by Chris Hechtl
“Very well,” Irons replied. “He'll have to learn fast though,” he warned. “Clear it with Ian.”
“Will do. Sleep teaching, their implants, and data downloads are doing wonders with the crew Admiral. They'll adapt,” Sprite said.
Irons nodded. “Fine then, next item, did you get anywhere with the orders and details on B101a1?”
“That's my next project,” Sprite sighed.
<----*----*----*---->
The AI’s cracked the orders from the convoy as well as orders to rendezvous at Beta 101a1 in order to join the fleet that was set to attack a nearby system. It was pretty obvious to them what system they meant.
“Why not just spell it out?” Irina asked when the AI paused during her briefing to the senior staff.
“It is curious. They are sometimes good about information security, and then slack. Most of the slack I attribute to laziness. Someone doesn't anticipate a ship or database being captured and hacked. But every once and a while we run into this. It is pretty obvious though what system. There is only one other system connected to Beta 101a1 that they could mean. And why build up a fleet to take an unarmed system?” Sprite asked.
“Show of force?”
“Doubtful.”
“Warning Pyrax is increasingly too dangerous the direct route,” Sprite said unnecessarily.
“I know,” the Admiral rumbled. All eyes turned to him. “I had considered sending Phoenix the long route. Send her North to Kathy's World and then down to Pyrax that way. But it's a long run, months in each jump even with her systems.”
“Too long,” Ian said.
“Too little too late. I've also considered sending Phoenix to Antigua to warn them but I am not sure about the route or what they might run into along the way. They would have to refuel at least twice, increasing their vulnerability.”
“Admiral, the chances of interception are extremely high. May I remind you about the pirate fleet hitting Protodon and Kathy's World?” she asked.
The Admiral frowned. “Is that confirmed? I classified that as unsubstantiated.”
“And yet you mentioned it to the staff earlier. One wonders why,” Sprite, said in an aside to him.
The Admiral waved an impatient hand for her to move on. “Is it or isn't it? Like I said, I thought...”
“No, you mean you had hoped.” Sprite said out loud. Ian winced at the Admiral's fixed angry expression. “You of all people know better than that. I hate to break it to you Admiral, but it is confirmed. It is indeed under the command of a Rear Admiral Cartwright,” Sprite replied. “I have over one hundred and twenty seven other confirmation sources, including recorded correspondence from some of the personnel in Cartwright's fleet task force two with the members of this former crew.”
“Shit,” Irons heartfelt raspberry sigh echoed in the room. “Damn,” he said, rubbing his brow.
“My sentiments exactly sir,” Sprite said.
“That's... not good,” Irons said softly, thinking hard. He could well imagine the havoc that fleet would bring to the sector.
“Why?” Ian asked, brow wrinkling in confusion.
The Admiral frowned. “Antigua. We had a ship, a freighter, the Lieandra headed that way. If they are caught it will be bad.”
“The cargo?” Sprite asked the Admiral, turning her avatar to him. Lieandra, like Kiev 221, and other ships had been tasked with cargo destined for the naval yard in Pyrax. Thousands of tons of precious material, along with a petabyte of data and orders. It had been a risk to send such material out like that, but at the time the only thing they could do, like sending out mail in the depth of night, uncertain if it would get to its intended destination.
“I'm more worried about the crew and what they will say,” the Admiral mused. He was right; Lieandra's Captain was a wily old Veraxin. Half his crew were non-human, and they all knew the Horathian's track record when it came to non-humans. “Not to mention the pirates noticing the ship has been rebuilt recently. They will want to know where and why and by whom.”
Sprite winced.
The Admiral sighed. “There is nothing we can do about it now.”
“True, and they might get lucky. They might escape and evade, or they might miss them entirely. You know fleets can pass each other in hyper and never know one another was there.”
“True. Under the right circumstances. But I'm not going to bet on it. We'll have to plan for the worst while hoping for the best.”
“Aye sir,” the AI replied. “That we will.”
