Chapter 27
“So I have some news,” Galina Korneyev said at the next briefing.
“What’s that?” Tamara asked, her face showing on the display in the Samarkand’s conference room. She was sitting in her own cabin aboard the Cavalier. Working up exercises had been going well. Her crew was still green, and making their fair share of mistakes, but they were getting stronger and more confident. Leicasitaj was proving to be a good leader. Each day he stepped up to the responsibilities heaped upon him as a first officer and managed the ship without complaint. Tamara was confident that he would be able to take a more forward role in the command of the ship soon.
“It seems the government has gotten off its ass and decided to commission a ship,” the lupusan went on.
“Well that’s good news,” Tamara replied. “A warship?”
“A freighter. My old ship, in fact,” she said bitterly. “She’s been converted to carry passengers and freight. They’ve also replaced the fusion reactor and the power systems. They’re getting a crew together, but from what I understand, the ship will be ready for space in less than a week.”
Tamara tsked. “How in the hell is it that they can get that ship up and going in a few weeks, but they can’t get any significant progress done on the Leytonstone in six months?”
“Well, all they needed was to get a new reactor in and upgrade the power systems,” Galina said, her voice still holding an edge of anger. “And now apparently, they have.”
“Well, this is certainly news,” Tamara said, “but I’m not entirely certain why you’re telling me this.”
The lupusan growled softly. “I’m telling you because I’ve been informed that the Kara is being sent to Ulla-tran to try and establish a trade route. The convoy from Ulla-tran apparently lit a fire under more than a few of the local businesses and they got themselves in motion.”
Tamara shook her head. “No they didn’t,” she spat. “We did. It was all the running around and networking that we did that got things going.” She ground her teeth in frustration. “I don’t suppose it matters, really, why they’re getting a trade mission going.”
“No, I don’t suppose it does,” Galina agreed. “But a week from now they’re scheduled to head out. They’re coming to the Kutok mine to get a full load of fuel and then from there they are off for Ulla-tran.”
Tamara nodded, tapping a finger on the desk. “Good riddance. Well, maybe something good will come of it. Anything else?”
“The fighters you requested just started rolling off the assembly line, such as it is,” Galina replied. “Sterling has been irascible about the whole business, but she’s getting the job done. She said to tell you that the last of them will be done in two days and will be ready for space.”
“Some good news,” Tamara said with a quirk of her lips. “Korqath has been pestering me about the ships for the last week. He’s already got his squadron members chosen and assembled. They’ve been running the simulators nonstop ever since getting to the station.” She chuckled. “Though I can’t say that’s a bad thing, having the starfighter force eager to get to work.”
“No, I can’t say that it is, not after what we’ve been through,” Galina said. At Tamara’s scowl, she went on. “Don’t get all hot under the collar, Tamara. I know I didn’t go through what you did, but that was only by a fluke of luck. If they’d turned toward us instead of the Grania Estelle, well, my ship didn’t even have any weapons or security troopers. You were able to fight them and win your freedom. We would most likely still be enslaved to them. Enslaved or dead.” Tamara grunted in acknowledgement. “Forgive me. I know those are terrible memories; times that are best forgotten.”
But Tamara shook her head. “No, not forgotten,” she disagreed. “But I don’t think those are memories that need to be dredged up all the time. I’m… we’re… bolstering the defenses here in the hopes of keeping Verrikoth and his thugs at bay. But I’m afraid without the Leytonstone actively working to defend the system, we won’t be any match for the pirate lord and his flotilla.”
“We will have a full squadron of fighters in a few days, all crewed by fighter pilots,” Galina reminded her.
“Rookies,” Tamara replied. “Very green. And I can’t afford to take time away from the Cavalier to assist in working them up yet. Either I leave Leicasitaj here to run the ship by himself and assist Korqath, or I leave Korqath to whip the newbies into shape to get this ship ready.” She shrugged. “There are no good or easy answers. The Romigani needs at least another month before I’m going to be willing to turn the ship over to him.”
Now it was Galina’s turn to shrug. “It’s only a month. In the meantime, if you want the young zheen to step up you need to give him the room to work. He can’t hide behind your welding apron forever, you know.”
“I know. I’m just antsy.” Tamara rubbed the back of her neck. “I’ll feel better once this ship is ready for combat and the Aploras have a bit more experience under their collective belts.”
“I think we all will, Tamara.” Galina chuffed. “I’m just glad Eretria decided to fix the hyperdrives on board the Samarkand. I can’t tell you how nervous I was having it all in pieces.”
“It’s unlikely you’d be able to outrun the aggressor ships if they show up here, you know,” Tamara said gently. “Unless they come in on just the right vector and you happen to spot them in time, they should probably have the speed to overtake the Samarkand before you can make the hyper limit. Those cruisers of his have some impressive acceleration.”
The lupusan grunted. “You know just how to cheer an old wolf up, you know that?”
“Sorry.”
“All right, make sure you have your stunners and go,” Corajen told her deputies. “Get out of here, make sure you go through every compartment, but stay out of the engineers’ way. I don’t want another pissing contest like we had last week.” They filed out, all but one.
