“I honestly had nothing to do with the ship that found me,” she replied innocently. She turned and waved to the serving bot, which started over to their booth from the other side of the pub. “Grania Estelle picked up my escape pod several months ago, and I’ve been working with them ever since to get their ship fixed back up. Did a fairly decent job of it too,” she said, her lips twisting in a grimace, “Until we tangled with some pirates. Actually, a lot of pirates.”
He nodded. “Your ship was attacked. I sympathize. At least you were able to run away from them. They don’t seem to have chased you here to Seylonique.”
She shook her head. “No, Konstantin, we didn’t run away. They had cruisers and a corvette. They ran us down and boarded us. But not before blasting apart the side of the ship because we banged them up a bit.”
He stared at her. “As I said, I saw your ship. She’s very big, but did you mount weapons on her?”
She shrugged. “A few,” Tamara said, remembering. “A few rail guns. But she was way outclassed by the pirate ships. We didn’t stand any sort of chance against them. Maybe if we’d been able to build up enough delta-v to get to the hyper limit before they got close enough, we might have been able to make the jump to hyper, but they ran us down in pretty short order.” She looked down at the scratched tabletop and then downed the rest of her beer. The bot, whirring, flew up to the table. “What are you getting?” she asked.
He ordered another drink and an order of roasted quillhog. Tamara ordered a burger, hoping that the food here would be better than that of the last eating establishment she’d visited. They sat for a few moments while they waited for the food, as the bot brought out another round of drinks.
“You know,” she said, as the bot flew off to help another customer, “I’m thinking that I might need to invest in a few bots from the station. We’re undergoing some serious repairs right now and I think my ship’s AI is getting a little bored.”
His ear flicked. “You need to have serving bots?”
She shook her head. “No, I was referring to the bots in general. We’ve got about a score of maintenance ones, good for cleaning and doing diagnostic work, but I’m thinking if the station has even just a handful of actual repair bots, we can use them to do some of the more dangerous or tedious jobs.”
“I thought that was what enlisted personnel are for,” he quipped with a smile.
She looked down her nose at him with a glare of mock severity. “I will have you know, Chaplain, that I always treated the enlisted under my command with respect.”
“And then you sent them to do the shit jobs,” Konstantin finished.
“Not all,” she replied. “That’s also what junior officers were for.” She winked at him.
“Well that was obvious,” the lupusan answered. “I remember a number of ensigns and junior lieutenants that needed to have a chief to set them straight.”
“Politely, of course,” Tamara replied. “It doesn’t do to ruffle the feathers of officers.”
“Oh, of course not,” Konstantin agreed. “It is our responsibility as enlisted,” he said, sounding as though he was quoting someone, “to wipe the noses and bottoms of the junior officers and make sure that they and the new enlisted don’t accidently stick their heads inside of a fusion reactor.”
“Quoting Master Chief Kuvalo, aren’t you,” Tamara guessed shrewdly. The old senior enlisted aboard the Steadfast was extremely good at his job. He also had a lot of opinions about junior officers and enlisted, most of which happened to be right.
“The old bug knew what he was talking about,” Konstantin replied. “When he wasn’t talking out of his ass.”
Tamara chuckled. “Oh you and he got along pretty well, from what I remembered.”
“He saw to the well-being of the ship, I saw to their souls,” Konstantin said. “I think he did a better job, all things considered.”
“He just had more time in grade,” Tamara said, trying to sooth the lupusan.
He huffed. “Don’t you placate me, Ms. Officer,” he snapped, but then smiled to take away the sting. “Constant Tyranny, indeed. I know exactly what the crew all called me behind my back. To my face! Star Chaser! Nutcase!” He actually seemed to be fine with it, a slight smile on his face.
“I’m sorry, Chaplain,” she said, feeling uncomfortable. “I know I called you that back in the day too.”
“Do you still believe it?” he asked gently. “That I’m insane, a follower of a defunct and ridiculous cult?”
“I’ll tell you, Konstantin,” she said in all seriousness. “Before my long sleep, I would have said that you were. Something to be pitied or endured. I remember not caring to hear the endless sermons, though I did very much appreciate all the hard work you did in counseling those who were hurting, or your tending of the sick and injured.” She sipped her drink for a few moments, and he stayed silent, watching her. “But now? I feel different. The fact that I was saved at the very moment from my conviction at my trial? That’s a hell of a coincidence. And then, my subordinate tried to take advantage of the confusion during the attack to finish me off, shot me and stuck me in a damaged escape pod and launched me out into the void. He meant to kill me and I was supposed to die. But I didn’t. I was able to sleep through the war, and for all those years after that to be rescued by those people out there.” She gestured vaguely in the direction of the space outside the station. “And after all that I went through, I was able to find you, who I had mocked in days past, I’m ashamed to say. But through it all, we’re both here. So, I’d like to apologize, Konstantin Tyannikov, for my youthful stupidity. I don’t know that I believe in the stars are beings watching over us all, but someone’s been looking out for me, so…” She trailed off, slightly uncomfortable.
“Epiphanies always come through pain,” he commented.