<----*----*----*---->
Ian made his way through the mess to the kitchen. He found a few people standing around. The normal clatter of sound from the ongoing productivity was noticeably absent. “I just want one,” a voice said. “You can spare that. You've got boxes of the damn things!”
“One what?” Ian asked, coming up behind Diego. Daren the cook was standing in front of the pantry hatch, shaking his head vehemently no.
“One what?” Ian asked again as the compartment stiffened.
“An apple. He's got a ton, I know, I was on the work detail this morning, transferring them from the collier. I asked for one but he is throwing a snit.”
“Cookie?” Ian asked, trying hard not to blow a raspberry in exasperation. They were about to come to blows over a damn fruit?
“It's not that. Not what you think. I'm not being a complete hard ass about it. It's just, if we give out the apples, they are gone.”
“Yes, that is what people generally do with them, eat them.”
“Yeah, but see, here's the thing. We can cook em in stuff, and one apple can feed three people. Make an apple strudel or pie, and it stretches it. That way everyone gets a taste.”
“Okay...”
“I don't like pie,” Diego grumbled, now sullen.
“What?” Daren rounded on him. He scowled. “You don't like pie? Whoever heard of such a thing! No one doesn't like pie!” He threw his hands up in the air in frustration. “It's unheard of!” he said, flapping his apron.
“Settle down Cookie,” Ian said waving a hand. “I don't see the harm in giving him an apple. Just quarter it,” he said, holding up a finger. The other three pieces go to those who also want a slice. Deal?” He asked, with a hint of warning in his tone.
Diego nodded, head down.
“Great, fine, whatever, as if what I say matters,” Daren snarled. He reached into the pantry, flipped the wooden barrel up and plucked out a small apple. He tossed it to Diego. “Here. Now get lost,” he snarled.
“Thanks,” Diego said and left.
Ian watched him go. He looked around to the others in the compartment. Slowly those who belonged there returned to their duties. Those that didn't belong melted away.
“It's not going to end with just one you know,” Daren grumbled. “Others see him with one and they'll come. And one turns into ten, ten into a hundred...”
“I'm sure everyone's not going to starve us out so fast,” Ian said. He winced internally, remembering the run on fresh food on Deianira after they had made the long trip from Antigua to Protodon. As soon as the fruits had come up they were devoured. His lovely wife had tried to put a stop to it, but hadn't been able to. Then people had gotten sick from eating too much fruit. That had overwhelmed sickbay for days and the stink had been terrible. It had also put holes in his manning... He frowned. “On second thought,” he said.
Daren nodded, eying him. “Yeah, had a chance to think it through huh? It was easy handing the kid what he wanted. Try telling them no.”
“Okay, hopefully it's not as bad as you think it is. But just in case, I suggest you break out a detail and get to peeling and baking. Fast.”
“Peeling he says!” Daren threw up his hands. “We're only half way to finishing dinner you know! I can't turn things around so fast!”
“Do what you can. Save the peelings, let people eat those instead.”
Daren cocked his head. “Might work.”
“Or, grind them up in a blender a
nd make an apple drink.”
“Now you're talking,” the cook replied with a nod. “I'll see what I can do.”
“Right,” Ian said. “As the Admiral says, work the problem, don't be the problem,” he said with a small smile.
“Aye aye sir,” Daren replied.
“Carry on,” Ian said as he exited the compartment.
“Apples,” he muttered as he exited the mess. Two crewmen entering stopped to stare at him. “Did he say apples? I want one!” Paul said.
Ian groaned, shaking his head as he kept moving.
<----*----*----*---->
The Admiral swirled his drink idly as they finished desert. He'd taken the habit of trying to dine with the senior officers at least once a week. It wasn't easy; their schedules were all over the place. Fortunately tonight Ian and Sindri, his two favorites had managed to find the time.
All of the officers still frequented the common mess for meals as well. It was not just an issue with bonding with the crew, but a common sense thing, dipping in to get a quick bite while making themselves available to the crew for small talk or to vent issues or complaints. So far everyone was pulling together nicely.
