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13 Degrees of Separation

Page 7

by Hechtl, Chris

“Make it so helm, navigation,” the Captain said with an airy wave.

  “Aye aye Captain!” Shandra gleefully replied, getting set up.

  “What I do to keep people happy and on their toes,” the Captain grumbled softly.

  Empty system Beta 448c:

  Shandra dropped them perfectly into the jump point zone of B448c to Epsilon Triangula. Before she set course for their hidden cache the sensors picked up another ship with the neutrino detectors. They had set up the cache with the admiral over a year ago. He had been generous, building a lot of parts they would need to make another ship. The captain and purser had agitated to get moving before he had finished, so he'd given the engineering department a list to work on. They had faithfully followed that list.

  Warily they opened a channel. The ship was the Yellow Bird, an ancient medium freighter on her last legs. “Fancy running into you here,” the Captain of the Yellow Bird said over the radio.

  “And you as well. It's a small sector.”

  “Getting smaller by the minute it seems,” the Yellow Bird Captain replied a few minutes later. They exchanged news. The Io Captain warned them of the shenanigans over fuel they had run into on New Haven.

  “Eh, so what else is new? Grounders are always trying to jack up the price. They think we're doing the same.”

  “Because we are,” the Captain replied with a laugh.

  “Don't you just know it. So, do you have something to trade? I'd love to have a shot with you. Traditional toast, my treat Captain,” the Captain of the Yellow Bird said.

  The Captain snorted. “Fine then. You my friend are on. Us spacers need to stick together. I've got a crack engineering crew on board, and Io 11 has been... well, let's just say she's had a bit of a face lift.”

  “Oh?”

  “So, my crew can teach yours a thing or two if you're willing to spare the time,” she said.

  “Unfortunately I've got to get to Gaston in six or seven months.”

  “And with a bit of work and the right incentive they can get you there in three months,” the Captain said, smirking at the AI avatar. “And I'll even let you talk to my AI.”

  “You... you have an AI??”

  The Captain tipped her head to the AI. The AI pursed her lips. “This is Io of the Io 11, yes, I am the ship AI. I was restored by Fleet Admiral Irons over two years ago,” she said.

  “I... see. Io 11. You know, I had heard stories of you on New Texas, Proxima, and Avalon. Some strange goings on. A bit about this Admiral fellow you just mentioned.”

  “He's the real deal. Sleeper. He spent the better part of eighteen months with us and did a number on the ship. He ran my crew ragged but they're troopers.”

  “Sure,” the Yellow Bird Captain said finally. “Let's see what they've got,” he said.

  “Ah ahh Ah!” The Captain said, holding up a finger. “We haven't agreed on a price yet old friend.”

  “I knew there was a catch,” the other Captain grumbled. That got a smile from the Io bridge crew.

  “Why don't you see what they've done when we dock. In oh, Two days?”

  “That soon?”

  “He overhauled our engines too,” the Captain said wickedly.

  “Oh you are sooo on. See you in two.”

  “Io 11 out. For now,” the AI said, cutting the circuit.

  “Granddaughter, can you get those fighters you were playing without into space?”

  “Yes,” her granddaughter said thoughtfully. “But they aren't armed,” she said, making a face. The admiral had failed to mention that part. They'd restored the fighter with mostly off the shelf civilian parts. They had drives and sensors but lacked weapons and military grade equipment, which nagged at her.

  “Do it. Run a full flight prep first of course. Stick close to the ship. When we get close to docking, I'll probably want you to do it again.”

  “A show of force? It's an empty threat.”

  “A bit of a show of force, and they don't know that granddaughter,” the Captain said, shrugging. “If I really wanted to impress them I'd fire our guns,” she said.

  The younger woman nodded. “That can be arranged.”

  “No, I'd say that's overkill. We're not pirates. I am pretty sure they aren't either, but we'll keep an eye on things just the same,” the Captain said. Her crew nodded.

