First Principles: Samair in Argos: Book 3 (24 page)

BOOK: First Principles: Samair in Argos: Book 3
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              “Do we have any more information on the damage that the Commander indicated?”

              “Yes, Captain, we do,” George indicated.  “Still don’t have a clear read on the ship, but it’s clear that the ship has suffered a great deal of damage.  I’m not terribly familiar with warships in general, but I can see a gaping hole in the port side.  And it looks like their engines are damaged as well and streaming neutrinos.  Can’t imagine that’s going to be easy or cheap to fix up.”

              Vincent smirked.  “No, George, I can’t imagine it will.”  Then he brightened.  “Maybe we can get Quesh to fix her up well enough to get the ship back to Seylonique where we can get Tamara and her techs to get her up and running again.  Never had a contract with the Republic before.  Might be something lucrative.”

              “We still don’t have a contract with the Republic,” Stella pointed out.  “But you’re right.  If we can secure one, it might be very lucrative.”

              Vincent nodded.  “All right.  Stand by to record a message for me.”

              “Ready, Captain,” Serinda replied.

              “Commander Crgann, this is Captain Vincent Eamonn on the FP Corporate ship
Grania Estelle
.  We have received your message and I have my medical teams standing by to assist.  We understand that you recently were in a battle at Byra-Kae and I would be grateful for any information about that that you can provide.  I’m always concerned about any forces that are willing to take on the Republic.  I also have engineering teams, but they are currently engaged in operations on the surface.  Once that is completed, I would be more than happy to speak with you about repairs to your ship.  Please contact me back with information on your wounded.  My doctor will need as much information on their condition as you can give him.  Eamonn out.”

              He turned to Serinda.  “Recorded, Captain.”

              “Send it.  And then get Turan on the line.”

              A moment’s pause and then, “Message sent.  I’ve got the doctor on the line.”

              “Captain, what’s happening?” the Guura’s voice came in.

              “There’s a Republic warship coming in,” Vincent said simply.

              “There’s a what?”

              “You heard me, Turan,” he said.  “But they’re heavily damaged and apparently loaded with casualties.  I need you and your medical staff to drop what you’re doing down there and get back up to the ship.  I know from your own reports that the need for you and your people has gone down considerably in the last few days.  The locals have their own doctors; they can spare you and your people.”

              “I understand, Captain,” the doctor said, sounding as though he was busy moving or running through corridors.  “Do we have any information into the status of the injuries?”

              “I just sent a communication to the ship in question,” Vincent replied.  “We’re waiting to hear back but it’s going to be a few minutes.  In the meantime…”

              “Yes, I’ll round up my people, make sure that they have any patients transferred over to local doctors, and then we’ll be back up to the ship.”

              He sighed.  “How long?”

              “To make sure all the patients are taken up by local doctors?  It’s going to take a couple days.  I wasn’t expecting this to be happening, Captain.  We were going to be phasing them over by the time we were going to be leaving.  I can’t just dump them.”

              “Wait one,” Vincent said.  “George, at current speed, how long will it take for that ship, what it is called, the Horse?”

              “
Horus
, Captain,” the operations officer said.

              “Yes, that,” Vincent replied.  “How long until they get here?”

              “Well, like their commander said, assuming no changes in their courses and speed, they’re going to be in orbit in thirty-two hours.  After that, without knowing the extent of the damage on their ship, who knows what their status is going to be.  They might be falling apart as it is.  I think we need to assume that they are on their last legs and need us to be ready and able to respond as they’re coming into orbit.”

              He nodded.  It was a reasonable assumption.  “Yes, I agree.  I’ll talk to Quesh, see how many of his engineering teams he can spare.”

              George and Stella exchanged looks, which was impressive, because she wasn’t physically on the bridge, just projecting an image of herself on the holo projector.  “My guess, Captain, is none.  Things are moving at a very steady pace right now and with the slowdowns because of the plasma conduits, he’s going to tell you that he needs everyone exactly where they are.  And I’m sure the Governor won’t be happy about pulling his engineering teams off the reactor project.”

              “I know that, George,” Vinent said, rubbing his forehead.  Acheron Vall had been touting the virtues of the
Grania Estelle
’s engineering teams and of the local teams as well.  They had been sticking to the schedules religiously and with the influx of fuel from the collector out at the gas giant had brought the generators up to full power.  Vincent had added another collector to make sure that there would be a surplus of fuel ready once the power plant was up.  In truth, they would need another gas mine out here to provide fuel.  The fuel needs for the people here in Heb wasn’t anywhere near what it was for the people Seylonique, and there was a great deal of fuel that was being stockpiled there.  Vincent started mentally rubbing his hands together.  They could start making a nice trade route here, fuel and food.  The growing season was exceptionally long here, allowing for two harvests for Seylonique’s one.  That would allow the company to sell food to Seylonique as well as keeping back enough to make sure that they could keep their employees out at the gas giant and the asteroid belt fed.  But it was doable.

              But he knew that the minute he started pulling his people off the power plant project, schedules would slip, people would start to lose hope and Vall would start screaming bloody murder.  “I know that,” he repeated.  “But there has to be something.  Even five or six people.  Surely Quesh can shake that many loose.  Is there anything we can do here?  Take a team off the
Grania Estelle
?”

              Stella grimaced.  “Well, we’re down to the bare minimum on what we need for a watch section, Captain.  I’m nervous about transferring out any more of the crew.  I’m monitoring things as well, but I can’t run the ship by myself.”

              “I understand.”  He sighed heavily.  He turned forward again and pressed the button.  “All right, Turan.  Try and expedite.  I want to make sure your teams are back up here when that ship makes orbit.”

