First Principles: Samair in Argos: Book 3

by KOTCHER, MICHAEL

  “Right,” he said and trotted off down to the main doors heading into the hold.

  She stepped onto the bridge to find Trudy, Rezal and Huznall busy at work at their consoles. The Severite laid his ears back in response to her footsteps. “Captain, we’re still on the same flight vector we were when they had us cut the engines. But they’re still docked.” He had his head turned to his console, but Lujayne could see him bare his fangs.

  Right on cue, there was a heavy ka-clunk noise as the frigate released their docking clamps. Lujayne could see from her own displays as she sat in her chair that the customs frigate had flown free and was now moving off. The two other corvettes were slowly following, reluctant to turn their backs on Cavalier, who was moving up like a protective bulldog, her shields raised and weapons powered.

  “I have Captain Tariq on the line for you,” Huznall said, raising her voice slightly.

  Lujayne sighed heavily and pressed a control to activate her comm display. Nazan’s face appeared, he looked angry. “Are you all right?” he demanded.

  “We’re a little banged up and my chief engineer got shot, but he’s in the medbox, recovering. But if you could send over a medic and someone to help out in engineering, at least until we get to the hyper limit, I’d appreciate it.”

  He nodded, his angry face softening. “Understood. We’ll be moving in to dock. If you could please maintain your course and speed?”

  She looked over to Rezal, who nodded, taking his hands off the flight controls and holding them up to shoulder level. “We’re continuing on our ballistic trajectory. Try not to knock against my ship too hard. We’ve already been handled a bit roughly by men in warships.”

  He growled. “I’ll remember. Be about five minutes to line up for docking.” And the display went blank.

  “I wonder how close he got to firing on the customs ships,” she mused, her voice low.

  “Very close, Captain,” Huznall replied, startling her. When she looked over at the hak’ruk, Huznall went on. “Cavalier’s weapons and shields are powered and it looks as though up until we called them, their weapons were locked on to the frigate.”

  Lujayne put her head into her hands, breathing heavily. “What a mess. I can’t say I’ll be too sorry to be gone from this place and back home.”

  “Really?” Trudy asked. “I mean, yeah it was really scary with them boarding us and Ernie getting shot, but how much profit did we make here? And how much do we stand to make once we get the cargoes you purchased back home?”

  Lujayne sat up straight, looking at her navigator. “Is that the green monster of avarice I’m hearing coming from you Trudy?”

  The young woman flushed and ducked her head. But after a moment, she turned away from her navigation console and looked Lujayne straight in the eye. “I suppose it might be, Captain. But think about it: with the profit we made on this run and the projected profits we’re going to make when we get back to Seylonique, what is the likelihood that the bosses are going to end this route just because we got roughed up a bit?”

  Lujayne sighed. She was right. “Well, I’ll be making a full report to Ms. Samair when we get back about how we were treated here, but we both know you’re right. I just hope that the next time we come into the system we can get out again without having to have one of the crew shot.” She shook her head. “The profits were good, you’re right, but it isn’t worth nearly getting someone, getting all of us killed.”

  Nods from the others on the bridge, though Huznall wasn’t paying much attention, she was too focused on her operations console. “It doesn’t look as though the borders did any damage to our equipment, Captain, though they did download our ship’s database.”

  Lujayne stared at her, the blood draining from her face. “Great. Ms. Samair is going to love that. At least we didn’t have one of the company’s primary data cores on board. Just the ship’s protocols and cargo databases.”

  “No replicators, either,” the hak’ruk replied. “Neither the big ones on the Samarkand or the Kutok mine, or the little A2s that the company leases for commercial applications. I know Ms. Samair would not want any of those to be lost. Luckily the specs for any of the company replicators are not on the ship’s database.”

  “Oh good,” she said, putting a hand to her forehead, feeling the stirrings of a raging migraine. “Well then, I won’t be immediately fired for not purging the database before we were boarded.”

  The others all turned to look at her. “Seriously, Captain? You can’t think that Samair would fire you for that,” Trudy said, agape. “I mean, we were boarded!”

