by Chris Hechtl
“This is very different since we have a few customers who are paying a flat rate long term contract. So the price isn't effecting them. It's biting us in the ass.”
“Ouch,” Dr. Myers said. “Are we in the red?”
“Barely breaking even at this point.”
“Oh well, some profit is better than none I suppose. At least the cost of fuel has dropped.”
“It has?” Averies pulled up a different spreadsheet and checked. Yes it had. When the admiral had added his refineries to the gas giant the price of fuel had tanked. It was still recovering, albeit slowly. He wondered briefly if that would happen with the price of metals and other materials once the speculators who were hoarding metals realized the navy was mining their own metal and wouldn't be buying it from wholesalers. He'd have to keep a close eye on that. He didn't want to sell off early and take a bath ... but he didn't want to get taken either. It might be a board item to discuss. He made a note to bring it up.
“How are the Yard Dogs managing with all this? And did you hear about the scammers?”
“Which ones, the ones faking people out saying they are legit metal brokers? Or the fake startups or pitiful ones that never get off the ground?”
“No, the one that was in the news last night. A mining shipment was bought raw then sold as processed and refined,” Doctor Meyers said.
Averies growled. “Are you serious?”
“Yes. They are on the planet, bought it sight unseen. They sold it to a ground side factory who low and behold opened the shipment and found out the difference between raw and refined the hard way,” Doctor Myers said.
“Yeah, I bet someone lost their job over that one.”
“Yes. Do you think Taylor can work a deal with the navy? Maybe get them to I don't know sell their surplus?”
“I don't even know if they will have a surplus to be honest,” Averies said carefully. “You can ask him. They are supposed to be doing some barter and trade with us. And I know they will most likely want to stockpile materials for their smelters so they don't burn through their pay and have a plant go down due to lack of material. But I honestly think they are going to suck up everything they can get their hands on.”
“Lovely. So, we either need to get into the market ourselves ...”
“Or we need to buy from other sources,” Averies replied.
“I think we need to take this to the board. If we're going to other markets we're going to have to look into Senka.”
“Senka? Can you imagine the cost of the shipping involved?” Doctor Myers asked, aghast.
“We'll have to crunch the numbers. But if the market keeps going up and up, we may have to go that route. If we can get someone in there to get us refined material back out.”
“Yeah. Big if. Isn't that a war zone?”
“Don't remind me,” Averies sighed.
...*...*...*...*...
“Admiral Irons, you are spoiled,” Captain Samuel said, shaking her head. “Tutt tutt, how the mighty have fallen. You used to eat from the bottom of the replicator, dress in a stained coverall, and work the rest of us into the deck.”
“I can still do that, Captain,” he said, eying her as he sat back and toyed with his glass.
“No, your steward won't let you,” she said as she finished her last bite. “Mmm, heavenly. Quite good, with fresh ingredients,” she said, looking at him.
“Are you telling me I'm not the type to enjoy it? Or deserve it?” he asked in mock annoyance. They'd settled into a good pairing. Naomi wasn't perfect, she definitely wasn't Ian or Renee, but she was good. And she'd finally relaxed enough around him to have a good time. That was also good. She had some of the polish, but he still had a bit to go before he was comfortable with her tactical sense.
“Not properly,” the captain said with a hint of a smile. Someone, most likely Chief Sindri snorted near the other end of the table. The captain eyed that end but didn't call them on it.
He could tell she was teasing him about his steward as they finished off the wreckage of another great meal. Cookie had out done herself he thought, the stroganoff had been excellent, better than her eggplant Parmesan. Naomi was right; her services were wasted on his uncultured palate now that she had learned how a naval steward handled her charge. Of course she didn't really need any pointers in that regard, though he was pretty certain Sprite had passed them along anyway. Still he couldn't help but get a little ribbing in, purely for retaliation of course. And if he steered it right, he'd get more than one laugh going even if it was at his own expense. “Jealous, Captain?” He asked with a teasing smile as his eyes gleamed with mischief.
