First Principles: Samair in Argos: Book 3

by KOTCHER, MICHAEL

  He blinked. “Wait, what? When were we needing refits?”

  She sighed. “Nasir? Get Stella on the line with us here. And open a channel to the Grania Estelle. Please see if Chief Trrgoth is available to talk now.” The AI appeared on the display and nodded.

  “Why do I feel like I’m being ambushed?”

  She grinned. “Oh, Captain Eamonn, that’s because you are.”

  Chapter 13

  Once everyone was present, either in person or digitally, Vincent Eamonn folded his arms over his chest. “All right, Tamara. What refits are you wanting to make to my ship?”

  “The biggest one that I’m thinking of involves keeping the ship safer, Captain,” she said, folding her hands on the desktop. “For the longest time, it really hasn’t mattered since there had been very little in the way of active threats in the Argos Cluster. Or rather, the number of threats in the Cluster was fewer.”

  “Until Ulla-tran.”

  She nodded. “Right. Well, Hecate, really, but certainly Ulla-tran. And we got so very lucky in that escape. So incredibly lucky,” Tamara said, looking down to the desktop for a second. “I know you did the best you could to try and fight the ship, Vincent, but a bulk freighter fighting against three light cruisers and a corvette, there was only so much we could do.” They all were silent for a second, as they all remembered that terrifying time. Grania Estelle had done what she could to try and escape the pirate flotilla throwing everything at the enemy, but the lumbering freighter had been, quite simply, overmatched. The cruisers had swooped in and bracketed the massive vessel while the corvette had shot out her sublight engines. There had been no escape.

  Tamara brightened. “What I’m proposing is to refit bay eight into a hangar bay for a full squadron of starfighters. That bay is massive, more than big enough to accommodate twenty fighters.”

  Vincent was frowning, but Stella looked delighted by the idea. “A pocket carrier?” she squeaked. “I think that would be amazing, Captain!” Her holographic image hovering above the projector was nearly jumping up and down with excitement.

  “Do we have the fighters for this?” he asked, instead. That was a surprise. Tamara had fully expected that he would object to the conversion of the bay from cargo to hangar.

  “I have the ships,” she said, nodding. “Been thinking about this for the last month. Korqath has been recruiting and training, but the newbies are nowhere near ready.”

  “What about the standing squadrons?” he asked.

  Nasir was the one who nodded this time, his image on the display. “Delphon Squadron is the best choice for this, I think. They have just been reconstituted and have had a few months to work up. They’ll be able to do more in simulation while the Grania Estelle is in transit.”

  “It will give Xar a chance to work directly with the Zlk’vzn-class fighters he designed,” Quesh said from the split screen on the monitor he was sharing with Nasir. “And I think I have a few ideas for berthing spaces for twenty ships, plus spare parts, fueling tanks.”

  They spent the next hour discussing the project. Tamara was also concerned by the lack of communication from the big bulk freighter, even though the ship had been only a handful of light years away, one star system over. So the idea had been suggested to cut the bay in half, separating the massive cargo doors so that they would open over half the bay, and a bulkhead put in to differentiate between the sections and to maintain atmo in the closed section. One half of the bay would hold the fighters, and a large plate would be added to give a second level for which to launch and land fighters. A large cargo elevator would be installed at the inner section of the fighter bay to move goods and personnel from one level to the other.

  The other half of the bay was reserved for a hyper capable ship that could jump out of the system and bring word back to home base. Eretria, Kay’grax and Nasir (using a lot of processing cycles) had managed to retrofit one of the Testudo cargo ships into a fast packet. They had to cut the cargo space down to almost nothing, giving only three metric tons of cargo space, but in return they wedged in a huge fuel bunker, a class four hyperdrive, and upgraded shields. The ship had no armament, but it wasn’t intended as a warship. It was intended to have long legs. At top speed, the ship could theoretically make it into the low levels of the Green in the hyperspace bands. That way, Grania Estelle could call for help if the need arose, or even just send the ship back to inform home base that they would be staying an extra month for an extended build project.

