“Because I thought it might be a good investment?” she said, shrugging. “I don’t want to own the ship itself, since I know nothing about freelance shipping. I just plan to turn the title over to the captain. Once you say yes.”
“I appreciate what you’re offering, but I know how much the Dawn had to cost you. You don’t make that kind of ‘investment’ without wanting something for it. As much cred as you had to swing to do it, those are going to be some damned hefty strings.”
He couldn’t believe he was about to walk out on the one thing he wanted more than anything. But he was pretty sure that was exactly what he was going to do. “Thanks for the coffee and for getting my Shipmaster certs cleaned for me.”
“Don’t you want to know what I want in exchange for it? Before you leave?”
He hauled in a heavy breath, holding it for several seconds before he let it leak back out. He set his hands flat on the table and tensed to push himself away, but he just couldn’t do it.
Frak. I have to know.
“Fine. Tell me,” he said, looking down at the empty cup. “You’re on borrowed time so talk quick.”
“All I want is the right to pick some of the jobs you take. Only once in a while.” She looked up at him, and her face said there was something else she wanted to add to that statement.
The caveat of doom.
“Pick some jobs?” he asked. “I won’t carry illegal cargo, so if that’s what you’re thinking we’re done.”
“Oh no, nothing like that,” she said, her face showing genuine shock at the suggestion.
“Then what kind of jobs?”
“You know I lost almost my whole family on Starlight, and I can’t let that go without looking into it more thoroughly,” she said. “The jobs I am talking about would be things that might shine some light into the corners of what happened.”
“You need a science vessel for that,” he said. “The Olympus Dawn is a cargo ship.”
“I know that. But they’ve quarantined the whole system, so we couldn’t get close enough to do a study, anyway.” She paused and cocked her head to the side. “Have you read any of the reports from the Magellan yet?”
“I’ve tried not to. It burns a bit looking at what happened,” he said. “And I didn’t think they’d released anything yet.”
“Not officially,” she said. “Elias is still out there, and he’s pushed me a little of the inside scan. They’re saying it was a virus.”
“That sounds plausible,” Walker said. He eased himself back into his chair. He wasn’t sure he would keep his seat, but her proposal intrigued him enough to listen a while longer.
“No it doesn’t,” she said. “You were clean when you came back. We all were.”
“Just because we didn’t step in the alien goo, doesn’t mean it’s not possible.”
“Then explain the power drain that took out Marti’s automech,” she challenged. “Every bit of the hardware in the entire colony was wiped clean and sucked to the bone.”
“That is odd,” he acknowledged.
“Unfortunately, that isn’t the thing that bothers me the most.” She leaned forward and set her elbows on the table. “If it was a virus, explain to me why trained medical staff would lock those kids in a room with an open air vent?”
He drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. “And then they set up an explosive trap to protect them. You don’t use a bomb to stop a virus.”
“Exactly my thought,” she said.
“Let’s say I agree that things stink like a blown recycler line,” he said. “What do you expect to do with a freighter? If they’ve locked down K-186, we won’t be able to stick our nose in there.”
“Right now, I don’t have any ideas,” she said. “What I do know is that indie crews talk to each other, and if something is blowing sidewise, they’d be the ones to know.”
“You bought the Olympus Dawn so I could chase rumors for you?”
She nodded. “So, we can.”
“We?”
“Yah you need a ship medic,” she said. “I think I might be qualified.”
And there’s the caveat, he thought.
“You are frakking with me, yes?” He laughed at the absurdity of the idea. “You’re the heir to one of the ten wealthiest families in the entire Coalition, and you expect me to believe you want to roster in on a freighter crew.”
“Well, losing the investment we put into Starlight almost put Smythe Biomedical into receivership,” she said, smiling with half her face. “It was a huge gamble, and we crapped out.”
“What exactly was your wager in that blasted piece of barren dust?” he asked. “It certainly wasn’t going to become a vacation destination for the rich and ludicrous.”
“There were mineral deposits that are essential to recreating one of the Shan Takhu medical devices,” she said. “It was how we swung the lease on the proxy chamber we were carrying.”
“The what?”
“It would take a while to explain,” she said. “Let’s say it’s one of the most important technologies to come out of the Tacra Un, and the only place we’ve found this critical mineral is on Shadetree.”
“So, your family was bankrolling a mining mission in hell.” he said. “That doesn’t change your royal lineage.”
“Do you know how much I resent that?” she said, the flash in her eyes telling him he’d landed on a raw nerve.
“I can’t believe I’m even considering this,” he said, getting up and walking over to pour himself another cup of coffee.
“I can’t believe I’m doing it either,” she said. She grabbed the thinpad and scrolled to the end of a long file before she pressed her thumb against the screen. “That’s the contract transferring title. The Olympus Dawn is yours.”
She handed it to him. “No strings.”
He stared at the file for almost a minute, unable to make his mind focus on the writing. His hands shook as he struggled to accept the reality that the ship was really his.
“Just seal the transfer,” she said.
He set the thinpad down on the table and pressed his thumbprint onto the screen beside hers.