Captain Samuel smiled slightly as she set her fork down. “A little. I didn't have one on Xavier and haven't earned one here,” she said, sounding amused by slightly envious.
“Well, normally starships below a cruiser do not have stewards captain,” Sprite said.
“But I still don't have one now,” the captain said, eying the AI.
The admiral shook his head. “We're working on it. Put in with Commander Sprite since she's my acting G-5. I bet there are a few people who could qualify for the position. I'd offer you Cookie ...”
“No!” the woman said from the open door to her pantry.
“But apparently I've been outvoted,” he finished wryly, turning to the captain with a shrug.
“Damn straight!” Cookie said, shaking a wooden spoon at him. He saw Sprite cross her arms and nod firmly. That sparked chuckles. When he put his hands slowly up in surrender the officers broke out into laughter.
“I know when I'm beat,” he said with a heartfelt sigh that none of the ladies believed in a heartbeat. “You ladies always have to complicate things don't you?”
“That's because you men don't listen and make it easy on yourselves. You make it harder than it has to be. If you just did as you were told you'd save yourself a lot of pain and suffering and we ladies a lot of work,” Captain Samuel retorted, eyes flickering with humor over his apparent discomfort.
“Yeah, but you take the fun out of it,” he said.
“Fun he says,” the captain said in mock exasperation. She rolled her eyes to her new chief engineer. The lieutenant smiled politely.
“Well ...” the admiral turned to see Cookie standing there with her hands on her hips, tapping one toe. “Okay, I give I said. I'll be good. Shutting up now.”
“You'd better,” she mock growled. He nodded in mock earnest, his face the picture of innocence. Her eyes gleamed in triumph, ignoring the snickers from the audience. “It takes a couple women to teach him that,” Cookie said, hands still on her hips as she turned to the captain and then the others. She gave the captain and Sprite a wink. He snorted. There were some more chuckles from the audience. “Who wants desert?” The steward asked, turning to the room at large.
The admiral nodded and raised a hand.
“Are you going to behave?” Cookie demanded, lips puckering in a teasing smile as she shook a finger at him.
“Yes, ma'am,” he said meekly. That got another chuckle. He shook his head as the cook retreated. “Hey, if you've tasted her pastries, you'd be on your best behavior too. In fact you'd better be,” he mock growled, glowering at the group. “Quit snickering. I don't want to be in any more trouble than I already am thank you,” he said to more laughter. It felt good to hear it, to feel the familiar warmth, the lightening of the air as tension was released.
...*...*...*...*...
As he sat there, relaxing after the large meal the admiral remembered having a steward. Actually several over the decades from when he'd been a ship's captain through some of the phases when he had been a flag officer. More than one had been killed in battle even before the Xeno war had started. Two had been maimed; his eyes closed as he felt guilt over that. It bothered him, to see people who served with him get hurt. Sometimes he wished they'd assigned mechs or AI to do the job. But one could get attached to them just as easily. He shook his head. Consider Sprite he reminded himself.
He wouldn't know what to do with himself if she had another breakdown or was destroyed. She wasn't just a subordinate, she was a confidant, a loyal friend, and yes, someone he knew could get the job done as a partner.
“Would you be need anything else, Admiral?” the steward asked softly from behind him.
His eyes opened. “No, you stuffed me,” he said, patting his belly. “I'm glad I've got implants, otherwise I'd explode,” he said.
She sniffed. “Tisn't anything one can't do.”
“Smother them in kindness and love. The way to a man's heart is through is stomach,” Sprite teased in the admiral's ear.
“Well, something's eating at you. Out with it,” the woman said, hands on her hips.
The admiral snorted as he turned enough to face her. He had to admit, he liked her take charge blunt attitude. “Do you understand what could happen to you here? That you could get hurt? Die, Mrs. Garrett?” The admiral asked. “I don't want to see that happen to you. You are a good person. You don't deserve it,” he said as he tried to warn her.