  <===^===>

  They came along side the Yellow Bird and then accepted a shuttle. The shuttle was ancient, an old but apparently still flyable Hawk. The Hawk was a civilian version of the Federation Navy's SkyHawk and WarHawk. It was a common craft in its day.

  The fighter met the shuttle out in space and then escorted it in to their number one boat bay. Then the Captains met. Captain Brown held up a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. The Io Captain cackled with laughter and waved to show him to her wardroom.

  Along the way the visitors looked about, staring at the ship. “You weren't kidding, she's like out of a holo of the past,” Captain Brown murmured.

  “We're hitting the upper octaves of Beta band now,” she said, not telling them just how fast they really were.

  “I am so envious,” he murmured. That got another laugh.

  They settled on a brisk trade. Yellow Bird had two shuttles that were no longer functional, along with another fighter and some odds and ends. Dorah accepted two new cats including a pregnant mini-cheetah. The Captain wasn't happy about it, but couldn't fend off the girl's puppy eyes. Her sigh of acquisition was all the girl needed.

  In exchange Faith's crew poured over the small freighter and did what they could. Tara kept a wary eye on things from within the engineering crew, but no conflicts came up. They also passed on all the Admiral's training videos, his blue prints, and fabricated tons of spares and parts for the Yellow Bird's crew. Just giving the ship's systems an overhaul had a subtle but Major impact on the ship.

  Io herself dived into the other ship's computer network, cleaning out the centuries of built up crap while passing on any tidbits to files for later retrieval. She made copies of the ship's log and notes and passed both on to the Io Purser and Captain.

  The Yellow Bird's crew were envious and a bit jealous of the Io and her crew. They exchanged stories of the Admiral. When Captain Brown found out that the Admiral was in Pyrax he made it a point of changing their itinerary to look the man up.

  A week after they came together the two ships parted ways. Yellow Bird moved out with a faster clip to her sublight drive, and if they had worked everything out as planned, would pick up three octaves in Alpha, more than making up for the lost time.

  <===^===>

  After the ship exited the system, Io 11 returned to her hiding spot. The Captain wasn't happy about the traffic. The crew wasn't either, but there was little they could do about it. Faith had them check the cache over carefully. When they were certain no one had tampered with it they got to work. They spent a day setting up the scaffolding and then began unloading the holds.

  Once the holds were cleared of structural components Vanessa champed at the bit to get back to Epsilon. The Captain however reined her in. Instead she let Faith and her crew do their thing.

  Faith set up an inflatable hab with the scaffolding, then they start putting the frame together. It was a Liberty ship, a simple light freighter the admiral recommended as a first project. They tapped the stashed gear in the system to expand on the project. They also hit the system for raw material.

  The ship's vast industrial replicators were kept fed, drawing on the raw materials from the small asteroids the shuttle pilots towed in. Vanessa grumbled about the fuel use until Hibiki towed in a twenty ton Carbon Chloride asteroid. Vanessa wasn't quite mollified by it, but she at least stopped complaining.

  For their part Hibiki and Dorah were kept busy shuttling people and components around. Dorah still found time to cuddle and steal an occasional kiss of course.

  “All right all right, I'm getting there! Geesh!” Dorah grumbled when impatient techs called for her to move faster. “You obvious
ly don't understand piloting, you don't go too fast. The admiral said if you do you have to brake as much and we can't waste the fuel. And if I use my wedge...”

  “No!” Faith said.

  “See?" Dorah said, for once sounding smug. "Told you so.”

  <===^===>

  Over two long hard weeks the EVA and engineering crews built the basic structure. They had focused on the critical skeleton of the ship, and Taki the cargo master had carefully packed every hold and cubby space with the heavy metal components before it had all been unloaded. Now they took in marked pallets at a time into two of their cargo holds. They built sections in the cargo holds of the Io 11, then moved the pieces out for final assembly with the growing ship.

  The admiral had taught them that trick, though it took a bit of time to get it right. The boat bays had to be kept clear for the traffic that moved in and out of them every half hour or so.

