First Principles: Samair in Argos: Book 3 (12 page)

              “Not another huge installation like the Kutok mine, ma’am?” one of the techs, the young zheen Kay’grax asked. 

              “No,” she agreed.  “I’m thinking that if the demand for resources continues to rise, and I’m hoping it will, then instead of making the station bigger, we can build another one.”

              “Ma’am, isn’t this idea rather expensive?” Eretria asked.

              “Only a little, Ms. Sterling,” Tamara replied.  “We’ll be transferring the extraction and refining tech off the ship over to the station, and expanding what we need to.  That will cover some of the initial costs, but you’re right.  Until we start increasing our revenue stream, the costs of this are going to come out of pocket for the company.  And I intend that this is going to increase our revenue, because it will free us this ship to work on other construction projects, like the repair and construction slip that we’re going to build.  But that will be after we get the mining station built.”

              “And we’re going to build more of these
Testudo
cargo ships?” Kay’grax asked.

              Tamara nodded, watching the crowd of engineers.  Most of them seemed pleased by their boss’s revelation.  They were always in the mood for new challenges, new projects… so long as the money kept coming in.  None of them were doing this out of pure altruism.  Her employees didn’t work on He3, and if the pay stopped, the work stopped.

              “Yes, but those are more of a fit to order sort of thing.  We’d been using the Kutok mine’s shuttles to carry He3 and processed minerals to the orbital, as well as the tanker for the He3, but the shuttles were just insufficient.  These
Testudos
will be able to carry half as much again in the way of minerals and fly about five to six percent faster.”  She held up her hands as the crowd started mumbling.  “I know, five percent sounds negligible.  But every little bit helps.  Are there any questions?”

              “I assume we’re looking at overtime, ma’am?” Hekcion asked, one of the human males who had joined up in the last month.

              She chuckled.  “Yes, overtime is approved.”  There were cheers from the group, and Hekcion grinned beatifically.  “And probably will be until we get the mining station up and running.”  More cheers.  “Any other questions?  No?  All right then.  You’ll be seeing duty assignments in the next hour or so, so everyone rack out and eat while you can.  We’re getting started tomorrow at 0700, nice and early.  That’s all, guys.  Thank you.”

              Eretria and Kay’grax stayed behind as the welders and technicians filed out; there were nearly two hundred now, amazing considering the
Samarkand
had started with ten.  The cavernous construction bay of the ship seemed much more crowded and busy these days.  “I think the gang was more excited about the overtime than they were about the actual project, ma’am,” Eretria said with a grin.  Kay’grax hissed his laughter.

              Tamara shrugged.  “Probably.  But most of them are here for the paycheck,” she reminded them.  “But they do good work.  I can’t blame them if they’re not all that concerned about building up infrastructure for both the company and the system as a whole.”

              “Ma’am, considering what just happened in the last few weeks,” Kay’grax put in, “is building more infrastructure really the smart move?  Shouldn’t we be building up more defenses?  I mean, we got those orbital defense turrets by the Kutok mine, and Leader Korqath is planetside looking to recruit more pilots.  And I heard through rumor-net that FP is looking to actually build corvette number two.”

              “What’s your point, Kay’grax?” she asked the half-share engineman.  The zheen had really stepped up in the previous months, showing his skill and his ability to think on his feet.  Tamara had another round of ratings exams scheduled in a few weeks and according to her own entry into rumor-net, Tamara had discovered that he wasn’t satisfied with his current rating.  He was studying for a full share Machinist rating, something she heartily approved of.  If he passed the test, she’d give him the rating and they’d all be luckier for it.

              “My point, ma’am, is that if not for a healthy bowl of luck, ma’am, the attack on the Kutok mine would have succeeded.  If not for divine intervention, the
Leytonstone
would have smashed our defenses and gotten through.  I mean, that missile trick of yours was great, but it was only because the ship’s shields were down and her offensive and point defense fire was so light that you managed to sneak it up her kilt like that.”

