Vosteros clearly wasn't happy about the idea that an armed boarding party was going to be brought on his ship. But he realized that he needed this transaction with Eamonn if his ship was ever going to fly again. He knew he would be going into debt to fix up his ship, but Eamonn was sure that Vosteros wasn't aware of just how far into debt he was going to be. It would end up being mutually beneficial, but Vosteros probably wouldn't see it that way, at least at first.
The trip back over to the Emilia Walker was less cordial this time. Captain Vosteros kept to himself, while Tamara and her team simply sat and waited. They hadn't brought any replacement parts with them seeing as how they didn't know what was needed. They knew life support would need a thorough going over, but until they got a good look at it, they didn't know what would be needed. They did bring along a trio of cleaner bots, rented by Vosteros, after Tamara had made a comment about the smell. The Captain had generously offered the bots and Vosteros had jumped at the opportunity. They'd all seen his face when he had breathed the air aboard Grania Estelle and had seen that he knew there was a marked difference.
Within minutes, the shuttle docked with the freighter and the hatch showed green lights, indicating a good seal. Vosteros pulled open the hatch and stepped aboard. Tamara and the others didn't follow, but watched from beyond the hatch.
Coolidge was back, angry at first, but then perked up when he saw it was his captain. "Skipper. I chased off those bums who came on board before. Up to no good they were."
Vosteros came up to the man and gave him a backhanded slap across the face. A surprising move; Tamara had expected a punch. But it seemed the strike got his point across, like a father disciplining an unruly adult son.
"What is wrong with you?" the Captain hissed. He grabbed a fistful of the man's ship suit, pulling his thin face close to the other man. "I am trying to get my ship up and running again and you chase away the people who are willing and able to do that!"
"But..." Coolidge sputtered, clearly stunned by events. "But... Skipper!"
"Don't say anything," Vosteros said harshly. "I've a right mind to throw you out an airlock and be done with you. I cannot afford to have crewmen on my ship who do not pull their own weight. Now," he said, releasing him, "the engineering team from the Grania Estelle has returned. You will show them every courtesy while they were here and you will allow them access to everything. If there is something you have a question about, take out your communicator and call me. I cannot afford to waste any more time. Do you understand?"
The man retained a truculent expression, as though he was pouting at being spoken to like this. He didn't answer.
"That's it. As of this moment, all your rank and privileges are gone. You are now on my shit list and you can now refer to yourself as Wiper Coolidge." He smiled and even Tamara blinked at the menace. "In fact, I think Wiper is going to be your new name from now on. Because I don't think I can ever see a time where you get yourself off my shit list. Now, these people are coming aboard and you are going to assist. And I'm not going to ask."
Vosteros turned away from the completely cowed and broken crewmember. It looked as though Wiper Coolidge was about to cry. The Captain came back to the hatch of the shuttle. "I'm sorry you had to witness that. Personnel issues."
Tamara nodded. "Of course, Captain. I completely understand. Permission to come aboard?"
He gave her a large smile, though it didn't reach his eyes, and extended his arms in a welcoming gesture. "Of course! Of course! Please come aboard. I know there is a lot of work to be done. And do you think you could do something about the smell? You don't notice it after a while, but when you've been gone and come back its particularly bad."
"Certainly, Captain. It’s a top priority. In fact, Pip, get one of those bots cleaning. It'll help." The man nodded, pulling up his datapad and entering a few commands. One of the dinner plate sized bots warbled and hummed as it floated swiftly past the group, immediately going to work on the airlock, while the other two stayed with Pip. "All right kids," she said. "Attempt number two. Though I think this one is going to go more as planned." They all chuckled and entered the ship.
The Emilia Walker was a far different design than the Grania Estelle. As a tramp freighter, it wasn't designed with a huge crew in mind, and space was at a premium. Just beyond the airlock was a decent sized compartment which looked like a small cargo area. Compared to the massive holds on the bulk freighter, this looked as though someone had stacked pallets, crates and barrels in someone's quarters. It was about the size of two sets of quarters aboard the Grania Estelle, with the walls knocked out. A narrow corridor between the crates of cargo was available to move through.