She waved such considerations off. “Everyone owes the spirits of space a death. It'll come when it comes,” she said simply. He nodded at the wisdom of that statement. “I'm not going anywhere unless you do. Here I know I can make a difference, even if it is a small one. And small things can add up over time.”
“It is a hard lonely life,” he warned her. “For the both of us,” he said, making a face as he got to his feet.
“If I can take some of the stress off you, I will,” she said loyally. “I think it is important. It is my life,” she insisted, eyes flashing as she jutted her chin out at him.
“Okay.” He smiled slightly. “I do admit you've livened things up a bit, made things ... more interesting. And the commander was right.”
She eyed him with scant favor. “That you need a keeper?”
“I am an adult, I can manage some things,” the admiral said with some dignity and asperity. The cook pouted enough to make him relent. “But I do admit, having you around helping out has helped me to focus on the larger picture a bit more. I don't have to worry about some things sometimes.”
“You handle the big picture. I'll take care of the little things. Capisce?” she asked, holding out a hand.
He nodded slowly, lips quivering in another smile as he shook her hand. Apparently he now had more than one partner to go through this life he thought. He hoped he could live up to their expectations, as well as his own.
...*...*...*...*...
Captain Ssri'allth put in a call to an old friend. They'd served together since the battle of Pyrax, he was pretty sure she'd answer the call ... even if she was all high and mighty these days. Naomi took the call with a grin. “Calling to gripe?”
“No, wondering when I'm going to get mine actually, the Naga replied over the tachyon link.
Naomi raised an eyebrow. “What, Hecate isn't good enough for you anymore?”
“She's a nice ship, but I'm ready to trade up,” the captain admitted. “How in Murphy's name did lady luck shine your way so well?” he demanded.
“Just lucky I guess,” Naomi preened. “I was at the right place at the right time,” she said.
“I see. Do you know how long the admiral plans to remain in system?”
“No idea,” Naomi replied, shaking her head. She knew practically everyone would be asking that question. She didn't even know. “From what I understand he's here to stay. Or at least for a while. How long is anyone's guess. I suppose it depends on the politicians,” she said with a grimace.
“True,” the Naga replied. “Still not hitting the bar scene?”
Naomi snorted. “You know I'm married. I'm a happily married woman with kids.”
“Ah, tasty,” the Naga replied.
“Stay away from my kids,” Naomi growled.
“Just kidding. You humans are easy to tease.”
“You predators are a little hard to read when you are kidding or not,” Naomi retorted. “All those sharp teeth and claws. Stalking about and the bad rep.” Not to mention the occasional smell of blood and odd bits of flesh you leave between your teeth to intimidate others she thought.
“It makes it more fun. Care for a match?” He asked with a roll of his upper eyes.
“I'm not doing anything right now. You really want to go up against Maine with your little toy boat? I'll be picking the paint out of Maine's teeth for weeks,” she teased.
“Not now, the link can't support it. I will be inbound for a brief resupply and leave for the crew in a few days. I think I can manage a couple of matches when we're in orbit if you are up to the challenge.”
“Now you have my interest. How are you going to handle a battlecruiser with a frigate?”
“Ever heard of the old Earth story of David and Goliath?” The Naga clacked. Naomi snorted. He was delusional if he thought his little ship could take out her's. “And I didn't say I'd make it easy. Or fight fair.”
Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “Okay, forewarned is forearmed. We'll do it. Name the time and place.”
“Stakes?”
“Hmm ...” Naomi tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Dinner at the best steak house in capital city. Best two out of three.”
“You're on. I'm going to win that bet, Captain.”
“You just keep thinking that,” Naomi replied with a smile. “You may be small and viscous but that just means I'll have to be careful on how I step on you,” she said firmly.
...*...*...*...*...
“How goes it, Chief?” The admiral asked, looking at Lieutenant Li as he went out to stretch his legs. After such a large meal he needed to walk some of it off. Or he was just restless.
