Tamara worked with Turan to fix up the scar tissue on her hand, ear and face. As she suspected, she needed to have the skin abraded and then a dunk in a regeneration tank. Thankfully, Turan had kept up repairs on the sickbay equipment and Tamara had made sure to go over all the equipment before they started. Turan was ecstatic that it was finally his turn to have an engineer make repairs to his domain.
A dunk in the regen tank was never pleasant. Normally, when someone was put into the tank, it was because they had sustained serious, life-threatening injury. Other times, like now, when the subject was otherwise healthy but was being stuck in the tank for repair. The treatment would require two twelve hour sessions in the tank, with a tube in her mouth, plugs in her nose and stark naked, floating in regenerative fluid. While none of those things sound very comfortable, those weren’t the worst parts. The worst part was the boredom. Floating in the goop for twelve straight hours with nothing to do could probably drive someone mad.
Thankfully, Tamara had some advantages that others in the crew did not. Using her implants, she was able to listen to music, play games, read books. She tried to have conversations with Stella on her implants, but she wasn’t able to speak because of the breathing tube in her mouth. The AI dropped in on her every so often, but usually wouldn’t do much more than make her presence known and then disappear from Tamara’s HUD. Tamara tried to sleep as much as possible, just to be done with this ordeal as quickly as possible.
But finally, it was over and Turan was decanting her from the tank for the last time. She had little issue with the nakedness, being in the Navy, there was little expectation of privacy, certainly in the lower ranks and especially in the Starfighter Corps. In a world where you might be expected to strip out of your ship suit or coveralls and get into a skinsuit with all the plumbing connections (and be expected to do so in a hurry as their might be a hull breach) the squeamishness and taboo of being naked around other people evaporated quickly.
Based on the looks the sickbay attendants (male and female) were giving her as she casually padded barefoot across the room, she guessed that perhaps society might have regressed a bit. She had never been accused of being gorgeous, though the looks the males were giving her it would make one think that they had never seen a naked woman before.
The Captain arrived as she was pulling on her ship suit. “Moxie, a marked improvement,” he said, looking her over with a critical eye.
“What would that be, Captain?” she teased. “The disappearance of the scars or the lack of clothes?”
To her great surprise, he chuckled. Was that nervousness in his voice? “The scars. You’re a handsome woman, Moxie.”
She nodded. “Thank you, Captain,” she said, zipping up her ship suit. She gingerly touched her chin and lips where the skin was once again smooth. “You were right; I should have done this a while ago.”
“You don’t seem to be particularly possessed of a great deal of vanity,” he noted.
Tamara shrugged. “I’m not, to be honest. The scars weren’t hindering me. In fact, when I first came on board, I was more concerned that I might get raped. The scars acted as a bit of a deterrent.”
“I told you before, I’m not into scars.”
“You are hardly the only male on board, Captain,” she pointed out.
“True,” he acknowledged. “But when we started our business relationship, I made it known among the crew that you were off limits. No one would have touched you.”
Her eyebrows raised in surprise. “I appreciate that, Captain. And I have to say, I wondered why I hardly had anyone speaking to me in a social setting. Made me wonder if I’d completely lost my sex appeal.”
“Are you now on the prowl?” he teased.
She gave him a look. “Nothing has changed, Captain.”
“Nor for me,” he replied. “Taja would gut me with a dull knife if I started sleeping around, Captain or no Captain.”
“And you’d deserve it,” Tamara commented. “She’s a good woman.”
The Captain nodded, his face completely serious. ‘Now, talk to me about these rail guns you promised.”
“You’d have to talk to the Chief, Captain. He’s the one who’s been working on it. But I’ve got to tell you, I think it might take a little while. We need to plan it out. I’ve never installed military-grade weaponry into a civilian ship before, much less a freighter that was never designed for it. But we’ve got other projects going on as well. Ka’Xarian has been working on a hydroponics bay in two of the compartments on deck three.”
“Yes, I know about that. Problem is, we don’t have anyone who knows how to work with plants,” he said a bit sourly. “He’s wasting all that time and effort on something that isn’t going to work.”
Tamara chuckled. “That’s not a serious problem, Captain. See if you can recruit someone when we get to Hecate.”
He nodded. “Something to look into. I’m just wondering if we’re going to get screwed on that load of gadolinium.”
Now it was Tamara’s turn to shrug as they started to leave sickbay. “Thanks, Turan!” she said, waving. The Guura raised one hand in recognition, but didn’t reply. “Won’t be an entire loss if they don’t want it. We’ll need it to overhaul the hyperdrive in a while. Could also use it to build a new drive for another ship.”
The Captain laughed as they walked down the passage. “You want to build a new ship?”
She shook her head. “Not particularly, but what I meant was if there happened to be another ship and poor crew with a failing hyperdrive, it would be good to have the materials on hand to build another one. And profitable,” she said with a sidelong glance.
He pursed his lips, thinking, clearly liking the idea. “I think you might have an idea here, Moxie.” Then he grimaced. “Sadly, I’ve already informed the commerce authorities that we have the shipment.”