  It was a five hundred meter long ship, with holds along the flanks. Nacelles stuck out along the rear flanks. Four sublight engines were clustered in the rear. They each used coil guns instead of gravity emitters. The linear actuators were much easier to make and repair over the gravity emitters, though they used up a lot more space and mass... and weren't nearly as energy efficient. The trade off was worth it in the eyes of the engineering department, after all, they could make the coils, they couldn't make the gravity emitters.

  It took them several weeks to finish the basic structure. They finished the basics of the holds easily, as well as the habitats, but then ran into a logistical wall. They lacked a fusion reactor, hyperdrive, and other vital components. It did however have hull components stored in pallets in her own hull. There was no point installing them until the critical engineering components were installed after all.

  <===^===>

  Finished with what they had on hand, they reluctantly powered down the scaffolding and hab.

  Faith's crew tacked and wired rocks to the entire thing to hide what it was. By the time they were done the engineers complained it was ugly, amusing the crew.

  “So, that's it? We just pack up and leave?” Vanessa asked. “No more?”

  “For now,” Faith said. She had pushed her people hard to get the job done as quickly as they had. All were in need of a rest. They hadn't worked that hard since the admiral had been on board.

  “What about security?”

  “We can leave a bot,” Io said.

  “I'm talking about people. Shouldn't we leave a crew behind?”

  “And do what?” The chief engineer asked. “They could keep working on it if we left them a reactor, replicator, some life support and materials. But for what? Right now it's a space station. A platform. We need more gear. We'll have to trade for some of it.”

  “I see.”

  “But still, if someone comes buy and steals it...”

  “Then they'll get a shell and will have a hell of a time hauling it off,” Faith said, shaking her head. “Some gear yes. But if we left people behind they would be in the line of fire.”

  “True,” Emily said, shaking her head. “No,” she said slowly. “We're not leaving people behind. Are we gram?” she asked, turning to the Captain.

  “No,” the Captain said, crossing her arms in front of her. “I know it's a risk. But there's no telling what the future may hold,” she said. The Captain put the idea to rest. “If they stay they'd be stuck if anything happened to us. No. Besides, if they were there they'd need power and life support, a sure give away to anyone passing through the system.”

  The Captain was ready to move on. She wanted to go to Avalon but Vanessa talked her into doubling back to Epsilon. “It has factories there, the planet may have something we can pick up and use. Besides, I'd rather the crew have shore leave in that system than in Avalon.”

  “Besides Captain, Epsilon has a better asteroid field. We can stuff our holds again and make more parts.”

  “Ah.”

  “And then back to B448c?”

  “Why not?”

  “You can't finish the ship! All this time! Materials, energy, all wasted!”

  “It's not wasted!” Jenny replied hotly. “We just haven't finished. We need time and parts. If we had the admiral here...”

  “Well he's not here!”

  “Well, let's see what's in Epsilon first,” the Captain said. “Who knows, we might find something there we can use. Stranger things have been known to happen.”

  The end

  Salvage

  Senka system, two years after the events in Fool's gold.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  Sixteen year old Mairi Jersey swore again as she picked at the controls. It wasn't prudent to take one's ire out on your own ship, as bad things happened then. But she didn't know how to vent other than turning the air blue. A quick glance at the heater in subconscious reflex as that thought hit her. Nope, just fine, 18 degrees Celsius. She ran a dirty hand through the blue hair under her hand knitted cap before resetting it on her closely buzz cut head. She was a spacer born and bred; spacers had no need of hair. Hair just got in the way; she just wished she was bald at times like this. Of course there was always the option of letting it grow out like her mother's so she could sell it, but that was a pittance.

  She was also a bitter asteroid miner she thought with a disgusted sigh. Here she was, out and about picking up salvage. She should be happy she realized, but the unfairness of the universe still bothered her. There really was no justice, even though she'd turned it to some of her advantage. Maybe. If she got back alive that was.