She snorted a laugh. “Don’t I know it. So,” she said, rounding on him. “Now that you’ve twice managed to get me to talk about myself, you, sir are now going to tell me all about you and what you’ve been doing all these years. Did you start your own ministry? Find a mate? Fight off a horde of humans trying to stomp out a clutch of zheen eggs?”
He laughed and they spent the next two hours chatting about life. The lupusan had traveled across the light years, helping where he could, giving any kind of aid, be it medical or spiritual to the peoples of a war torn area. He’d been on a journey of discovery, trying to explore as much of the stars and worlds as he could and he had made a decent dent in that goal. In two hundred and fifty years, he’d lived on forty-six worlds, across the Republic and eventually out here in the Argos Cluster. He’d spread the word of his faith, and perhaps influenced a few people’s lives in that time. He didn’t hold out much hope that he had converted anyone, and honestly, he hadn’t really tried. It was more about getting out the message, to try and make people better that was important. The stars watched over all, and you could find the Divine in the simplest of gestures.
He’d worked in clinics on several different worlds, using his knowledge and skills to pay his way. He’d hitchhiked on several freighters, serving as a medical officer to pay for passage and food. “It was a good way to meet people, see this part of the galactic arm. I met a lot of good people,” then he smiled, “And a lot of not so good. I think the fact that I am lupusan kept me out of trouble much more than any vaunted fighting prowess.”
“You know better than most that you could take someone apart without really trying, Konstantin,” she replied with a smirk. “I know it isn’t your nature, but they don’t know that. And as far as keeping you out of trouble I’d think that your race’s reputation was a good thing.”
He shrugged. “It certainly helped.”
Their afternoon finally came to an end, their empty plates taken away by the server bot. The food here was far superior than the other café that Tamara had eaten at, she would have to remember to come back to this place in the future. Tamara checked the time display on her HUD. “It’s getting clo
se to the time I’ll need to get back to the ship.”
He nodded. “I do understand. You have a life to get back to.”
“You’ve skirted around the question, Konstantin in our time together,” Tamara said.
“And what question would that be?”
“What is it that you do on this station?” she asked. “I’m guessing that you are probably continuing with your meditations and trying to locate the Divine in all of us.”
The lupusan smiled, leaning back in the booth, adopting a very human pose. “Well, you’re not wrong in that. I’ve only been here about four months, but the locals already don’t like me. Star Chaser is about the best that can be said for the names I get called.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, lamely.
“Oh, it isn’t your fault,” he told her, looking surprised at her apology.
“I know,” she said. “But I feel bad. You aren’t trying to hurt anyone, I assume, and you’re treated with contempt.”
“I’m not attacked or spit on, if that’s what you’re thinking,” he said. “But it’s clear I’m not the most welcome at parties. But I get by.” He shrugged.
“You still up on your medical training?” she asked, pursing her lips.
“I haven’t taken a Republic re-qual, if that’s what you’re asking,” he replied, smiling. “But I have been plying my trade fairly regularly. Mostly checkups, bumps and scrapes, the occasional birthing. I haven’t needed to perform any tracheotomies lately. Why do you ask?”
“Well, and please don’t take this the wrong way, but our ship’s doctor has been looking for more medical attendants for his gang. If you are interested, I can put in a word with him.”
He stared at her for a long moment. “You’re offering me a job?”
“Well, I am Third Engineering Officer on the ship,” she pointed out. “And we are looking for good medical people. But it isn’t my job to offer. I’m sure Turan will want to meet you first.”
“Well, if he’s any good, of course he would,” Konstantin agreed. “Would he have a problem working with a lupusan?”
Tamara chuckled. “Well, technically, Konstantin, you’d be working for him, but no, I don’t think so. Our Security Chief and another security officers are both lupusan. He’s not human, he’s a Guura.”
The chaplain smiled broadly. “I haven’t worked with a Guura in almost a hundred years!” he said, pleased. “I would like very much to meet with him, if he is agreeable. And thank you for the opportunity. I feel that perhaps the time has come to move on again.”
“It will be up to Turan and of course the Captain would need to sign off on it, but I will definitely put in a good word,” she told him, smiling. Tamara actually laughed out loud. “I haven’t smiled this much in a long time. Thank you, Chaplain.”
“I am glad I could be here to see it,” he said, bowing his head.
An alarm began to flash on the corner of her vision, indicating that she needed to get to the hangar bay to catch the shuttle back to the ship. “Well, I must be going, my friend,” she said, climbing out of the booth. The bot floated over, holding a data slate with the tab. She thumbed it, adding a decent tip. The bot whistled at her and then flew away, heading back to the main counter. Konstantin slid from the booth and they embraced again. “I will speak with the doctor and call you. Do you have a comm code?”
He shook his head. “I’m afraid I do not,” he said, sounding slightly embarrassed. “I don’t even have a communicator.”
“Aren’t there public terminals?”
“There are, but I don’t have a personalized code.”
Tamara shook her head. “And you enlisted wonder why some officers don’t respect you,” she said, taking the communicator from her pocket and flipping it open. Pressing her thumb to the port, she uploaded all the data that she had stored on the device, and deleted it from the device’s memory, leaving only the main comm code for the Grania Estelle and one for Tamara directly. She handed it to the lupusan. “Here.”