              “We’ll be there, Captain,” the Guura assured him.  “Don’t worry.”

              “Very well.”  He turned back to the holo image of his AI.  “Stella, get on the line with Quesh.  Inform him of the situation, see if there’s anything he can do to shake a few people loose to help out over on the Republic warship.”

              She nodded.  “I will, Captain.”

              “And on that note, get with Saiphirelle.  We might have to bring some of the crew over here from that ship.  We might need to bring a lot of them over.  I’m getting the impression that they are exactly who they say they are, and they probably need a good deal of medical help.  But I’m not going to let
anyone
on this ship without a serious security presence up here.  I want ninety percent of the security contingent back up here.  Liaise with the locals, make sure they’re keeping an eye on our people down on the planet, but I want most everyone back up here.”

              “Yes, Captain,” the AI said.  “Absolutely.  I’m sorry I didn’t think of that myself.”

 

              “We’re coming into range of the planet, Captain,” the pilot confirmed.  “Five million kilometers from the freighter.”

              “Thank you, helm,” Brianne said.  She ran a hand over her face.  She and the rest of the crew were utterly exhausted.  Less than a day out from the orbit, one of the primary algae tanks and all the scrubbers with it had completely failed.  The already overworked engineering teams were scrambling to find some way to mock up temporary scrubbers while the rest of the crew struggled to breathe.  The air was more than a little stuffy at this point.  “Open a channel to the
Grania Estelle
.”

              The comms officer nodded and gave her the thumbs up.  “Captain Eamonn, this is Commander Crgann.”

              The main screen lit up with the man’s dark-skinned face.  He was handsome for a human, Brianne decided.  Perhaps that helped with some of his trade deals.  “We read you, Commander.  I see you’re almost here.  I have medical teams standing by on my shuttles, I can send them over to you at any time.”

              She shook her head.  “I’m afraid that won’t work, Captain.  Our life support is severely overtaxed as it is and one of the primary algae tanks just up and died on me.  Parts and the algae matrix are a total loss.”

              He nodded, grimacing.  “Understood.  What about your boat bays?”

              Brianne chuckled.  “Trashed.  They won’t hold atmo.”

              “Okay,” he said, feeling a laugh building in his chest right alongside a bubble of frustration.  “All right, what about your airlocks?  We pull alongside and we can extend a softseal docking tube.”  Because of the design of the
Grania Estelle
, the external airlocks on either side of the ship were located in the forward section, which was in the shape of a tall, blocky wedge.  But because of the huge cargo bays on the sides of the ship, the one hundred and eighty meter destroyer simply wouldn’t be able to pull alongside the freighter and hard dock.  With the shuttles out of the equation, this was the only way to do it.

              “Not the greatest of options, but it will have to do.”

              “Commander, now I don’t want to insult you, your ship or your pilot,” Vincent said, trying to sound delicate, “But my sensors are showing a nasty amount of damage to your main propulsion units and to your control thrusters.  I think it might be easier if you just slow down, make orbit and let my ship close the difference.”  He saw the Secaaran start to frown, but he soldiered on.  “We’ll close the distance and then use the tractoring beam to hold your ship in place so we can extend the docking tube.”

              She scowled, but then she nodded.  “Very well, Captain.  We’re going to continue deceleration maneuvers, and we should be in position within twenty-five minutes.”

              “Very good, Commander.  We’ll be ready.”

 

              “All right, Isis.  Nice and easy.  George, you and Stella are on the tractoring beam.”

              “Aye, Captain,” they chorused.

              “Commander Crgann, are you ready?”

              “Our engines are offline, Captain Eamonn,” Brianne confirmed.  “We’re on thrusters only.”  She gestured to someone outside of the vid pickup.  “My helmsman is hands off, Captain.”

              “Thank you, Commander,” he said.  “All right, people, let’s do this.”

              It was a strange sight from an outsider’s perspective.  The kilometer-long bulk freighter was inching closer to the ship that was less than a fifth its size.  Crew not involved in the docking were lining up at the armor glass ports to watch the two ships attempt a docking maneuver.  It was strange, like seeing a shark approaching a remora.

              “One hundred meters,” Isis called, her hands on the controls.  “Seventy-five.”

              When she called fifty, George activated the tractoring beam, bringing the destroyer in tight.  “And we are holding position, Captain.  And
Horus
is holding position forty-eight meters out.  Extending docking tube.”

              Crgann was looking to a display just to the side of the vid pickup and a moment later, she nodded.  “And we have softseal.”

              “Are you going to be able to maintain station keeping?” Vincent asked.  “Or should we keep the tractoring beam active?”

              Crgann sighed.  “Well, for the pride of my ship and for the Republic, I should tell you that of course we can maintain station relative to your ship and how dare would you ask that?  But, for the benefit of my absolutely battered ship and exhausted crew… yes, Captain Eamonn.  For now, at least, it’s probably best that you keep your tractoring beam active until we can get some emergency repairs taken care of.”

              “We’ve set up temporary barracks in one of my cargo bays.  It isn’t much,” he admitted, “but we have a number of bunks set up with adequate plumbing and showers.  And our cook is quite good.”  At her confused look, he went on.  “You mentioned that you had problems with your life support.  I realize that sleeping on a freighter isn’t the most glamorous of accommodations for hardened Republic sailors…”

              She nodded.  “Thank you, Captain.  I happily accept.  I know that many of my crew would as well.”  She laughed.  “Once I get the wounded secured, Captain, I think it would be good if I came over to your ship.  We should talk.  And I think I’m interested in testing out the fare from your cook.  After two months of ration bars, I could sure go for something a little more hearty.”

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