile section of space, unlike the pirates who were trying to pillage and steal and kill anything in their path.
Her HUD wasn’t being overly helpful either, which was actually something to be grateful for. She remembered stories back in her Navy days in which people who had suffered serious emotional trauma would unconsciously access their implants, which would happily bring up images of people who had been killed or hurt, or bring up recordings of the traumatic event. Tamara really didn’t need any reminders as her own gray matter was doing a fine job of remembering all on its own.
Tamara picked herself up off the deck and flopped down on the bunk, turning to face the bulkhead. The ever glowing light pan
els up above never allowed the cell to be dark, which wasn’t helping her mood. She wanted very much to be in the darkness, which was on the one hand a more appropriate setting for her mood, but on the other she very much appreciated the never-ending light, as it helped, albeit only a little, to keep the nightmares at bay.
The rest of the ship was back to a whirlwind of activity. EVA teams were out on the hull, inspecting and cataloguing the damage that they hadn’t gotten to while back at Ulla-tran. There had been too much of a hurry, what with the pirates, the boarding and then the arrival of the Republic cruiser to do much more than note problems, and only then only in for far as they affected basic operating. Since at the time neither the Captain nor Armsman Jax had any intention of hanging around any longer than necessary, they only focused on getting the most basic of shield coverage over the ship and sealing up the biggest rents in the hull. Now, however, the entire complement of bots were released out onto the hull to scour the hull while all the EVA teams worked to install the shield nodes.
The teams were running full tilt, but it was still slow going. They were short-handed and not everyone could go out onto the hull. There simply not enough engineering hardsuits available to go out in, not everyone was trained for that and some needed to stay inside and keep everything running. It also didn’t help that the pirates were nosing about, mostly making themselves known, keeping a presence in engineering and the bridge.
Two of the pirate fighter pilots took shuttles out to fly nearby, in case any of the crew were detached from the ship and floating free, under orders from Armsman Jax. No one understood his sudden compassion for the crew, especially given the circumstances, but no one questioned it either. The third shuttle was kept in the boat bay, but the pilot was hanging around in the bay ready to go if needed. It would be unlikely, as the other two shuttles were out and about, but the Captain wanted to be prepared.
The pirates seemed nervous, out here in the void. All of them were old hands at working in space, but it was rare that a ship would stop in the long stretch between star systems. For the crew of the Grania Estelle this was nothing new, their third time to do serious repairs and overhauls while out in the void.
Hold the Star: Samair in Argos: Book 2 Page 10