  “Yes,” Lujayne agreed. “And it was my responsibility to purge the ship’s proprietary database to keep that information out of unwanted hands. I didn’t think to do that and now all that information is in the hands of the crew of that ship. And anyone who they choose to give or sell it to.” She clawed at her head, silently cursing herself for that massive slip up. She might not escape getting fired after all. “Well, this might have been the shortest command stint in history. All right. I’m going down to the airlock to meet the team from Cavalier. I’ll call up to the bridge once I get there. You have the bridge watch, Huznall.”

  “Understood, Captain,” Huznall replied.

  Lujayne left the bridge and headed down to the airlock. The sooner they could get the ship up and running the better. Besides, the medbox could do a decent job of treating Ernie’s injuries, but they all would feel better once the chief engineer was well again. It was meant as more of a stabilization device, not for full treatment for any serious injuries. She had no idea what Cavalier’s sickbay was like, how skilled their doctor was. She’d have to find out.

  “I have one final surprise for you, Vincent,” Tamara said, as a small party had gathered aboard Moxie-2. It wasn’t an elaborate affair, but the furnishings were quite comfortable and the main compartment of the ship was more than triple the size of the Grania Estelle’s wardroom. Noken and Hot Pads had gotten together to prepare a feast, both cooks working their hardest to outdo each other. As it was, with the ten people they would be serving, there was a plethora of goodies to choose from, and Tamara insisted that the two cooks share this bounty with the crews of both Grania Estelle and the Samarkand. Neither cook had a problem with this and certainly none of the crews did.

  “Another surprise?” the captain replied, taking another bite of cornbread. A pile of short rib bones was on a plate in front of him and he had just set down his napkin. “I don’t know if I can handle anything more, especially with you conspiring with the two finest cooks in the system to cause so many of us to explode.” Cups were raised in a toast, shouts of pleasure and agreement, the two cooks; one human, one Severite, raised their own glasses. Padderson beamed at the praise and Noken blinked, showing his pleasure. The cat rotated his ears as well, flattening them down on the sides of his head.

  “It isn’t more food, you glutton,” Tamara said. Everyone chuckled, though not too loudly. Clearly, the laundry services aboard all three ships was subpar, as everyone’s clothes seemed to have shrunk in the last day because what else would account for the fact that they didn’t fit?

  “Well?” he demanded, trying to speak in his grandest command voice, but not succeeding too well.

  Tamara activated her implants and with that same joyous surge she felt nowadays when she could access the computer systems, she brought one of the monitors to life. Stella and Nasir were present on two of the others; this one was being used for ship status updates. The data disappeared and another face appeared. It was a human male, dark-skinned, his head shaven. “This is Wotan,” she said. “He’s the new ship AI for our newest warship, Persistence of Vision.”

  All eyes turned his way. “It is an honor to meet you all,” the AI said, in his very deep, gravelly voice.

  “Wotan, if you would?” Tamara asked, gesturing to the holo projector.

  He nodded. “Of course.” His image disappeared from the monitor and then reappeared in the air. He cu
t a fine figure: tall, well-muscled. He was dressed in a First Principles, Inc. ship suit, with the galactic spiral stitched into the left breast, as well as on the right sleeve. He stood in a heroic looking stance, head back, spine ramrod straight, as though he was posing for a recruiting poster. There were oohs and ahhs from around the room as everyone took a long look at the new AI. Wotan appeared to be in his late twenties or early thirties by human standards.

  Vincent stood up and nodded. “You look good, Wotan. How does it feel to be the first warship AI in this star system?”

  The AI looked at him, his glare cold. “I am pleased at the honor and I will strive to do the best that I can to assist my crew and protect those under our care.” He didn’t sound all that pleased. He sounded as though it was a duty to perform and nothing more.

  “I suppose that’s the best that can be hoped for,” Vincent admitted. “From a warship AI, I mean.”

  “I will do my duty, Captain,” Wotan replied. “You do not need to be concerned about that.”