  There had been talk of other upgrades: improved shields, an updated hyperdrive, combat drones and an AI to manage them, clusters of missile launchers, even a turbolaser battery in the aft section, but in the end, Vincent decided that all he was going to take was the refit to the cargo bay. His ship had been in port only a few days and already he was getting the feeling that he needed to get back out into space. Tamara promised her teams would be able to refit the bay within a month, with the assistance from Grania Estelle’s engineering division.

  Eventually, the meeting broke up, the AIs and the Chief Engineer disappearing, leaving only the two humans in the compartment. “All right, so what can I expect from the Commodore?” Tamara asked.

  He sighed. “Well, she’s going to want her flagship fixed up, I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that.”

  “Thank you, Captain Eamonn,” she simpered. “I never would have figured that out without your expert assistance in this matter.” She gave him huge wide eyes, blinking a lot.

  “Cute. She’s not the friendliest of people. Kind of reminds me of some other women in my life,” he said, grinning. She growled at him and he went on. “In her case though, I think a lot of it comes from the fact that her task force was crushed by the pirate flotilla.”

  Tamara nodded in sympathy. “I can understand that. She’s also a high ranking officer. She’s probably very used to being in charge and having to defer to civilians probably won’t sit too well.”

  “And how will working with you be different?”

  She gave a half shrug. “I’m not sure it will be from her perspective. I’m certainly not going to tell her that I’m Republic Navy.”

  “All right, let’s go and get this over with.”

  “Done with engines, ma’am,” the ship’s helmsman reported.

  “Thank you, Mister Douglas,” Brianne replied. She pressed a control, opening a channel to Engineering. “Are the mooring lines secured, Mister Blucas?” she asked her chief engineer.

  “They are, Captain. I’ve powered down into standby mode. Reactor One is completely powered down. She was starting to develop a twitch that I don’t like. It’s going to require a full teardown and rebuild.”

  Brianne nodded, grimacing. “Very well, Chief. Keep me informed. As I understand, the representatives from First Principles will be here soon and we’ll have civilian engineering teams here to assist.”

  There was a heavy sigh over the comms. “Captain, are we sure about these people? I mean, if we were back in the Republic, at one of the major shipyards, I wouldn’t have a problem with it, but here…”

  She chuckled. “Chief, you hate it when any civilians start working on this ship. And I can’t say I blame you. Especially out here in the Cluster, I absolutely understand not trusting the civilians. But we don’t have a year to sit around while you and your teams make the necessary repairs.”

  “That was a low blow, Captain,” Blucas grumbled.

  “But I think it was one you needed to hear, Chief. We need to get my ship back up to her fighting trim, and to do that, we need these people.”

  “Captain-…” he started to plead.

  “No, Chief,” she said. “Not over the comms. In fact, meet me in my cabin, please.” She cut the connection.

  The man arrived in her cabin less than five minutes later, and it looked as though his steam lines were about to burst, judging by the nearly purple color to his face. “Captain, I know that we need these people and that you think that this is a good idea and all but,
I just I cannot-…”

  “All right, Chief that is enough!” Brianne barked. The man gave her an incredulous look but before he could speak again, she pointed at a spot on the deck just inside the hatch. “Close that hatch, now.”

  He worked his jaw, but turned and closed the hatch. Then he immediately turned back, his mouth open as though to speak. “Right there!” she said, her voice rising slightly in volume and she stood taller, swelling to her full, impressive height. “Standing tall!”

  His expression sullen, the engineering officer did as he was ordered. He braced to attention, staring at a spot through the Commander since she was taking up the back half of the compartment and he was unable to see around her. She stepped up to him, invading his personal space, looking down at the shorter man.

  She glared at him. “Lieutenant, I know we’ve all been through a lot. And I also know that you and your teams have done everything possible to keep this ship running. But I’ve had enough of your bitching about working with the FP technicians. Now.”

  “Aye, aye, ma’am,” Blucas replied, stiffly.