He took the communicator, but looked back at her. “I cannot take this, Tamara.”
She sighed. “I need a way to get in touch with you, Konstantin,” she told him. “And since you don’t have a communicator and I don’t have time to get one for you, you’re taking this one.” She took his hand and closed his long, clawed fingers over the communicator. “See you later, my friend.” And she bowed a bit to him before reaching out and giving him a hug. He embraced her back and then released her.
The bartender nodded to her as she walked to the door.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Stella appeared on the holo projector in the wardroom in front of where the Vincent Eamonn was working. “Captain, do you have a few minutes to talk?”
He looked up from the datapad containing the system status report he’d been reading. “Yes, Stella, what is it? Is there a problem?” The dark-skinned man seemed mildly alarmed.
She smiled and shook her head. “Oh, no Captain, nothing that serious,” she assured him. “I’m sorry if I startled you.”
He set down the datapad. “So what’s on your mind, Stella?”
She squared her shoulders, a gesture that still made him smile. She wasn’t actually there. The image before him was nothing more than a puppet of holographic light manipulated by Stella’s programming. But it was gestures like that that made her look that much more alive. She ran a hand through her black hair with the red striped highlights. “I think we need to have a talk about making money.”
Vincent burst out laughing. “I have to say, Stella, that wasn’t what I expected. And in case you haven’t been paying attention, since we’re stuck here for the next month or two working on repairs to the ship, I’ve been working my tail off trying to do just that.”
Stella nodded. “I understand, Captain. But I think there are things that can be done to make more.”
“Always something I want to hear.” He made himself more comfortable in the chair. He held out his hand briefly, indicating she should continue.
“Well, since you hired on the newest recruits from the station, we’re now up to seventy-nine in the engineering division. We haven’t needed cargo deck or steward people, not while we’re sitting still, so you wisely haven’t brought on any more. And I know that the engineering teams are working round the clock to continue the overhaul to my hull and support trusses and I’m very grateful!”
“But…?”
She pursed her lips. “Well, the helium three collector,” she said. He raised an eyebrow. “Well, now that we’ve put up the second one, we’re making a fairly steady supply of fuel.”
“All correct,” he replied.
“Well, with the replicators running full blast, we’re running through fuel fairly quickly. Not as bad as if we were using the sublight engines or the shields on full, but enough. So one of those collectors is essentially supplying fuel just for the ship itself. The other one is collecting helium 3 for sale.”
Vincent nodded. “Again, right on target.”
“Well, it’s a trifling amount, Captain. Five hundred metric tons, Captain,” she said. “And I know that sounds like a lot, and it’s enough to keep my fuel tanks topped up with each trip, but to sell to the locals, it’s a tiny amount. From what the news feeds and comm traffic I’ve been intercepting have told me, the locals are trying to convert all the reactors on the station over to helium 3 fuel. Five metric tons will get used up in a day. We need to get more fuel to them.”
He considered the AI’s image. “I take it you’re not talking about throwing up another collector.”
“Yes and no, Captain,” Stella said, nodding. “Another collector, or even a score of them like what they’ve got going at Ulla-tran is not going to cut it for the amount that the locals here are truly going to need. What we need is a full on gas mine. A collector and purifier on a massive scale.”
“How massive are you thinking?”
“If we can produce about fifty thousand metri
c tons in one go that would be more like it,” she said.
Vincent blinked. Once she’d said it, of course it made sense. The station would need an immense amount of fuel to keep going on a daily basis. Also, if they were truly serious about getting the Leytonstone up and able to defend the system they would need a serious source of fuel. And she was right, the pithy little collectors they were currently using were good for one ship, but it was little more than a splash in a very large bucket.
“All right, you’ve sold me, Stella,” he said and she beamed. “How would we work this? Do we have designs for a serious mine? And what about the locals? From what I remember from being in that meeting, not many of them are all that happy about us gathering and selling the resources of their own system back to them.”
“I’ve looked into that, Captain,” the AI said. “I’ve looked into the local laws concerning this. You already have the appropriate licenses to collect materials, but it would take much more in the way of permits and such to get this underway.”
“That’s a huge job,” Vincent went on. “And our replicators are already going full steam just to keep up with our own repairs. Even once the ship is back into tip top shape, we couldn’t handle the industrial base needed for a project like that.” He looked at her and saw her grinning at him. “Clearly you’ve had longer to think about this than I have. What?”
“Well, Captain, you’ve hit the proverbial nail,” Stella said with a smile. “We don’t. We would need to expand.”
He frowned. “I’m not sure how I like that, Stella. Right now, we’re able to do things that others can’t because we have controlled replicator support. If I spread that out, I lose control. I don’t know how I feel about giving replicators to the locals.” Then he shook his head. “Actually, I know exactly how I feel about it; I don’t like it.”
She nodded. “I understand, Captain. We would need to expand both our industrial base and our resource gathering. We would need more metal, certainly, as well as other things that we’ve found so far in the asteroid belt, and of course, fuel.”
Hold the Star: Samair in Argos: Book 2 Page 41