Chapter 7: The Boatmen
“Skipper,” the chief of the boat came into small cramped state room that served as the ship’s office and the captain’s quarters. “We’ve got orders.”
“Oh?” the young woman said, wondering if they were the orders they all wanted.
“By order of the Crown, the HMS Deliverance is ordered to Trenaport for embarkation onto evacuation space craft for transportation to the Planet of Home. This is to include the entire complement of the vessel. HMS Deliverance is to make best speed and has priority through all locks, and gates.”
“No relief,” the chief, a thirty five year veteran of the Royal Maritime Service answered. He had started out on the boats shortly after leaving Earth and arriving on Trena. He had needed a job in the worse way. His wife was pregnant with their first, and unable to work. He needed money fast. Saw the maritime service recruiter and signed up. He had spent all his life on the boats, rising from a seamen apprentice to chief of the boat. His wife dead several years now and the kids moved away he had not been off the boat in over two years. He lived aboard. He wasn’t looking forward to retirement. When the crew had all signed on to a man to be part of Home’s maritime patrol he hoped he would be accepted also. It looked that at least for the next few years he would still be on the boat.
“How soon will we get to Trenaport?” The captain asked looking up at the man who had taught her ship handling, and then later agreed to be her chief.
“Four days.” The chief said, “The course is laid in.”
“Timmy,” The captain walked onto her small bridge.
“Yes Captain,” The helmsman responded.
“As per our current orders, take us to Trenaport Harbor at best speed,” She returned, “And Timmy?”
“Yes ma’am,” the helmsman started to bring the rescue boat on the course the chief had laid in to navigation console.
“Make her roar!” Captain McNally ordered.
“Aye ma’am,” Timmy called “Make her roar.” He keyed the PA system. “All hands prepare for fast transit! Secure the weather decks. If no negative report, I am going to full throttle in two, one, and full throttle!” He reached forward and pushed the throttles to their stops. The thirty ton ocean class rescue cutter rose up on its skirts and leaped forward as the jets filled the plenum chamber and propelled the ship like a bat out of hell. When the ship settled onto her course and speed the crew was able to move around the one hundred foot long boat that was now as stable as any hover craft could be.
“Chief let’s start getting the rescue equipment broken down for transshipment. We’ll leave the nav and sensor platform up we’ll need that to get to port. But secure the guns, just like we were going into dry dock for a refit. Anything we can secure en route let’s get it done. Get me our inventory. I want to know what supplies we need and get an order waiting for us in Trenaport when we get there.”
“Aye ma’am” the chief replied.
Every Last Mother's Child Page 90