  “So, you’re going to obey orders and like it, Cormaran. I know you don’t want civilians crawling all over the ship, but that’s the way it’s going to be. I’m expecting Captain Eamonn and his Chief of Operations to be over here in a few minutes. So you’re going to adjust that attitude of yours, sailor, and you and I are going to meet with them. We’re going to discuss the repairs to my ship. Then, we’re going to plan the repairs, and then you and the FP people are going to perform the repairs. And you will do so with a minimum of fuss. If I have to break up any fights, if I hear about any serious disagreements between you and their representative, you and I will be having a discussion. And then I will be finding a new engineer. Am I clear, Lieutenant?”

  The man swallowed hard. “Aye, aye, ma’am,” he said, his voice strained but a little louder than before. He stared straight ahead, which happened to be right at her throat.

  She nodded slightly. “I expect you to be there, ready and raring to go when their people arrive. Dismissed,” she barked.

  “Aye, aye, ma’am!” he barked, did a crisp pivot and marched out of the cabin, closing the hatch gently behind him.

  Once he was gone, Brianne seemed to deflate slightly, her presence no longer taking up half the cabin. She was just a female Secaaran again, a very tired one. She leaned a hand against the bulkhead breathing hard for a few moments. It took her far longer than she wanted to regain her composure. Once she got things under control again, she straightened up, adjusted her uniform tunic and then headed out of the compartment.

  Brianne met the commodore in the corridor heading to the airlock. The boat bay had been sealed off but never repaired, so for the moment anyone coming aboard the ship had to do so via one of the personnel airlocks. The destroyer had maneuvered into one of the construction docks, and mooring lines had secured the ship. Minutes after that, boarding tubes linked up with the airlocks from the dock’s interior compartments.

  The sailor standing by the airlock control put a hand to his ear. “Captain, the dockside control is indicating the representatives are going to come through.”

  Brianne nodded. “Go ahead, cycle them through.”

  The sailor did as he was bid, and the airlock hissed and then opened. Five individuals stepped through. The sailor’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head and he sent a frantic message to the Commander’s implants.

  [Captain, there are three lupusan in the airlock.] He seemed a bit panicked. [And all of them are armed to the teeth.]

  Brianne cursed herself for a fool. She nodded in acknowledgement and then shot a message off to security, demanding a response team to the airlock on the double. She wasn’t sure what they would be able to do against lupusan, but it was better that they get here and stand sentinel than not having them.

  Two humans led the way; their dogs were lining the wall behind, all three looking well-armed and menacing, though none of them made any hostile or threatening moves. Captain Eamonn stepped up to the commodore and extended his hand. “Commodore, good to see you again,” he said, chuckling. “Not as though we haven’t been talking every day over the comms.”

  Theodosia nodded, shaking his hand. She was still confined to the hover chair. The limbs that Turan had made for her were ready, but she had refused to leave Horus until they arrived at the docking facility and Turan couldn’t perform the surgeries necessary to attach the new legs until she did. “Good to see you again in person, Captain. And who’s this?” she asked, taking in the sight of the others.

  But Brianne interrupted him. “Captain, I must say, I don’t appreciate you bringing armed guards onto my ship.” She indicated the lupusan.

  “Those are my guards, Commander Crgann,” Tamara said, affecting a ‘silly ol’ me’ tone to her voice, as though this was just an understandable mixup. “I’ve had some unpleasantness in my life recently and it was decided that for my security it would be best if I had some backup.”

  The Secaaran glared at her. “I don’t care whose guards they are. They are not staying on my ship.”

  Theodosia raised a hand. “Easy, Commander. It’s all right. Captain, please, would you introduce us to your associate?” Brianne’s jaw worked as she clenched her teeth in frustration of having the commodore overrule her.

  Tamara glanced at the two Republic officers, her HUD showing both of their IDs and for the very first time, she actually was pleased that the disruptor was on her neck. Her own implants were trying to send a signal to them, to confirm her identity to the two officers there, but a red indicator was blinking on the lower corner of the HUD, clearly showing that the transmission was being interrupted. “My name is Tamara Samair. I’m the chief of Operations for FP, Inc.” She put her hands behind her back, to forestall anyone attempting to shake her hand. “And I’m the one who’s going to get teams onto this beauty and get him ready to fight again.”