But the wardroom was a good place for the occasional formal dinner. It let him get to know them, and let them approach him about issues to discuss in a more relaxed atmosphere. It was the closest they all could get to being off duty while on ship. Even though they were all in uniform.
He hadn't pushed protocol or military courtesy. He had focused on practical matters as much as possible. He still intended to do so as much as possible. But Sprite was sneaking in military deportment and protocol into some of the lessons with those who had less of a workload or who needed it the most.
Most of the senior staff was there. Ian and Sindri, Bounty was currently in the room but also officer of the watch on the bridge. Mister Ulster was in engineering. Irina was there, as was Enric, Gustov, Sprite, Bill Peters had shuttled over from Lassie, with a rather quiet Jory, and Brandon on the far end. It was just as well that the Glenns and other officers had begged off the invitation for various reasons, the small compartment barely fit them all as it was.
“So... Cookie has a run on apples? Is that why he's baking and in a sulfurous mood?” Sindri asked. Ian had related the apple story to them.
“Yeah,” Ian chuckled. “He's got plenty of helpers though, so it's doubly annoying.”
“How so?”
“Too many cooks in the kitchen!” Ian chuckled. The others did as well.
“If that's all our problems, then we're doing pretty well I think,” Irina said with a smile. She was letting her short hair grow out a bit. She'd had it recently trimmed. It was still pixie short, but at least she looked better. Less of a holocaust victim.
“I've been wondering,” the Admiral said. All eyes turned to him.
“Uh oh, let's hear it. What's next on the agenda?” Sindri asked. “Not that I don't think we're up for the challenge now. Give us a month and we will be. Though building a ship from scratch just might be a bit out of our league,” he said.
“Don't count on it,” Enric chuckled.
“True,” the Admiral said. Sindri glared at him. He smiled slightly. "That wasn't what I was wondering about. I was curious... why did you throw your lot in with me? I mean during the mutiny. You obviously had your own plan...”
Sindri stroked his beard thoughtfully. He looked to the others, but they just shifted a little uncomfortably. “Well for me, it was easy. I hadn't a clue when you kicked things off.”
“True,” Irina said. “None of us did. And you did a good job right from the beginning.”
“I think it was the implants that did it for me. That and hope. It wasn't like we had anything left to lose,” Enric murmured. “But when the implants kicked on and that prompt blinked...” He shook his head ruefully. “I thought I'd lost it!”
“You and me both,” Ian said with a smile. “I was in the same boat as Sindri. I didn't know it was going down. By the time I did you'd what, already secured the bridge?”
“Yes.”
“All over but the crying,” Bill said with a malicious grin. “The bastards didn't know what was coming until it was too late.”
“Exactly,” the Admiral said. “That was the point. They were so busy watching the lot of you; they didn't see it coming from just me. And well, it didn't hurt that I had some AI help to get the ball rolling,” he said nodding to Sprite and Bounty.
“True,” Sprite preened. “You could have done it without us, but it would have been twice as hard.”
“But he'd of done it anyway,” Sindri rumbled. Sprite nodded. The others did as well.
“That's the other thing about you sir,” Irina said. “You keep your word. When you say you're going to do something, you do it. You have a plan, but you are willing to listen to us, and explain when you can. And you don't lord over the crew. You're right there, rolling your sleeves up. That counts a lot for everyone.”
“Spare me blushes,” the Admiral said.
“You asked, we answered,” Ian said with a shrug. “I am curious though, why did you trust us?” he asked.
“Someone had to extend a hand,” the Admiral said slowly. “And yes, there was an element of mutual need and a common enemy.”
“But...” Sprite promoted. He glanced at her briefly. Trust her to know more. She knew he always tried to think the best of people, to draw it out of them.
“But I also saw great potential in each of you. I still do. I know you'll all do well and go far given the right opportunity. I just opened the door.”
“Yes. We appreciate that sir,” Gustov said with a nod. The others nodded as well. “We'll do our best not to let you down.”