“But Chief, they were the ones that were trying to bring the zolen dust through the station,” one of the deputies pointed out. “They were breaking the station laws.”
“Yes, Brevel, I know that,” she said tiredly. “But you didn’t need to toss the guy across the corridor. You’re lucky we had him dead to rights on the z-dust possession or he might have had you up on charges.” She pointed a claw-tipped finger at him. “Don’t give me a reason to find fault in your work. You follow regulations and enforce the laws. Because if I hear any more stories like that one, Brevel, there isn’t going to be any paperwork. You and I are going to have a discussion you won’t like. And then you’ll be visiting the infirmary.”
The tall man gulped, fear coursing through him as the predator snarled at him. “Y-yes, Chief,” he stammered.
She dismissed him with a wave, her anger still palpable. “Now go, you have a patrol to get to.”
He nodded and exited with more speed than he normally would have. Corajen shook her head and watched him go. She was seated behind her desk in the security office, two displays open on either side of her, a datapad on the desk. Station security had been pretty easy ever since the facility had gone online. With the amount of deputies she had, she was easily able to maintain a presence throughout the station, which helped to keep the crime level almost nonexistent. There had been a few fights broken up in the habitat area, a few arrests for drug possession, one case of petty theft, certainly nothing serious. But Corajen believed in preventing crime just as much as fighting it, so she kept up with both regular and random patrols.
There were over a thousand people working and living on the station now, which meant that Corajen’s one hundred and fifty security personnel had to maintain a good deal of vigilance to keep order. But so far, things had been going smoothly. However, plans were in the pipeline to increase the amount of livable space onboard the station. Right now, there were habitation areas, consisting of living quarters and common areas, which included eateries and a few small shops. But Corajen had been informed that the common areas were
going to be expanded into a promenade level, containing much more in the way of businesses, bars and restaurants. The lupusan had mixed feelings about this. On the one claw, she was just as excited as everyone else to have increased commerce on the station. Stars knew she go for better food than some of the slop the mess attendants thought was edible cuisine and she enjoyed hitting the bar occasionally and living it up as much as the next girl. But with these benefits came the costs. She’d have to stay on top of things to maintain order.
And it also appeared that the locals were starting to get their acts together and follow Samair’s lead in the engineering department. Two of the groundside companies apparently had received orders to build a cargo ship, the first that had been built in the system in decades. They were collaborating for this the first build, but after that, scuttlebutt held, they were going to work independently and forge their own separate destinies. Corajen snorted at her own thoughts. But, having a ship that wasn’t owned by Vincent Eamonn operating first in this system and then eventually heading out to places unknown meant that eventually they would be coming here to the Kutok mine. They’d be here for refueling, food and a day’s liberty before heading out into the black. And then of course, when they returned here from far flung places, they’d want a drink or a meal or to spend some credits. Which of course meant that it would be up to Corajen and her people to keep order.
She welcomed the challenge. Up until the escapades in Ulla-tran, she’d enjoyed working on the Grania Estelle, going to new places, seeing new people on the various planets. And, if she was honest, she enjoyed dealing with the pirates once she and Saiphirelle had been freed from the brig. Her blood heated just at the thought of the modified hunt. It was unlikely that she would have opportunities like that here at the mine, but there was always the possibility that Verrikoth and his thugs might come here. This station was a treasure trove of fuel and volatile gasses that were being collected for sale. Not of course to mention the fact that the gear was all running smoothly with barely a hiccup. The Kutok mine would easily be able to gather and process enough helium 3 to maintain operations as well as more than provide a full amount of fuel for the pirate flotilla should they come here.
Tamara had broken out all the toys for her in case the worst should happens. Assault rifles, stunners, body armor, shotguns, and plenty of the low-vel ammo that shouldn’t puncture the hull should there be a boarding action. She’d been training her deputies in firearms and close quarter combat, should the worst happen. For the most part, they were happy to have the drills and the structure, most of all, Corajen thought they were just excited and empowered by being able to work with the guns. It made them feel dangerous, but they didn’t really believe that there would ever be any serious problems. Or they thought that if there was a pirate threat, it would never come to Seylonique. The adage of “don’t go looking for trouble and no trouble will come looking for you” pervaded this system. Corajen thought it was incredibly naïve, but it was a belief that would not be shaken. For now, the lupusan maintained and increased her state of readiness and her deputies thought of it as a game. Hopefully that would be enough.
“So how long are you going to stay, Captain?” Tamara asked. She was seated in the officer’s mess aboard the Cavalier, and Vincent Eamonn had come over to see the warship his company had constructed.
He sat comfortably in the chair across from her. “This room is cramped,” he complained.
Tamara laughed at him. “This is a warship, Captain. It’s all about economy of space. I suppose we could make a warship with all the open space of the Grania Estelle, but it would have to be a huge ship.”
He shrugged. “Sounds good. When can you start?”