There wasn't anything of particular interest in that room, but Tamara had Victor stop and give the room a thorough scan anyway. They were going to do a complete survey and that meant scanning every room. Vosteros moved through, motioning them all to follow. "Come along," he urged. "Wiper Coolidge here will escort you."
The two security guards followed along with the tech team, looking stern and their eyes sweeping the area for threats. They didn't seem to find any, no booby traps, automated defenses, or crewmembers with concealed (or openly displayed) weapons. It didn't cause them to relax their vigilance, but a degree of tension seemed to evaporate.
The entire team looked over the ship as they walked, running their scanners and checking things as they moved. They all were concerned by the readings they were seeing. Hell, just by using their eyes they could see things that were concerning. Pipes that were leaking. Wires and cables that were hanging from the ceiling. Trash and other detritus littered the deck, the tables, and there was even a coffee cup wedged in between two pipes in the overhead.
"How the hell do they do anything on this garbage pile?" Igraine asked in an undertone. No one answered. No one had any good idea.
"All right. Pip, Igraine, you two head to life support, bring one of the bots with you. I'm sure it could use a good scrubbing. Run the finest grained scan that you can. I'm sure it's a mess." Tamara nodded to them and they turned and walked off. "Rory, you and Victor head to the engineering spaces. See how they're progressing in with repairs there. I saw on my flyby that the sublights are in pieces."
"On it, Boss," Rory replied, tugging on Victor's sleeve. The two walked away.
"That leaves you and me," Mairi replied.
"Yes it does. We're off to the bridge for the moment. I'd like to get started on the software cleanse. It'll only help."
“Wait,” Mairi said. “What about the third bot?”
Tamara grimaced. “Oh, that’s coming with us to the bridge. I don’t want to be sitting in a filthy space running software cleaning and patches. Besides, I want it to make sure all the areas in there are clear. I don’t need any fires or shorts in the circuitry.”
Mairi nodded. “Makes sense.” She tucked on curl of dark hair back over her ear. Then she smiled wickedly. “But what’s the real reason?”
Tamara smirked. “Those are the real reasons. But a very close auxiliary reason is that I’m hoping that it will help with the smell. The cockpit on a ship this big isn’t going to be huge. I’d be surprised if it can hold more than four stations. And I imagine it’s going to be very tight.”
Mairi chuckled. But then her face fell. “Ugh. I haven’t thought of that. I’m not looking forward to sitting in a closet with three other people.”
“Can’t say I am either, Mairi,” Tamara commented as they continued their walk through the ship.
After an hour’s work, Tamara’s virus eaters were on the attack. Only about 12 percent of the ship’s software had been cleaned, but it was a work in progress. In the meantime, she had repaired four logic faults, seven conflicts and had begun programming a firewall to keep any new viruses out. Finally, she leaned back in the sensor station chair and rubbed her face with her hands. Mairi was in the next seat, running checks on the main systems, getting a full update on what was actually working from a software perspective.
The bridge
was, predictably, cramped. There were four stations: helm, sensors, astrogation and engineering. There was barely enough room to move and even with just two people there it was claustrophobic. That brought up another issue, one that Mairi was vocal enough to point out.
“Why are we allowed to be alone in here?” she asked, looking over at Tamara.
The other woman smiled. “We aren’t, actually. You’ve been pretty absorbed, so I’m not surprised you didn’t notice the Captain poking his head in here every five minutes or so.”
Mairi blinked, looking to the cockpit door. “Really?”
Tamara nodded. “Yup. He’s very quiet and I can tell that it’s killing him waiting. I think I’ll put him out of his misery.” She leaned backward. “Captain? Do you have a moment?”
And instant later, the gaunt man appeared in the hatchway, a desperately hopeful look on his face. “You have something?”