  A few months ago a ship passing through had brought news. Momentous news. News that affected their home system even though they hadn't known the full story four years ago. They all knew about the pirates, thankfully they rarely stayed long these days. Stories of the pirates passing through her system tended to annoy, but at least they were just passing through now, not using the few and far between habitats as target practice anymore. Word of Irons and how he'd been picked up in their system angered her however.

  He should have been their find, their sale to another group, or used to help benefit them! But no, some damn freighter jockey had literally stumbled onto his pod while being chased by pirates! Pure dumb luck! Sometimes she cursed the spirits for such things. Why should others get so lucky when people like her who desperately needed the luck had none?

  Her mother had pointed out that Irons had been here all along and no one had found him. That wasn't her point she'd fumed. Trust her mother to see both sides of the situation. And her mother had been right, Irons was out of the system anyway. It wasn't like he'd return, not to a death trap of a system like this one.

  Now she fumed again, sifting through the wreckage. She'd found some choice bits, stuff she'd packed onto her hull or marked for later retrieval. Digs... damn him, she had to be careful, and he too had gotten wind of where Irons had been picked up. She checked the long range. He'd tagged her on her way out, she was sure of it. She couldn't go all evasive either; she'd had just enough juice and life support for a straight shot out. She couldn't linger long either, not unless she wanted to become a part of the funeral cloud.

  Uncle Edgar had provided some of the data, for his usual fee of course. She curled her lip in disgust. The man had no respect for family. None at all. Even when he had her work at the bar to pay her mother's tab, he still didn't cut her a break. He'd even charge her interest if the debt ran overlong. At least she had the data though. The course data from both ships.

  Edgar hadn't twigged onto what she was doing, or at least hadn't said anything out loud. He'd just watched her work on the problem on an old tablet. She was good with math, good with navigation. What she'd been after was what she'd thought off after she'd heard the story about Irons and gotten over her initial resentment. If Irons had been picked up... then maybe there was something else out there. Another survivor perhaps?

  She'd triangulated the debris cloud from the path of the two ships, the unknown pirate and the so calle
d Io 11. By back tracking along their course she'd found the wreckage strewn across millions of kilometers in a glob emanating from a central point. Indeed some of that same wreckage had already passed through the system or had been picked up over the centuries. But apparently not all of it. She was eager to get her fair share.

  Digs was a slike, a slime ball grifter who tended to have wandering hands and a total lack of appreciation for proper hygiene. He liked to drift between the small asteroid and moon colonies in the system. There couldn't be more than a thousand people left in the system and of course he had to be one of them. She still couldn't believe how low he'd sunk, hitting on her of all people! He was also shifty, and it wouldn't be surprising if he had followed her. She regretted the slip she'd made talking to Uncle Edgar. She'd wished she'd had the foresight to do it away from the bar. In hindsight that might have been her undoing.

  Senka had a small population, growing smaller every year. Many had died by the pirates, others died when the air or power ran out. Trying to survive with what was left was next to impossible but somehow they did it. Without a planet, without a formal space station... somehow they still did it, still lived. It would be a testimony to people and how stubborn they could be if it didn't make her want to cry.

  She was tired of Senka, tired of scratching a living out of the rock, trying to survive, watching the air bottle run out, worried about the heater freezing up, the constant threat of radiation... a retro misfiring... to others it was part and parcel of their life, but not her. No, not her. She wanted out. She wanted to strike it rich and get her mom out of this wretched system. Go somewhere it was safer, where there were more people. She was spacer born and bred so she would prefer somewhere like Pyrax. She'd heard about New Dublin and wanted no part of that mess. Hell no! No way. She wanted a guy to maybe settle down with, but not some slave master. Screw that.

  No, she wanted more and she'd damn well get more or die trying. Already she'd picked up enough bits to pay for this trip and her next two refuelling's as well as enough O2 for both her and her mother for the next solar year.

 

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