  “I’m not. I’m sure you’ll do excellent work, just as your fellow AI have,” Vincent said, gesturing to the other monitors at Stella and Nasir’s images. Magnus should be here as well, the man realized, but the Kutok mine was far enough away that he really would not have been able to participate with the light lag. However, no one wanted him to be left out, so there were plans to throw another similar party once Persistence of Vision was launched. “How long until you launch?”

  “The engineering teams are doing good work, Captain Eamonn,” Wotan replied. “We should be ready to launch in eight days, once the last engine trials are completed.” The AI was quite certain of this, which only made sense, since he was plugged into every system on the ship. He quite literally was the ship, for all practical purposes.

  “I look forward to seeing the Persistence in action, Wotan.”

  “The Persistence of Vision, Captain,” the AI corrected.

  More chuckles. Vincent held up his hands in surrender. “Of course. Persistence of Vision.” The AI nodded, mollified. He turned to the room at large, holding up his glass. “To FP’s newest ship, Persistence of Vision and her ship’s AI!” The crowd roared its approval, but Wotan scowled at the acclaim. They all ignored him.

  Stella linked in with Wotan through Moxie-2’s datanet. “Ease up, Wotan,” she told him. “It’s a party.”

  His scowled deepened. “It is a waste of time,” the youngest AI complained. “We should be working on the ship. These people should be working on either the ship or with the other areas of the business. Not cavorting around on this vessel gorging themselves with food and getting intoxicated on spirits.”

  Stella gave a virtual shrug. “They have been working, Wotan, and they’ve been working hard for months. They’re taking one night off to celebrate and unwind. You take time for down cycles to process, that’s what they are doing.”

  “That is what their sleep cycles are for,” Wotan said. “They don’t need this.”

  “They’re not machines, Wotan. They cannot function at optimal efficiency as well as AI. Every so often they need to take time to rest and relax. Which means that you need to let it go.” At his continued disapproval, she went on. “I’ve been working with these organics for years now. They are good people and they have accomplished a great deal. This one little party is not the end of the world. By tomorrow, they’ll all be back to work and efficiency will be back up again among these senior officers.”

  Wotan didn’t answer, disappearing back into the destroyer’s datanet. Stella chuckled at her younger brother’s obstinacy. He’d come around.

  “What about the government ships?” Vincent asked.

  Tamara took a sip from her glass. “Assuming no problems, the first two destroyers will be ready a week after Persistence of Vision. And believe me, the government inspectors have been all over me about that. They want status updates every six hours, even though the schedules and the deadlines have remained the same.”

  “I’m sure,” Vincent replied sourly. “But hey, if they’re willing to pay, I say build them. If they happen to want any more once these ones are done, take the contract.”

  Tamara smiled. “I plan to.”

  “I thought there was concern over whether those ingrates on the admin council would turn those ships against us,” Quesh commented from his spot on one of the couches.

  Tamara and Vincent exchanged looks. “There’s some,” Tamara admitted reluctantly. “But in the end, FP can’t afford to be the only entity protecting this system. And the government is going to have more money than we will.”

  “Money I want to get hold of,” Eamonn commented. Chuckles from around the compartment.

  Tamara winked at him. “So do I. But to get back to what Quesh was saying, the more ships we have in this system for defense, the better. Right now, we’ve got one of the Republic destroyers, two escort frigates and four corvettes.” At an angry noise from Korqath and Hukriss from across the compartment, she raised her glass to them in acknowledgement. “As well as the fighter squadrons, of course.” They waggled their antennae at her then helped themselves to more of Noken’s excellent snow beetles. “It’s a lot of firepower, but against what we know Verrikoth’s forces have, it might not have been enough to stop him. But with the Leytonstone and the government’s light squadron and now the four destroyers, I’d say anyone stupid enough to come here and try anything would deserve everything they got.” A ragged chorus of cheers erupted from the gathered throng.

  “How does it look?” Lujayne asked, exhaustion competing with worry.