“Finally?” another voice said from behind him, scorn clear in the tone.
“We are approximately…” she checked her datapad, “fourteen percent complete with the full virus cleanup. Once that’s done, we can work on speed of your systems. I’ve corrected a few errors now, but I’m still working on it. But just with what we’ve done so far, your systems will already be noticeably better.”
“I don’t know what to say,” he said, flabbergasted.
“I know what I’d say,” the second voice replied.
“Shut your mouth, Zamir,” the Captain snapped. The other man, a short, squat man with a Teyrogian accent with gray hair and about five days of beard growth, threw up his hands in disgust. He turned away and stormed off.
Tamara raised an eyebrow. “Forgive me for saying, Captain, but it looks as though your crew is very unhappy to have us here.”
He sighed. “Let me ask you this, Miss Samair…”
“Tamara, please.”
“Tamara then. If you were on a ship that was in need of serious repair, would you be happy to need some outsider to come in and do the job that you and your own teams could not?”
She took in a deep breath and then let it out, instantly regretting it as she sucked in more of the rancid air. The cleaner bot had been doing its thing, but it still had a ways to go to finish the cockpit and that did nothing about the funk wafting in from the outer compartment. “Put like that, no I wouldn’t. But, I’m here, my team is here. We want to help. Our Captain wants to work with you.” She smiled gently. “I don’t want to step on your toes, Captain, but in all honestly…” She trailed off.
“But…?” he asked, the look on his face showing he suspected where she was leading.
“But,” she repeated, “Without our help, do you think that you could get this baby flying?”
He sighed heavily. “Very to the point, Tamara.”
“I don’t believe in the comfortable lie, Captain. And besides, this is a Navrot Yards built, Sequim-352 class light freighter. Yeah, she’s seen a lot of wear and tear and a lot of light years, but that’s no reason to throw her away. She’s a beautiful machine, Captain.” Her smile caused his lips to turn up at the corners. “I’m a big fan of restoration. I’ve been helping out on the Grania Estelle, I’ve rebuilt my own starfighter and I want to help you here with the Emilia Walker.”
Her grin was infectious. “You pitch a good sale, Miss Samair. I don’t know how many of the repairs that I can afford, but you’re right. I want my baby to fly again.”
She laughed. “I think we can manage that. The biggest problem I see on first glance is preventative maintenance. I need to give an honest appraisal, Captain. One that you might not like to hear.” Mairi tried very hard to look as small as possible. This was supposed to be a somewhat private conversation among the two of them, but she was needed to keep doing her job on the ship’s systems.
He shrugged. “I dislike my ship not functioning more. Go on.”
“The ship is filthy, Captain. And the smell, well, I saw your reaction when you stepped on board our ship. You noticed a clear difference.”
He nodded, humiliation clear on his face.
“Well, it’s an easy fix, though it will take discipline.” She looked him straight in the eye. “You just have to keep to a regular cleaning schedule. And,” Tamara added, pointing to the bot that was floating under the pilot’s console, “invest in a couple of these. They do a ton of work. You just need to make sure you empty out the bin when it gets full.”
Vosteros nodded, as though he was slowly coming to understand.
“But that’s not the only thing,” she added. “I’ve got a couple of my team working on your life support systems. I think there’s quite a lot of work in there that needs to be done as well. But with a combination of keeping the systems maintained and the place clean, you’ll get rid of that funk.”
“It might make my ship a place that my crew will actually want to work, as opposed to a place they’re trapped on for weeks at a time,” he mused.
She only nodded. “Talk to Captain Eamonn and his cargo specialist. They’ll sort you out.”
It took about a day to get the whole engineering survey completed. Tamara and her team gathered in the main cargo bay along with the ship’s crew. The cargo bay was selected because it was nearly empty and it was the only space on the ship large enough to fit that many people. The Emilia Walker boasted three bays, two small lateral bays and the large bay in the center. The berthing spaces where the entire crew (including the Captain) slept, were forward of the cargo areas. The crew lounge was located above the cargo areas, while the engineering spaces were located to the rear and above the main cargo bay, which left a large empty space below for cargo doors. The ship looked as though it had a low belly hanging underneath. The cockpit was on the lower level, the most forward part of the ship.