The lieutenant looked around in confusion then shook himself. He smiled slightly. “Sorry sir, still getting used to that,” he admitted.
The admiral chuckled softly. “It comes in time. What are you working on?”
“A problem. We've got some magnetic bleed to deal with. Magnetic interference from the EPS conduit going to the hyperdrive is picking up interference or is interfering with the systems on deck 3 and 4 sir,” he explained.
“I thought we solved that?” The admiral asked, pausing as he cocked his head. “The grav emitters have to be far enough from the eps conduits to prevent bleed, the same for electronics. I can take a look I suppose. I designed this ship,” he frowned thoughtfully.
“Oh, it's not here sir!” the engineer said, hand up. “It's on Cutlass. I had a free moment so I decided to do a bit of moonlighting. All the engineers are taking a stab at it since it's a problem. And since the ship is so old ...” he shook his head.
The admiral nodded. Cutlass had originally been a cruiser during her heyday. That was over a thousand years ago. She'd been re-designated as a destroyer a century before he'd been born. She had most likely been a museum piece that had been pressed into desperate service during the Xeno war somewhere.
“She needs a complete overhaul. Or well, I hate to say this, but since you're building new ships soon ...” Li hunched his shoulders.
“Sent to the breakers and scrapped? Unfortunately we need every hull we can get. She may be a turtle but she is our turtle. We'll just have to figure it out,” the admiral said. He was tempted to sick Proteus on the project but the AI was already tasked out with helping Sindri set up the yard with Sprite and the other team members. He was processing at nearly 97 percent capacity, unheard of for so long with the hive mind AI.
“Check the corridor width. Also the mag fields from each of the EPS conduits. Either Kinja's people will have to swap out smaller thinner grav emitter plates in those areas or they'll have to relocate that EPS conduit further away from where it is interfering with things.”
“That's interesting sir. I don't think anyone thought of that. I'm not sure it's doable with the ship's structural bracing.”
“She might get away with moving the EPS conduit up. If it's off the deck midline in the corridor it will lessen any interference with the gra
v plates and any electronics. If it is too high though it'll interfere with the grav plates in the deck above.”
“Tricky sir,” the lieutenant replied with a solemn nod. “I'll pass along those recommendations sir. Thank you.”
“No problem,” the admiral said, nodding again. “Good luck with it,” he said and then continued on his way.
...*...*...*...*...
Sprite got a second and then third message from April. “She's nothing if not persistent,” the AI said to Clio as they talked. “I take it Miss O'Neill has settled in on the station well?” She asked.
“You need to be careful with her,” the station AI replied.
“Oh?”
“Yes. Apparently she isn't all she appears to be,” the AI replied with a hint of warning in her tone.
“Oh,” Sprite said in an entirely different tone.
Clio sent her an encrypted file and then the key in a separate file. “I wouldn't send you this but you should know. I caught this on video near one of the power rooms I manage and sent it to the sheriff among other people,” she warned.
Sprite opened the video file. “Oh. Oh dear,” Sprite murmured as she watched the video on fast forward. Apparently Miss O'Neill had fallen in with the wrong crowd. Miss O'Neill had made a contact with someone in the underworld. The sheriff didn't have audio, only video, but it was enough to raise suspicions.
The sheriff had decided to watch her closely to see where it led. The answer was not good Sprite thought. He had uncovered a network of underground contacts and underworld connections the foreign woman had tapped into, one she easily blended into overtime. One he barely knew had existed despite his decades in law enforcement. So far he had wisely left them alone and just monitored them and mapped their network. Sprite was concerned about what he was going to do from there. Clio didn't know.
If the sheriff was smart, he'd form a small task force, one tightly secured and compartmentalized since some of the ties had been traced to political circles as well. If he was true to historical standard he would map this ... mob, organized crime network, get as much incriminating information on them from their own words and deed, then take them down all at once. She judged the sheriff was indeed a smart man.