Shiver Me Timbers

by Chris Hechtl

  “Ah, well, that we can do. Do you have any idea on, um, how to word that exactly?”

  “I can forward you something. Do you have any mail headed in that direction?”

  “Oh! Yes, I can look into that as well. If you are willing to carry it, I'd certainly love to pass on mail to our neighbors. We're still recovering, but we've been hearing good things about some of what your people can do. And we'd like to take part in that—trade in other words.”

  “Thank you, Governor. We're just trying to do our part.”

  “No, Captain, thank you.”

  <()>^<()>

  Lebynthos

  Lieutenant Kellogg nodded as they finished up the runway. It wasn't for the spaceport, just an air strip runway on one of the many islands on the planet. But it was a step in the right direction.

  Since the planet had a lot of islands and way too much water, the natives had been reliant on ships for travel for centuries. But recently their return contact with the Federation had introduced them to the wonders of bush planes. Bush planes were simpler to operate than an air car. The aircraft could also be mostly native built; only the engines needed to be built and imported from off world. The planes allowed them to move goods and people around the planet quickly. They were growing in number.

  Shuttles could go further with an orbital hop of course. But there were only two on the planet, both salvaged and rebuilt.

  “So you do this often?” a guy in Bermuda shorts asked.

  “When we're not building hospitals, bases, or whatever else is needed,” the lieutenant replied with a shrug.

  “Bases?”

  “Yeah. We usually build bases for the military. But in a pinch we can help with disaster relief or with stuff like this. This is fairly simple. Don't get me started on the complexities of making a hydroelectric dam or a bridge.”

  “Bases, huh?” the guy said again, adjusting his straw hat. He went over to the bar and bought a pair of drinks and came back with them. He handed one to the lieutenant.

  The lieutenant studied the brown glass and then the sun. Hell, it wasn't quite noon but it was five o'clock somewhere. Why not he thought. “Yeah, honestly, I thought that was what we were going to be doing first. The Marines need a good solid base, maybe more than one. And so does the Army and Special Forces …”

  <()>^<()>

  “Governor Shaver, I'd like to thank you and your people for the fish,” Commodore Richards said with a small smile and polite head nod. “The fresh provisions will be much appreciated along with the recipes.”

  She had been informed when they'd arrived that the planet's small population had been alerted to her convoy's passage and had stockpiled fish for them. A lot of fish it turned out, tons and tons of it. She knew it wasn't a gift but she appreciated it.

  Whether she'd appreciate a steady diet of it after a month or so was anyone's guess.

  She had dispatched one of her escorts to travel ahead of them to visit Icaria. The star system was in a cul-de-sac off of Lebynthos. If the plague was confirmed there, they would have to divert some or all of the convoy to go there. If it wasn't she'd send an escort on ahead to scout Cenarius off of Tau-X3301 while the convoy followed at their best speed.

  That was the plan at any rate. But, the cruiser hadn't returned yet so her people were enjoying some time on the planet. Half were on liberty while the other half were busy visiting schools, hospitals, and clinics and doing their best to upgrade them to Federation standards.

  While they were doing that, the Army Corps of Engineers were back at it on the planet. They had limited equipment; some of which they had to make in the field. They'd expected to get more constructed in the capital but had been denied. They just had to make do, which they were. Not without a bit of grumbling though.

  She had let them have half of the support ship's resources to compensate. Lieutenant Kellogg had become marginally less of a pain in the ass after that.

  “So, what's this I hear about basing?”

  “Basing? As in what, baseball?”

  The governor's expression went blank. “Baseball?”

  “It's a game. I guess you haven't heard of it.”

  “Um, no.”

  “Well, not many open fields here and it is primarily a Terran thing,” Helen replied. “So, basing as in building a base?”

  “Yes. A Marine base, Army base, hospital complex …”

  “We're building the hospital complexes for you.”

  “Yes, but what about a naval base? We'd like to do more here. And we heard the Marines and others aren't getting the support they need in Tau-1252. No surprise since it is a space colony star system, or so I've heard.”

  Helen nodded. He's heard a lot of things she thought.

  “Why don't we have dinner and we can talk about it.”

  Helen cocked her head.

  “We're having a fish cookout on the beach. We've got lobsters and clams. It's not quite a clam bake; I heard you've experienced those,” he said.

  She nodded. They had them on ET. She'd had a few when she'd been younger and her family had visited the coast. “Okay, sure,” she said with a smile. “I prefer an informal get together over a stuffy shirt event any day.”

  He smiled. “We don't do formal meetings here that often. We're pretty laid back. Besides, I'd hate to have to dress up in the summer heat.”

  “Well, that's certainly true!” Helen said. “You don't have a problem with hurricane season?”

  “We've got two we're watching. Thank you again for the satellites; they are helping to spot them and predict their path to give us warning. That has saved a lot of lives. It would be nice to divert the things from ever making landfall, but we'll take what we can get.”

  She nodded. “People have tinkered with ways to control the weather for ages. To do it right you need an incredible amount of infrastructure and computer support. We don't even have that level in Rho …yet.”