“Miss Samair,” Captain Vosteros said formally. “I believe you have your report. If you would please?”
There were quiet grumbles among the crew. They still weren’t happy about the bringing in of another ship’s engineering team to do their jobs. The entirely male crew was rather displeased by the fact that this particular team was led by a woman with a team that was half female. Oh, the boys had no problem with women. On their brief liberty trips to Folston, they would all hang out in bars, brothels and other such places to find a bit of female companionship. But it was certainly… emasculating… to have a group of women and their male attendants to come aboard their ship and tell them what was wrong. Even worse was that these women seemed quite competent.
“Well, the cleaner bots that you rented have done their magic through about twenty percent of the interior of the ship,” Tamara began. And it had helped. The smell had diminished , but only slightly. “We’ve completed the software cleaning and the patches and upgrades. When you get onto the ship’s computers again, you’ll find a marked improvement. You’ll need to observe a much more…” She paused, trying to find the word.
“Disciplined,” Igraine put in helpfully.
Tamara frowned. “Yes, thank you. A much more disciplined regimen when dealing with the computers. The reason they were so infested with viruses was because absolutely anything got uploaded. Things that were infected with viruses and other such things got into the system which started to damage or slow down the processing speed.” She could tell she was losing her already thin hold on her audience. So she changed tack.
“All right,” she said, a bit louder. “This crew is a disgrace. Captain Vosteros has very wisely come to my captain for assistance because the group of layabouts and ingrates on board this tub clearly don’t have the stones or the brains to get the job done.” That got their attention. They were all glaring at her now and a low growl resounded about the bay. Her own team was looking about nervously. Her security guards shifted, loosened their sidearms in the holsters.
“So, some life from this crew at last,” Tamara replied defiantly, looking from one man to the next. She was baiting them and she knew it was a dangerous tactic but it was the only one that seeme
d to be working. And besides, she’d done this before. The labor strike a year before her arrest. Senior officers officers’ conferences berating her for schedule slippages in the shipyards, demanding more productivity. Sitting in the courtroom while attorneys and witnesses and the members picked apart her life. Compared to that, these men were little puppies.
“Now, I have a repair and maintenance list a kilometer long. Your Captain is going to trade for parts from the Grania Estelle and my team has been assigned to assist in the installation and testing of those components. Now, you all have two choices. You can get over yourselves, buckle down and roll up your sleeves and get to work with my team to bring the ship up to snuff. Or… you can act like the sniveling pack of worms I’m seeing before me. In which case, while my Captain might still sell you the equipment, I will recommend that all of you receive no assistance from our crew. You can figure out how to fix this ship and good luck to you.” She crossed her arms under her breasts, her confident glare sweeping over all of them.
“So it’s put up or shut up time, gentlemen. We have to report back to the Grania Estelle.” She turned to Vosteros. “Captain, thank you for your time and assistance. Please contact our ship when you and your crew have made their decision. We’ll need to report back there to gather up proper tools and the first round of parts anyway, assuming you come to a consensus.”
“Well, Miss Samair…” he began.
But Tamara cut him off. “Talk it over, Captain. I don’t want to be looking over my shoulder the whole time we are here. Get in touch once you have a decision.” She nodded her head in the direction of the airlock to the rest of her team, all of whom turned and headed out. Without a look at them, Tamara deliberately turned her back on the Emilia Walker’s crew and walked briskly to the shuttle. Her implants were picking up aggressive noises from the men behind her, but no one was rushing at them.
The others got into the shuttle and Tamara followed, closing the hatch behind her and sealing the shuttle hatch behind her.
Pursue the Past: Samair in Argos: Book 1 Page 28