“What do they want it for?” she asked. “Do they have their own ships?”
He nodded. “Yeah, they’re under contract with a consortium to build a ship.”
“What kind of ship?”
“Military,” he shrugged.
She raised an eyebrow, moving to the side as a crewman walked the other way, carrying a plastic tote in his arms. “A consortium wants a warship and you don’t see a problem with this?”
“Why should I?” he asked, unconcerned. “There are warships everywhere, Moxie. The Republic doesn’t care about Independent space. Piracy is rampant, as we found out at Instow. If a few corporations or a planet want to build a warship, why should we be bothered by this?”
“And if they decide to turn the warship’s guns on their neighbors?”
“I don’t know what to tell you, Moxie. War is good for business.”
“You’d fly this ship, your baby, through a warzone?” Tamara clearly didn’t believe that.
“Every time we’re in normal space for more than a few hours we are in a warzone, Moxie,” he reminded her. “If it isn’t belligerent Republic ships demanding we heave to for inspection, its pirates shooting us up and stealing cargo and crewmates. If a few systems have a decent warship that discourages the nastier elements to think twice, I think we might actually start having safer spacelanes out here.”
She sighed. She couldn’t really argue with that, though it went against the grain to simply hand military technology to civilians. Not that it was something completely unheard of. Even back in her day, before the fighting between the Republic and Federation heated up, there were civilian contractors using military equipment. She’d never approved of that, but she understood that the Navy couldn’t be everywhere, what with budget and manpower restrictions. But she suspected there was a flaw in his logic. Yes, things, might be safer with independent warships around, but what if someone decided that they might like to carve out their own little empire? She also knew that until that flaw slapped him in the face, it was unlikely she was going to convince him of that.
The trip into Hecate was remarkably quick. As the Grania
Estelle moved in system, the sensors picked up a great deal of space traffic. By “great deal” it meant that there was any space traffic. In many of the systems in what was now called Independent space, there were only a handful of ships traveling around, and here, they could see two ships in orbit, as well as a building slip, with a group of shuttles going up and down from the planet to the ships and the construction yard.
“This place is bustling,” the Captain commented as they drew closer.
“Yes, Captain,” George commented. “That building slip has a ship inside, which looks to be nearly completed.”
“What kind of ship?”
“Nothing that the sensors recognize. I think it might be a new design,” he replied.
“Stella?” he asked.
“Nothing I recognize either, Captain,” she admitted, her image appearing on the left side of the display. “Though my data banks have no more information than the ship. In fact, my data banks are the same as the ones in the ship, so I don’t have more info. At this range, the sensors can’t really pick out details, but based on the size of the hull in that building slip I would say that the ship is probably a light cruiser. Fast and agile, decent armament, lightly armored.”
“Very dangerous, in other words,” the Captain replied.
The AI nodded. “Certainly to merchant shipping. Normally it’s used as a screening element for larger capital ships.”
“And we’re bringing in materials for their hyperdrive.” The Captain frowned. “Suddenly, Moxie’s words of caution are making more sense now than before.”
Once they reached orbit, the merchant commissioner called up to the ship, demanding to know their business.
“This is the Grania Estelle, recently out of Folston. We are here to deliver the load of gadolinium originally scheduled nine months ago,” Serinda informed them.
“What? You have it!” the male voice on the other end demanded, stunned. “What the hell took you so long?”
“We only came to Folston two months ago, sir,” she replied. “We had no knowledge of any previous deals to ship the cargo here until we were just about to leave about a month ago.”
“Well, whatever. It’s finally here! We can get the Ganges launched and get the consortium off my back.”
“Very well, sir,” she answered. “We await your cargo shuttle and your delegation to arrive to arrange payment and transfer of the goods.”
“Yes! Yes, we’ll be up there in thirty minutes.” The line ended.
“Excitable fellow,” Serinda muttered.
“If this consortium is anything like him, I can imagine they’ve been pestering him and his people for months about getting the materials they need to finish the ship,” the Captain said. “I’m sure they’re even more anxious to get a piece of hardware like that out of the slip and into space where it can actually do some good.” He looked over the sensor readings as well as the video footage. “Would you look at that?”
“You like that thing, Captain?” Serinda asked, wrinkling her nose.
He glanced over at her. “You don’t?”
She shrugged. “Not really. It’s all sleek, but if you look closer, it’s clear they didn’t make it for aesthetics sake. Look, you can see ugly welds, mismatched colors on the hull plating, off the shelf components, especially in the communications array forward, but then new and custom stuff in the weapons amidships.” She stopped, embarrassed as everyone on the bridge was looking at her.
The Captain chuckled. “Well, Serinda, I never knew you were such a warship snob.” The rest of the bridge crew snickered.
She sniffed. “Maybe I am. I think that if you’re going to make a warship like that then you should do it right. Shouldn’t you want your lethal killing machines to inspire awe and fear in your enemies? Not have them scan the ship and bust out laughing because they think you built it on the cheap?”
“Not only a snob, but a saleswoman,” George said in an undertone.
“I’ve a mind to come over there and slap your face, George Miller,” she threatened, but there was humor in her eyes.