  “Ah. And my planet can ill afford it at this time. But we're growing and changing. So …”

  “When do you want me?” she asked with another smile.

  He took his straw hat off and fanned himself with it a few times before putting it back on. “When can you be available?”

  “Does five work?”

  “Five is fine. I'll have the drinks put on ice. We've got that ice maker going; thank you again for that. And we've got fans and air conditioning too if the heat on the beach lingers over long. Dress appropriately,” he said.

  “Will do, though you may not want to see these legs, I haven't shaved in days.”

  He smiled. “I'm sure you'll be fine,” he said.

  She still privately vowed to get a little quality time with a razor before she put a skirt on though. And, from the hints he was dropping, she might want to give Shelby a heads-up later.

  <()>^<()>

  Lieutenant Kellogg was surprised initially that the population favored sheep and other wool producing animals over growing cotton. It was only when he'd suffered through his first rainstorm that he'd figured out why.

  Cotton products were poor for clothes in the bush. It soaked up water and could cause hypothermia. It was hard to dry, which was why it was best to wear nylon or wool. Since the natives also had ships, their lines had to be made out of hardy materials that didn't absorb water and become a mess as well.

  They lacked nylon or the ability to make nylon products so wool was the next best option. It sucked in the summer heat though. He made a note to recommend investing in chemical works to his straw hat friend the next time they crossed paths.

  He was still “woolgathering” when he got a call in. To his surprise it was from the ansible with fresh orders from his chain of command to do site surveys for potential bases.

  Well, the retasking would add to his workload, but since they weren't going anywhere anytime soon, he didn't mind. Besides, it would let him spend time looking over satellite imagery and even a bush plane trip or two to scout potential bases.

  <()>
^<()>

  When Helen heard about the ansible traffic to Antigua, she became intrigued. She became wary when she heard that it had something to do with Lieutenant Kellogg at the insistence of Governor Shaver.

  <()>^<()>

  Purple Skies

  Captain Yu grimaced as she read the latest report from the medics. Her people were doing their best, but the damage inflicted on the population was heartbreaking to see. To some it seemed a mercy to put the brain-damaged victims out of their misery. But her medics refused to do that.

  With the help of her task force, the planet's population was slowly rising from the plagues. She knew it would be generations before they were fully restored to their previous population levels. The human survivors had a bitterness about them when her people had explained who had inflicted the plagues on them and why. She very much doubted Horath would ever make much headway on that planet, though she could see how their attempts at driving other sentients primal had a negative effect on her own species. It was defensive according to the psychologists.

  But with time and a lot of medical help, they and their neighbors would hopefully be able to reconnect.

  She was grateful for the courier from the capital. Shelby had sent along news and updates. The fact that the Western Mission II had kicked off was very welcome news for her crew and letting them know the progress in the capital and abroad helped morale.

  She also appreciated Shelby's “gift” of the courier. She'd asked for one but Shelby had been greedy and had wanted to hoard the little ships. At least with the arrival of the Mercy Missions, she'd loosened her grip on them a bit. The courier would definitely be handy to keep in contact with the capital and with Captain Twitch and Good Hope.

  <()>^<()>

  Tau-Bin63A4

  Six ships arrived in the star system and after some intense negotiations with the governor magistrate, made orbit around the star system's second inhabited world.

  Captain Twitch was grateful to be able to do something. Apparently, Captain Yu had broken ground a bit with the governor, and time had gotten him to soften his intense position against their “interference.” At least, that was how the captain had put it in the messenger buoy she'd left behind in the star system.

  After the three jumps to the star system through dead star systems, he was heartily grateful to be able to debark and put his skills to the test.

  <()>^<()>

  Magistrate Scrooge scratched under his chin as he considered the Federation. He was not thrilled about their interference, but he could see economic opportunities in their traveling through his system and even trading with them. And, if they seriously were the Federation and were intent on removing the pirate threat once and for all, all the better.

  Just having them around had helped him establish and strengthen ties with his star system's sister world. They had been battered by the plagues. He'd thought he could exploit their market opportunities but they were poor and had little to trade with. Just getting goods over to them had been tough until the Federation had shown up and rebuilt some of the shuttles.

  He looked over to Tim. The boy was progressing well as an understudy in the administration. He smiled fondly. He was quite proud of the lad. Him and Bob though—he still had problems expressing it with Bob.

  The plagues had battered him and his people but maybe the help they had been receiving from outside was changing things for the better.

  Chapter 36

  Tortuga

  The arrival of the Prometheus group in Tortuga kicked things into motion. They announced their presence with the usual flare of energy, followed up by their IFFs.

  Captain Corbin received the alert of the arrival. His Strike in the Dark was on the other side of the star system as one of the pickets. He had been busy waiting on a follow-up relief force to arrive. He'd put the remaining missile pods and weapon platforms on the jump points that the pirates were most likely to use. Unfortunately, he'd just had the two. He'd drawn missiles from the cruiser magazines to refill the empty missile pods. That hadn't gone over well with his fellow captains, but they'd accepted that having the missile pods might be worth the sacrifice.