              “I know,” she said, crossing her arms under her breasts.  “There really is only so much that can be done, I’m afraid.  And you’re right, we did get extremely lucky and we lost a lot of good people in the process.  Irreplaceable people, both crewing the ships and fighters as well as on the station.  We do need more and better defenses.  But we have to keep the money coming in and we have to continue to grow if we are going to afford more and better defenses.”  She gave a gallic shrug.  “I have to make choices and for the moment, freeing up the
Samarkand
seems the way to go forward.”

              “I know from a commercial standpoint it’s the way to go ma’am,” Eretria agreed.  But then she shrugged.  “But I know that you were as upset as the rest of us when the
Kara
and the
Leytonstone
attacked us.  Oh, when are the fighters going to be ready from the
Grania Estelle
?”

              “Well, we get the first load of six tomorrow at 1200 just before they depart.”  Tamara ran a hand through her hair and smiled.  “I just authorized their replicators for a load of spare parts for their engines and hyperdrives.  I think the good Captain Eamonn wants to get the old girl up and running at full capacity again.  So they’ll transfer the new
Zlk’vzn
fighters over to the station by then.  And then it will be up to us to flesh out the fighters.”

              “Are we going to replenish the older
Sepulcre
fighters?  There are still seven left.”

              Tamara pursed her lips.  “I haven’t decided yet.  I know the new fighters are more advanced.  I’ll discuss it with Korqath.  He’s rather attached to those birds.  There might be a few improvements that we can make that aren’t too expensive.  But the Delphons get the first crack at the new fighters.  Though the fact that there’s only one remaining pilot and ship means it’s something of a moot point.  They will have to get new ships and pilots to reconstitute the squadron anyway.”

              Korqath, Hukriss and the last remaining pilot of the Delphon squadron, a human woman named Falynn Stenlake, were sitting in a bar down on the planet in the city of Caridas.  FP had done a fair amount of business here and the company was slowly making inroads into contacts.  They’d recruited eleven people here in the last month and Korqath, the leader of the FP starfighter squadrons had decided that this was the best place to start looking for new recruits.

              “Why out of all the places you could have picked to find pilots did you have to pick this shithole?” Falynn complained, taking a sip of the golden liquor in her glass.  She grimaced and nearly spit it out.  “Ugh, this rotgut is awful.”  She pushed the glass away.

              Hukriss hissed a chuckle, his antennae waggling.  “It iz pretty bad, Korqath.”  He, however, had no problem throwing back his shot of Garvani’s Reserve.  It was very cheap, probably could be substituted for an engine degreaser. 

              “Fine,” the leader said, clacking his mandibles.  “The next time we go out, we’ll hit the high end resort hotel bars and
you
can pick up the tab.”

              The bar was a dump, to put it mildly.  It didn’t even have the sloppy charm to be called a dive.  The booths upholstery were cracked and split, the floor was filthy, and the tables hadn’t been cleaned in probably a year.  The staff was surly, but at least the booze was bad, Korqath thought.  There was a mix of patrons, who apparently wanted to risk the ambiance and possible poisoning simply because the drinks were cheap.  They all looked as though they were eager for a fight and every so often they would glance over at the three company pilots.  Korqath had suggested, prudently, that they not wear their company issued flight gear and had shown up in civilian clothes.  Falynn was the only one who actually looked comfortable, as both of the zheen tended to live in either their ship suits or their flight gear.  The young woman was dressed in what could be reasonably called “going out” clothing, tight jeans with knee high dark brown leather boots, a black tank top and a brown leather bomber jacket.  Her dark brown hair was tied back and her bright eyes continued to scan the room, as though she was looking for target lock.

              “Who exactly are you expecting to find, Leader?” Falynn asked, turning to look over at him.