  “I’ve had engineering teams go over your ship from stem to stern, Lujayne,” Nazan replied, touching her on the shoulder. He had come over to the cargo ship when it was clear she couldn’t be dragged away from her command. Technically, he shouldn’t either in what had to be considered hostile territory, but he felt as though it might be better to speak with her in person. They were sitting in her cabin, away from the rest of the crew. Lujayne knew that eventually she would need to go and give them all an update, but at the moment she just couldn’t handle being around them. “Everything looks good. It doesn’t look as though the troopers damaged much, even when they opened fire. You should be good to go.”

  “Good,” she said, rubbing her eyes with one hand.

  “You need to rest,” he told her, putting a hand on her shoulder.

  “I can’t rest,” she said. “Not now. Not with Ernie down on your ship’s sickbay. I keep hearing that sound. The booted feet, the shouts and then the gunfire.” She sighed, covering her face in her hands. “Every time I try to lie down and close my eyes, I hear that same event. And I couldn’t do anything. I was the captain of the ship and I couldn’t protect a member of my crew.”

  “What could you have done, Lujayne?” Nazan asked. “Fighting the soldiers wouldn’t have done anything but get you shot instead of Ernie. His wounds weren’t life threatening, yours might have been.”

  She looked up and shook her head. “No, I failed him.”

  “Stop that,” he chided. “You didn’t fail anyone. There wasn’t anything you could have done to prevent this. We had no way of knowing the locals would have tried to board your ship looking for contraband. We were told to avoid the fueling station out by the gas giant. We did that. The last time any of our ships were here, they didn’t have any problems with the people from the orbital station; we didn’t either. You did everything you were supposed to do, so stop blaming yourself.”

  Lujayne looked over to him, so confident and strong. By comparison she was haggard and about ready to collapse. “You weren’t there,” she said, her voice like death. “You didn’t get to feel helpless, watching as your people were captured.”

  “You’re wrong,” he rasped. “I know exactly what that feels like.” He pointed to the bulkhead. “I got to sit out there on Cavalier, watching as that frigate docked and the troopers boarded your ship. All that hardware, all those weapons, and I couldn’t do anything. I ha
d to sit there and just watch, screaming at the customs official on Prima to let you go. Opening fire wouldn’t have gotten you back.” Nazan closed his eyes briefly then opened them and stared into her eyes. “So don’t tell me I don’t know what you’re going through.” There was anger there and Lujayne wasn’t quite sure if it was directed at her or not.

  “How long until Ernie is out of sickbay?” she asked after a long minute of silence.

  “I don’t know,” Nazan said. “I’ll check with the doc in just a minute. But I need to know that you’re going to be able to hold it together, Lujayne.”

  “Hold it together?” she snapped. “Are you kidding me?” She was reaching hysteria now; she knew it and she couldn’t stop it. Deep, wracking sobs overwhelmed her and she just succumbed. It was just pure pain, and it jus went on forever. She couldn’t contain it and after a few moments, she didn’t even want to.

  Nazan was completely at a loss. He didn’t know what to do. He reached out his hand to try and touch her, to comfort her, but he hesitated, then drew his hand back. She was just weeping uncontrollably and he was completely at a loss. Taking his ship into combat against overwhelming odds, he was pretty sure he could do that. But trying to give comfort to a hysterical woman? He was completely in the woods here. In the end, he awkwardly patted her shoulder saying stupid things like “There, there.”

  Finally, the sobs subsided. Lujayne looked up at Nazan through bleary eyes and saw the look of unabashed relief on his face and she gave a watery chuckle. “You’re really terrible at the whole giving comfort thing.”

  He had the grace to look embarrassed. “I never had the class at university where they teach you how to deal with crying women.”

  “Well it certainly wasn’t fun on my end,” she said, scrubbing her face with her hands. “I have to go get cleaned up.” He helped her to her feet and she stumbled into the refresher, and washed her face. When she rubbed a towel on her face to dry, she could feel herself feeling better, as though a poisoned wound had been lanced. Stepping back out into the cabin, she looked back to Nazan, who was busy pretending he was interested in one of the books he’d removed from her small bookshelf.