  His chief engineer had agitated to do in-depth surveys of the ships and structures in the star system, but he'd held off. As much as he'd like to start in, it wasn't his primary concern. Now it was no longer his job.

  He had his logs as well as what files they had accumulated uploaded to Prometheus as soon as possible. No doubt Captain Trollop would want to begin her more in-depth survey of the 134 hulks in the boneyard, and the five hundred plus rocks and other platforms they'd so far identified as targets of interest as soon as possible.

  While he ordered that, he noted a light cruiser break from the gaggle of ships and begin to zip across the star system. Her IFF identified her as Zeng He.

  “Comm, lay a line on Zeng He. Let's see what they are up to,” he ordered.

  A half hour later he got a response, not by laser due to the distance by tachyon transmission. He frowned as he read the brief from Captain Zeb. “Dispatches, returning personnel, and they are going scouting?” He handed the tablet to his XO.

  “Seems that way, sir.”

  “Well, we'd definitely like our missing crew back,” the captain replied with a nod. Each of the ships had lent crew to man Red Horn. The prisoners had been returned in Xiphos, but the prize ship had still needed a crew. They'd been a bit short for some time. He was curious if he was getting a new crew or his old crew back.

  One way or another he'd find out in a few days.

  <()>^<()>

  Cynthia nodded to the courtesy calls from the various ships in the star system, but her eyes were intent on the boneyard. Tortuga's prize row had been vacated; all of the ships had been taken. The pirates had even managed to rebuild a few of the ships from the boneyard. Others had been further stripped and abused. The remaining 134 were in sad shape.

  Strike in the Dark had identified twelve warships or components of large warships in the boneyard. She immediately set them aside. Each had been heavily picked over, and a few were chunks of large warships that may or may not have been used as target practice. They might be salvageable, but it would take time and a lot of effort.

  Her first priority was to identify a hull she could use as a factory platform and habitat. She had one in mind; a liner that had been identified some time before. A Tauren bulk freighter would be added to the ship, and the duo would form a habitat for her people to work from. That way she could offload some of her excess personnel and the mega ton of cargo pods on her ship's exterior hull. It would also give her people space to store material and equipment to rebuild later as well as to get clear so they could get at other spaces within the hulks they were there to salvage.

  While her crew was doing that, she'd have to have at least one, possibly two targets in mind for retrieval for the tugs. They'd need to be dispatched ASAP. One would have to be sent to the nearest gas giant to set up a fuel refinery there while the others went off to find her two targets.

  And, she'd need to dispatch cutters with inspection and boarding teams. Not to mention robots and EOD techs to look for the alleged booby traps the pirates had supposedly sowed throughout the star system.

  While they did that, the tanker would be making the rounds to the picket ships. She had external pods for each, ship packets for supplies in her small cargo hold as well as strapped to her exterior hull. By the time she completed that mission, Cynthia had estimated she'd need the services of the ship to start drawing in fuel from the platform to replenish her ship as well as her small fleet of tugs and other craft.

  In other words, she had another two days before things started to get busy. And she was looking forward to it immensely.

  <()>^<()>

  Captain Zeb flicked his antenna back as his ship finished her business with Strike in the Dark. The last shuttle had departed. He wished he could have kept some of the supplies he'd deployed, but he fully understood why he had to leave the bulk
of them behind.

  Besides, they would have just slowed him down.

  Puglia had come close enough to get a shuttle over when he'd crossed the star system. Prometheus had the remaining personnel for Lightening Strike.

  “Shuttle on board. Boat bay officer is reporting the bay is secure,” the operations officer stated.

  “Very well. Helm, make for the jump point one half speed. Nav, begin your calculations,” the captain intoned.

  “Aye aye, sir.”

  “Rig ship for jump,” the XO stated. “All hands, begin pre-hyper flight jump checklist,” he stated over the PA.

  <()>^<()>

  Captain Corbin tucked his hands behind his back as he watched the light cruiser jump. “Safe sailing,” he murmured.

  He turned to the XO. “Where are we on the supplies?”

  “We're fully topped off. In fact, we've got a surplus in the cargo pods. The quartermaster is asking if we're supposed to share it with the other ships.”

  The captain pursed his lips thoughtfully. Taking the cargo to the other ships would expend a third as much fuel as they'd gotten in surplus. Besides, Prometheus was busy setting up the gas giant refineries. After a moment of thought over the decision, he shook his head. “No. Store it on board or we'll make a cache. For the time being, it's ours. If we are relieved, we'll leave it behind for the next guy who's stuck here on picket duty.”

  “Aye aye, sir.”

  <()>^<()>

  Lieutenant Prometheus monitored the internal ship's systems, some of the chatter of the crew, the exterior plot, as well as the chatter from the tugs. But his interest and the interest of his captain was on the first survey team.

  On their third expedition, survey team 1's lead robot had found their first act of sabotage. They little robot had tripped a trap and had set off some explosives. It destroyed the robot and inflicted some damage on the ship but much damage in the vacuum given that the locks were open. The damage just confirmed the problem for them and made their job a little harder. It meant each team had to slow down further and do more thorough checks of every square centimeter of each hulk and rock.