Tamara sighed. “Look, I’d love to put together a battleship, Vincent, but we just aren’t set up for that. We’d have to build up a proper yard, with construction slips. We’d need hundreds more employees and shipbuilders, and thousands of bots. A ship that big, there’s no way we could assemble it on the planet’s surface like we did with this baby,” she said, patting the bulkhead. “Come to think of it, we probably shouldn’t have built this ship down there either. I was concerned that the tugs wouldn’t be able to get the ship off the ground without tearing it apart.”
Another shrug. “I don’t see the problem.”
“Really? I know the money has been flowing in to the coffers, as it were, and FP, Incorporated is probably now the richest company on the planet, much to the annoyance of a lot of the more landed families,’ she said with a smirk, “but do you have any conception about how expensive it is to build a warship of that size?”
“More than the Kutok mine?” Vincent asked. “I know just how incredibly expensive that is.”
Tamara tipped her head from side to side. “Point. But then there’s also the crew requirement. The station can comfortably run with the crew we’ve got on there now. Maybe about a hundred or so more souls on there once all the collectors and refineries are installed.”
He blinked. “Really? Even with all twenty sections running?”
She nodded. “Yes. The biggest problem is with maintenance. A great amount of people are needed to make sure that everything keeps running smoothly. Only about two hundred or so are needed for control.” She waved a hand. “But a battleship? That’s several thousand people needed to run the systems, fight the ship and if you’re wanting to do things properly, you’d need at least a thousand soldiers aboard for boarding operations and ship security.”
He slumped a bit. “So you’re saying it can’t be done.”
She smiled. “Did I say that? What I said is that we don’t have what we need to build one. Not now. But do I want to build one? Absolutely.”
“What would it take?”
She leaned back a bit and stared at the overhead. “Well, getting the materials is easy enough,” Tamara said. “We’re the only game in town as far as getting the raw materials are concerned. The problem is having the manpower. We’d have to expand operations by five or six times the amount we have now to maintain operations and be able to build a shipyard facility. That means three or four mining ships, more tugs, bots, as well as personnel. Honestly, we’re going to need outside funding. Building the facilities and then the ship itself would bankrupt us. We’d have to do it slowly, piecemeal, and that would take time.”
“I could talk to the Triarch again,” Vincent mused.
She smiled. “That’s nice, Vincent, but a few million credits would only be enough for a startup loan. We’d need government funding to really get it finished in anything resembling a fast timeframe. Oh, we could do it without it, but it would take years.”
He nodded. “What about another warship?”
“Another corvette like this one? Easy enough. We could build one in a few weeks, if you like. But I really think that’s the limit of what we can feasibly do with the amount of budget we can put forth for paying the crew, fuel, munitions and maintenance.”
“How are your fighter squadrons doing?” he asked.
Tamara nodded. “Good. Aplora squadron is up to full strength, twenty ships. I’ve got Korqath training them up even as we speak. But the Delphon are a different matter.”
Vincent frowned, leaning forward a bit. “Why? What’s wrong with them? They seem like pretty good little ships.”
“Against lightly armed freighters, yes,” Tamara agreed. “But against proper warships they would be of little use. And even against other fighters they aren’t that good. Too lightly armed and armored. They’re fast and maneuverable, but I’m hesitant to deploy them in any greater numbers.”
“So what does that mean?”
“It means,” she went on, “that I need to either find a new ship design or another ship to use.”
“What about your fighter?” he asked. “The one you got from me?”
She shook her head. “Needs implants to properly interface with the navigation controls. It’s the reason I can use it without much effort and probably the reason that the sh
ip was rusting away when you found it.”
“Damn, I thought we’d found the answer.”
“Really?” she asked with a smirk. “You really thought I’d forgotten about my own ship?”
He had the grace to look embarrassed. “I guess I thought it had been sitting in the hangar and you overlooked it.”
“No,” she said, “you thought I was trying to keep the ship all to myself. That I would have a one-of-a-kind ship. Really, Vincent? You thought I was that petty?”
“All right, all right, I made a mistake, I’m sorry,” he said, raising his hands as though to ward off a blow. She made a face at him and he nodded. “So where do we go from here?”
Tamara sighed. “I don’t know, to be honest. I’ve put a request out to a few architectural firms and a few engineering companies to try and come up with a usable aeroframe.”
“Why can’t you do it?” Vincent asked, gesturing to her. “You designed the mine and the tugs and the shuttles.”
“I didn’t design the shuttles and the tugs, Vincent,” she told him flatly. “I copied them as you well know.”
“And the mine? I know for a fact you didn’t copy that.”
“No, I didn’t,” she admitted. “But building a system to integrate gas collection and refinery is a far cry from building a space superiority fighter.”
He waved his hands. “Woo, a space superiority fighter. Listen to you,” he mocked lightly. Tamara leaned forward and slugged him in the arm. He rubbed where she’d hit him, but smiled. “Seriously, though, why can’t you make it?”
“Because I’ve got a thousand things I’ve got to be doing, now that you’ve saddled me with command of this ship.”
“How’s that going, anyway?” he asked. “Things seem to be running pretty smoothly.”
Hold the Star: Samair in Argos: Book 2 Page 66