“Now, Captain Walker, since you have several positions you will need to fill, I would like to post formally as chief medical officer of the Olympus Dawn. I think I’m qualified,” she said. “If you choose me for your crew, I assume there’s some kind of standard contract I’ll need to execute so you’ll feel comfortable that I won’t overstep.”
He nodded. “If I can somehow wrap my brain around the insane reality of you wanting to serve on a freighter, I will need to set one condition right up front. While I’m willing accept the idea that you might have jobs, you’d like us to take, when you’re on my ship, you will never contradict an order I give. This applies whether it’s for your mission or one we get through normal channels.”
“Agreed,” she said. “Your authority is absolute.”
“Then I think we’ve got a deal,” he said. “Now if you don’t mind, I think I need to catch my old crew before they post to another ship.”
“I don’t think that will be a problem,” she said, grinning. “They’re all waiting in the hall.”
“They are?”
“I knew you’d have some vacancies to fill.”
THE END
Dust
of the
Deep
Wings of Earth: Book Two
ERIC MICHAEL CRAIG
Chapter One
The Saknussemm was old and tired. Sometimes, when it dropped out of cruise, it misbehaved. After a longer run, the drive coils were prone to kick off. It was no surprise that they were sitting on their thumbs for a while before they could bring the ship around and make their way through the dust shell.
Cygnus Gamma-670 was an odd approach, anyway. It was a binary star system with an extra red dwarf companion in a wide orbit a half light year out. Somewhere in its not too distant history the three stars had danced a little too close and as a result it
had a dense Oort debris field almost a light month out from the primaries. That meant it wasn’t safe to drop out from cruise any closer. Fortunately, gravitational shepherding from the outer star had squeezed the shell into a thin zone along the line of the orbiting companion and it only took a couple days at sub-light to break through the clutter. From that point, there was almost nothing downhill, and it was safe to cruise again to within a light hour of their destination.
“Engineering reports photon discharge flyback clipped the coils again,” the pilot said, shaking her head and adding an eye roll for emphasis.
Captain Tomas glanced at her and winked. It was almost a ritual for them to sit for a while when they entered a system so that engineering could glue parts back in place. “As flush as Makhbar is, you’d think he’d be able to pop for better than this recycler biscuit of a barge.”
“Even if he won’t buy us a shiny boat, a serious stay in a real maintenance shop would help. The buffer plates are worn so thin we’re lucky to not be pre-cooking our food every time we drop out of cruise,” she said.
“I’m not as worried about the food, but I don’t want to have three-headed children,” the navigator added. “Drive radiation is a bad idea for family planning.”
“Yah, but he doesn’t pay us this kind of cred to drive a slick ship,” the captain said. “He does it so we’ll keep quiet and suck up the blowback for running deep legs with no flight plan. Looking ugly is part of the plan.”
“Is it really that important that they keep this dig secret?” the navigator asked as she punched in their new heading so it would be ready when the engines came back up.”
“Don’t know, but the Doctor thinks so,” the captain said. “Xenoarchaeology is a good living and laying a claim to a hot property makes a showrunner more money than god. Keeping a lid on it is worth a fair load of concern.”
“Boss are we expecting company?” she asked, sitting forward and glaring at a display on her console.
“Not that I know, why?” he asked. The hair on the back of his head would have stood up if he had any.
“There’s a ship approaching,” she said. “ETA seven minutes.”
“Put it on screen.” The image of the unexpected visitor appeared. It was dark gray and looked to be a medium sized ship. Maybe a freighter. Other than that, it was hard to see much detail as far off as it was. “What’s the range?”
“Almost five light minutes,” she said.
“What is it?” The captain eased himself down into the command seat.
“Fast,” the navigator said. “It’s running above half-light.”
“It’s skirting the edge of the Oort field,” the pilot added. “Roughly from the vicinity of CG-670 III.”
“Can you ID it?” the captain asked.
“Negative, they’ve got no transponder,” the navigator said.
“Excuse me?” the pilot asked.
“Da, she’s flying no colors,” she said.
The hair on the rest of the captain’s body joined the nervous twitch-fest of the ghost hair on his head. “That’s frakking nogo. Is it a raider?”
“They just hit it,” she said. “If it is, they’re not going to let us walk.”
Punching in on the commlink the captain barked, “Engineering, are the drive coils still down?”
“Aye, sir, the breakers all grounded this time and we’ve got to recharge before we can jump to cruise. Maybe twenty minutes.”
The navigator shook her head.
Not enough time.
“We’ve got a raider coming at us. You’ve got less than seven,” he said. “Throw everything you’ve got at it.”
“Everything?” the engineer asked.
“Yah, the gravity, life-support, anything. We’ve got to get feet under us.”
Snapping off the com, he shook his head. “Helm get us flipped around I don’t want to be pointing down system through the cloud when the engines come back.”
“Heading?”
“Back the way we came,” he said. “It doesn’t matter. Just get us out of here.”
“Stand by for null gravity,” the engineer reported over the shipwide.