“Thank you. All of you,” the Admiral murmured.
<----*----*----*---->
Lieutenant Takagi frowned as he looked at the additional cargo on the manifest. The additional food had been a welcome sight for the crew. It had been quite a pick me up, something to liven up the normally dreary meals. Yuri frowned helplessly. “What do we do with it sir?”
“It's not food, what is it?” Takagi asked.
“Stuff,” Yuri replied with a shrug.
“Stuff. Stuff like toilet paper? Stuff we can use? What kind of stuff.”
“Um... claws. Pelts. Skins and fruit.”
“Well, the fruit can go to Cookie. What about the rest...”
Yuri frowned. “You'll have to see it to believe it,” he said. He waved a load over. Takagi rumbled a sigh as he got off his crate and wandered over to it. The second Collier's holds were half empty. What remained was segregated in this hold; the new material they were making were being stuffed in the other holds until they had room to use them in the ships. Right now the colliers and freighters were being used as mobile warehouses.
He pursed his lips as Yuri got to the first crate ahead of him and popped the wooden top with a crowbar. He reached in, rummaging around the straw and then pulled out a long claw. It looked more like a horn. One end had a bit of dried meat on it. The base was a blackish purple. That color tapered to a greenish at the wicked looking curved tip.
“I've seen that before,” Takagi said, tapping his chin thoughtfully. Finally it came to him and he grunted.
“What?”
“Put it back.”
“What is it?” Yuri asked, turning it over and over. “Some sort of animal?”
“It's a claw all right. A Gashg claw.”
“Spirit of space!” Yuri replied, eyes wide in shock and horror. Carefully he put it back. “That explains the pelts and skins,” he said, now sickened.
“Pelts... I'm guessing Neo's?” the cargo master asked darkly. Yuri nodded.
“Damn.”
Yuri banged the lid back on and then wiped his hands on his trousers. He looked like he had been soiled. Takagi couldn't blame him.
“What the hell do they do with it? It's sick!”
“They trade it,” Takagi replied grimly. Yuri stared
at him. Grimly, the Asian man nodded. “That's right. The claws are used as scrimshaw. They carve them into handles for various things, or smoking pipes.”
“Oh...” Yuri's face worked. He turned to the skins that were stretched on frames and stacked neatly in holders.
“The pelts and skins are turned over to leather crafters or people who want fur coats,” Takagi said. He felt his stomach tighten.
Nausea rippled through Yuri. He fought it down, putting his fist in his mouth for a moment. “Oh goddess. To do that to a sapient being...”
“Yeah. And yeah, it's as sick as it sounds, they reportedly skin some Neo's alive. Sick bastards.”
“So...”
“So we stop it. Here and where ever we can. Treat them like the remains they are. We'll give them a proper spacer burial.”
“Aye sir.”
“I'll let Commander McGuyver know,” Takagi said. “Anything else that you don't recognize either give it a proper send off or recycle it. I think the former owners wouldn't mind it if we used their molecules to get some revenge,” Takagi growled.
Yuri nodded grimly, staring at the pile of crates and barrels. There were tons of them, stacked all the way to the twenty-meter ceiling and back to the rear corner. To think of that... he shook his head.
“You said fruit?”
“Yeah...” Yuri waved him to follow. “And some meat. I'm guessing...” he turned back, eyes lost. “It's in plastic in the freezer or dried as jerky. I'm...”
“If you don't know what it is, recycle it,” the cargo master said. “I don't want to … no,” he said, cutting that thread off.
“Me neither,” Yuri muttered. He led the cargo master through the dark ship to the second cargo hold. He undogged and opened the hatch. He fumbled around until he found the light box and flipped it on.
Takagi followed him in but stopped to whistle. Hanging from rafters were strings of pods. Gashg swamp coconuts, they were spaced out on vines about a half-meter apart. There were thousands of the things.
“Swamp coconuts. They are good eating if you've got a sweet tooth.”
“Yeah, but the alcohol...” Yuri waved a hand.