  Theodosia nodded. “Excellent. Our chief engineer, Lieutenant Blucas will be joining us shortly, and you’ll be able to work out with him exactly what needs to be done and exactly how you can help us.”

  “That sounds great,” Tamara replied. “I look forward to speaking with him.”

  “But in the meantime, Ms. Samair,” the commodore went on, “I would just like to know how you intend to work with us on this project.”

  “Well, as I believe Captain Eamonn mentioned to you, we have the facilities here to easily bring your life support and hull integrity back up to 100% efficiency,” Tamara replied easily. “Those systems should be our first priority. After that, we’ll look into the shields, sensors and engines.”

  Theodosia nodded. “That seems reasonable. But I’m more interested in how you’re going to provide these parts. Hull plating is simple enough, even military grade, and I did notice you had a couple of corvette class ships patrolling near the gas giant.”

  “Yes, ma’am, that’s correct. I’ve looked over the specs provided by the teams that did the initial repairs to your life support systems. They did full scans of your scrubbers and algae matrices and I have to say, I’m impressed by the design. Very efficient.”

  The commodore frowned. “Those specs have been in use by the Republic for the last one hundred years, Ms. Samair. They’re nothing new or special.”

  “Ma’am, with all due respect, something like that is considered an upgrade out here in the Cluster. Ships out here don’t have state of the art equipment. We’re working with outdated designs that manage very well, and we’ve kept them in good tune. But with a few tweaks, I can fabricate the parts needed to restore your ship. I would just need some of the specifications.”

  “You want me to just turn over specifications for a Republic warship?” she asked, smiling broadly. “Captain Eamonn, are you and this woman trying to play me for a fool? You just want me to hand over those specs? Oh, sure, you fix up this ship and then we leave. And then in six months or a year, we return to the Cluster to see a flotilla of knoc
k off warships?”

  “Commodore, we talked about this. You want repairs done to that ship; we need to come to some sort of arrangement. Now software updates were a good start, but unless you want you ship repaired with what you would consider outdated gear, you are going to need to turn over that information.”

  She sighed. “This is not a conversation to be having here at the airlock.”

  “Indeed, no, Commodore. May we adjourn to your conference room?” Tamara asked.

  Brianne’s jaw was clenched so tight it seemed as though sand was falling from her armored skin to land on her uniform shoulder, almost like dandruff. But then she relaxed, as though a switch had been flipped inside of her. “Yes, of course. Captain, Ms. Samair, Commodore. Let’s go to the conference room. Bring your guards,” she added, her implants noting that four security officers, armed with needlers and stun pistols were in the corridor, awaiting her orders. She flashed them a quick message, telling them to hold their positions, but to stay alert. Non-lethal only.

  It took a few minutes of walking through the ship to get to the conference room, which was only a compartment away from the bridge. This gave Tamara the opportunity to see and scan all the open panels, junction boxes, and a few more of the Republic toys as they walked by. There honestly wasn’t a whole lot that she was able to find on the trip, but one never knew. She just put her optics to record and tried very hard to look at everything. The internals to a Republic warship didn’t seem to have changed much in the years separating her active service and now. That gave her some hope: she wouldn’t have a huge learning curve in getting the warship restored and back in space.

  Upon reaching the compartment, they filed in, the Commodore and her flag captain sitting at the head of the table, the furthest from the hatch they’d entered from. Tamara sat on the far side of the table, with Vincent seated on her right. It was a small and cramped compartment; there wasn’t much space for this sort of thing on a destroyer. It was a reversal of roles, seeing as he was the owner of the company, but since she was the one who was actually going to be doing the work, Vincent had deferred to her. The guards meanwhile had filed in. Ekaterina stood sentinel outside the door, while the other two took up positions behind Tamara inside the compartment. They were so close that the humans could smell them, it was a very small compartment, but neither complained.