“All personnel, inertial compensation is offline, prepare for maneuvering thrusters,” the pilot said, jumping in on the heels of the gravity warning.
“It’s the best we can do,” she added.
“They’re still accelerating,” the navigator said. Her voice sounded like she was about to shake herself apart. “We’ve got three minutes before they’re in weapons range. And it looks like they’ve got teeth.”
The ship did have teeth, big ones. Four large beam weapons sat mounted to the raider’s field coil assemblies and at least two smaller guns were visible on the nose section. They were not trying to hide anything about their intent. Their guns were glowing hot and ready.
The captain glanced back up at the screen as the floor plating shut off and the room shifted. He hadn’t done zero gravity training for a long time, but he was sure it was a lot harder on the ground pounders downstairs. For them there was little doubt it was going to be a full-on marge-hurl.
“We’re so foobed,” the pilot said.
“Captain, we are being hailed,” the ship’s AA said.
“Put it on,” he said.
“Saknussemm, this is Captain Kendrick Jetaar of the Blackwing,” the other captain growled. “Who of you has the displeasure of making my acquaintance?”
“This is Captain Skip Tomas,” he said, clearing his throat. “We’re a science vessel and we’re not here to cause you any stink.”
He laughed. “Well, Cap’n Skippy, I hate to say it, but your momma didn’t like you much to give you a name like that. I hope you’re smarter than your name sounds.”
“Engineering says two minutes on the coils,” the navigator whispered.
“Let me explain your new reality,” Jetaar said. “You have exactly one option that leads to your survival. Stand down and prepare to be boarded. Or you will never live to see those coils finish charging.”
“We’re a science transport vessel. We’ve got nothing of value. We’re only hauling passengers.”
“Listening isn’t your strong suit, is it Skippy?” he said. “Cut your power-up on the drive or we will cut it off for you.” A beam flashed and the end of the HD Sensor mast vaporized in a cloud of molten metal. “Next one targets engineering. You can’t run, and resistance is irrelevant. Stand down.”
Captain Tomas nodded and the pilot sent word to the engineer.
“We’re off the pedal,” he said. “What are you looking for? Whatever it is I’m sure it’s not here.”
“I’m sure it is,” Jetaar said. “Put on a pot of Escabosa for me. I’m sure you picked some up on your last transfer. If you show me and my crew some hospitality, you might come through this alive.”
Chapter Two
“All good adventures start in taverns,” Rene said as he settled into the seat across the table from Captain Walker.
The engineer sat two cups on the table and Ethan looked at them skeptically. It almost felt strange to be sitting in the mid-deck lounge on the Olympus Dawn after having come so close to losing the ship. “This isn’t much of a tavern,” he said. “And hauling cargo isn’t much of an adventure. If you’re doing it right.”
He leaned back, laced his fingers behind his head, and yawned. “I do have to admit that it feels good not to live under the threat of losing it all again.”
“Unless you get drunk and wager the title against a bust hand of chips,” the engineer said.
“Rene Pascalle, always the cynic,” he said, winking. “I don’t think you’ve got anything to worry about though. I’m through with gambling and drinking. And probably women, too.” he said.
“Nuko’s not going to like that,” Rene said.
“Yah, that’s a little awkward I guess,” he said.
“Neither of you expected to be here this morning,” he said. “She talked to me about what happened between the t
wo of you and I think you’re safe. All I will say about it is that it’s a good thing you’re better at running a ship than you are at relationships.”
“With a ship, I’ve only got to be responsible,” Ethan said. “That’s easier than… well, I have two ex-wives who prove I lack in the other stuff.”
“You always were the responsible type,” Rene said. “That’s probably why you have two exes. At least now you don’t have to argue all the time to get your way.”
“There is that,” he said. He reached out, picked up a cup, and sniffed it carefully. “That’s not pseudojo is it?”
Rene shook his head.
“This is real coffee?” he took a sip and almost gasped in shock.
“Yah, sure is,” the engineer said, grinning. “There was a crate in the airlock this morning with a new VAT dispenser system in it. A note in the box said it was a peace offering. Then this afternoon we got an order of provisions and it included ten cases of real coffee. And not of the cheap variety either. I assume you didn’t order it?”
“Not me. I like pseudojo,” he lied.
From the engineer’s expression, it was obvious that he knew better. “It has to be Kaycee. Maybe she figures it will make up for things.”
Ethan took a sip and smiled. “In my book it might. But seriously, in spite of the coffee, I expect to have problems with the good Dr. Caldwell.”
“I thought you told her you’d vent her if she gave you pushback.”
“I did, but I don’t think she believed me,” he said.
“She’s probably not alone in that opinion,” he said, picking up his own cup and smiling as he took in a deep smell of the coffee. “It will be hard to tell her no when she bought your ship back for you. I can’t believe she just signed it over and wants nothing in return.”
“Yah, I know. I’m still waiting for the devil to come knocking to collect on that one,” the captain said. “Just between us, I can’t deny I feel a bit obligated to her. That’s why I agreed to let her post as medic, but I’ll be damned if I’ll let her use my sense of owing her to let her drive the way things work.”
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