He held up his hands in surrender. Serinda turned her nose up at him, then smiled.
“You do make a good point there, Serinda,” the Captain pointed out. “Perhaps the owners of that ship are hoping that the appropriate levels of fear and awe will be achieved by the strength of her guns.”
“I guess,” she muttered.
“Besides,” he went on, “I suppose they could have made it that way hoping their enemies will underestimate them, then get in for a knockout punch.” Then he grimaced. “Yeah, I don’t really believe that either. Still, if it’s as fast and with as strong of weapons as it looks like, I know I don’t want to mess with them.” Then he smiled as an idea hit him. “Stella?”
The AI appeared on the screen in front of him. “Yes, Captain?”
“Tell Moxie that I want her out in her fighter. Do one of those rude flybys I know she likes doing.”
The AI nodded, then disappeared.
“We might get a little more of a look at her guts,” he said, a trifle smug. “And satisfy Serinda’s aesthetic tastes.”
Chapter 14
“Oh, this is just splendid!” the fat little man said, clapping his hands together in delight. “We’ve been waiting months for this material. Do you realize? Months! I can’t express to you how excellent this is having this material arrive. We can finally get it to the Ganges and get the ship completed. I’ve been speaking to management to try and figure out some sort of alternate solution to getting the gadolinium from Folston, but no one seemed to have a way of solving this particular problem. Gadolinium is pretty rare, as you know.”
Taja smiled tiredly as the bilious little administrator yammered on. “We are very happy we could help, sir. As soon as the payment is transferred to us, we’ll be happy to release the goods to you.”
The man eyed her suspiciously, the delight immediately gone. “Are you trying to hold our shipment hostage? You signed a contract and you are eight months late!”
Taja smiled now with some real heat behind her eyes. “Oh, no, sir, I am not. I am more than happy to deliver the shipment the instant the money is in my hot little hands. Or accounts.”
“You delivered it late! There is a massive penalty involved!” he said, smug. He held up a datapad with the contract on it.
Taja’s smile didn’t slip one nanometer. “Yes, sir, that is the original contract that you had with the miners on Folston. However, that is not the one that we signed with the warehouse people in Folston. This is,” she said, holding out her own datapad with the contract on it.
The man snatched the datapad from her and perused the text. “This has been altered!” he crowed triumphantly.
“Of course it has,” Taja replied. “We were not the original shippers. We were not going to absorb an eight-month old penalty. We renegotiated with the people at Folston to remove that penalty, though we were willing to deal with a ten percent reduction in payment amount. We will adhere to the letter of this contract,” she said, pointing to her own datapad.
The man spluttered. “This is unacceptable! This shipment was under contract to be here eight months ago! Folston doesn’t have the authority to change the contract.” He looked completely sure of that fact.
“Very well,” Taja replied, taking back her personal computer from the Hecate man. “Then once our other business is complete, the Grania Estelle will be leaving the system with the gadolinium on board.”
Now it was the man’s turn to look upset. “No, in fact, young lady it will not. You are not going to cheat us out of our shipment and then try to fleece us in our own star system! I you insist on pushing this, I’m afraid I will have to suspend any groundside visits and no other trades will be happening with this ship. But we cannot allow you to leave with those materials. If necessary, we will launch the Ganges and take what is ours.”
Now she raised an eyebrow. “You have the authority to attack a peaceful ship with a cus
tomer’s property? I wonder how that consortium would feel about that.”
His grin was malevolent. “Oh, I think they should understand in this case. I mean, we have a ship that is holding property for ransom. The owners should be completely sympathetic to our cause.” He held up his datapad again. “Last chance for a reasonable solution.”
“I was just going to say the same thing to you,” she replied.
“Then our business here is completed.” He sighed, though it was clear he was pleased with this outcome. He turned on his heel and whistling, he returned to his shuttle in the boat bay. Under a minute later, the boxy shuttle roared out of the bay, scorching the deck and leaving the stink of exhaust fumes.
As soon as the shuttle hatch sealed, Taja was on her communicator. “Captain, we have a serious problem.”
“He did what?” the Captain demanded. They were in the wardroom, three minutes later.
“He cancelled all our barters, buying and selling,” Taja repeated. “He also said that we would not be allowed to leave the system with the shipment of gadolinium. And to top it off, they’re threatening to launch the cruiser to attack us and take the shipment.”
“This is unbelievable,” he replied. “And I suspect that they would be helping themselves to more than just the gadolinium. It’s a large load, but I’m sure that they will be taking quite a bit more than just that for their ‘trouble’.”
“I’m sure you’re right, Captain.” Taja looked worried. “So what do we do?”
“We need to get the status of the cruiser,” he told her. “Stella, what do our sensors show us?”
“Well, the Ganges is currently running on very low power, Captain,” she told him, appearing on the display at the edge of the wardroom table. “They’re showing no signs of getting underway at this time. I’d need more data to determine how quickly the ship will be able to get powered up and moving. Right now they’re still moored to the building slip.”
Pursue the Past: Samair in Argos: Book 1 Page 33