              “Diamonds, Falynn,” Korqath replied.  “Sometimes you have to dig through a lot of dirt and a lot of other crap to find the diamonds you want.”  He nodded to a group of men that were watching them from a table across the bar.  “And I think those five might be the ones we’re looking for.  At least they seem mildly interested in us, unlike the rest of the bar, who have completely ignored us.”

              “This isn’t what we did the last time, Leader,” Hukriss complained.  “Last time we posted information on the orbital’s datanet and gave times to come and talk to a recruiter.”

              “Then why the hell aren’t we doing that again?” Falynn demanded.  She tried to keep her gaze neutral, but it was clear that she was uncomfortable in this place.  “Sure seems a lot safer.”

              “Bah!  Where’s your sense of adventure?” Korqath laughed.

              “My sense of adventure is very healthy and happy, thank you,” she retorted.  “I went up against a battlecruiser in one of the
Lancer
fighters, not one of those fancy ass
Sepulcres
.  Pure decadence over there, Leader.”

              Hukriss hissed laughter.  “She’s got you there, boss.”

              “Quiet, you!” the lead pilot snapped, though his tone was light.  The group of men was starting to chatter more, looking less at each other and their drinks than they were at Korqath and the others.  “And I think we’re starting to get some attention.”

              Falynn sighed.  “Great.”

              Two of the men rose to their feet and walked over, their drinks still in hand.  Upon getting closer, one of them smiled.  “Hey, there, little lady.  I haven’t seen you around here before.  What are you doing here with these bugs?”

              Hukriss bristled, but Korqath laid a steadying hand on his fellow’s arm.  Falynn looked the two over appraisingly.  Both were tall, much more so than the two zheen and were about a head taller than she was.  They were thin, reasonably athletic, though one of them clearly had a bit of a beer belly.  Neither looked all that washed, nor did they smell all that good.

              She raised an eyebrow.  “I’m here enjoying some of this terrible piss-water with my friends here,” she said, indicating the zheen.

              One of the men, the one with the belly, guffawed.  “Haw!  She’s got that right.”  He held up his glass of beer, two thirds empty.  “This crap is terrible.”  He put the glass to his lips and gulped it down.  “Ahhh!”

              Falynn wrinkled her nose.  “Is there something I can help you boys with?”

              The other one nodded.  “Yeah, how about you ditch these bugs and come keep some real men company?” 

              She shook her head.  “No thanks.  I’m already sitting with a pair of real men.”

              “What?  These two?  I could squash that one,” he indicated a seething Hukriss, “under my boot!”

              She shrugged.  “Maybe.  But I’ve seen him fly a starfighter right to the edge to evade incoming fire from a battlecruiser.  Takes a lot more than drinking this shit and bullying people in a bar to impress me.”

              “Wait, what?” the thinner one asked.  “A battlecruiser?”

              “Yeah,” Falynn said, leaning forward, putting her elbows on the table in front of her.  “We’re fighter pilots.”

              It was clear they didn’t believe her.  “Fighter pilots?”

              She nodded.  “We fly for FP.  Know where we can find people that can fly?  We’re looking to hire.”

              He shook his head.  “Back up.  What’s this about a battlecruiser?”

              She gestured to Korqath?  “Leader?  You got that holo projector?  Show ‘em.”

              The zheen pulled the small palm-sized disc from a pocket and set it on the table.  Extracting his datapad, he pressed a few commands and the holo emitter lit up, projecting an image of the
Leytonstone
about a foot above the table.  “Whoa!” the man exclaimed, impressed.

              The slight commotion was drawing interest from the rest of the bar patrons.  After a moment, people started coming over to see what everyone was looking at.  At that point, Korqath was showing images of the battlecruiser, as well as his
Sepulcre
fighters and Falynn’s
Lancer
.  Then he showed a replay of some of the battle maneuvers, and the three pilots gave commentary from their own perspective as well as explaining what they had been trying to accomplish, high-risk maneuvers they’d pulled and eventually the outcome of the battle.