Hold the Star: Samair in Argos: Book 2 (35 page)

              Eamonn grimaced, his eyes flicking to the door and holding his gaze there for a short moment before coming back to the males at the table before him.  “So, where are we on the engines.  As we were saying, we need to get the ship moving toward the inhabited planet, or in the very least toward where the shuttles are picking up rocks.”

              “We’re about as ready as we’re going to be,” Xar said, looking over to his boss. 

              Quesh nodded.  “I’ve got Samair standing by in Main Engineering to bring the engine up and I’m sure the bridge people are getting ready.”

              “They’ve been ready for hours,” the Captain told him.  “Isis has been nagging me for hours to get moving.”

              “Then let’s get moving, Captain,” Quesh said.  “Get us going and then we can do the rest of this meeting.”

              “One last thing first,” Eamonn said, raising one hand.  He gestured to Turan.  “How are we on the medical front?”

              “Better,” the Guura replied.  “We only had a few that were injured due to the explosive decompression.  I’ve had a few bumps, bruises and cuts from the engineering teams, but nothing serious.  Thankfully.”

              “Praise the stars for that,” Quesh seconded.  Ka’Xarian nodded.

              “I’m glad to hear that,” the Captain agreed.  “Let me know if there are any problems,” he said to Turan.

              “Of course, Captain.”  The Guura bowed his very long neck.

              “All right then,” Eamonn replied.  He pulled out his communicator from his pocket.  “Bridge, this is the Captain.  We’re moving out.  Get ready to ease us forward.  And I mean
easy
, Isis.  Start with maneuvering thrusters to brake our inertia and then very slowly start with the main engine.  Set course for the asteroid field, where our shuttles are going to harvest some of the minerals.”

              “Copy that, sir,” the woman said.  A second later there was a slight shiver in the hull and then it went away.  “We’re moving, Captain.  Fifty kph… one hundred… five hundred kph.”

              “That’s easing it up slowly?” Turan asked.

              The others looked over to him and he winced.  “I’ve just said something stupid haven’t I?”

              They all smiled, but the Captain shook his head.  “No, not really.  Five hundred kilometers per hour sounds like a lot and in a planet’s atmosphere or on the ground it would be.  In space, though, we’re barely crawling along.  It would take years to get to the area where the shuttles are going to pick up rocks, decades or longer to get to the inhabited planet.”

              “Okay, that makes sense,” the doctor replied.

              “We need to be
very
careful with this acceleration, Captain,” Quesh spoke up.  “When we dropped out of hyperspace and we had that explosive decompression…”

              Eamonn nodded with a wry smile.  “I sort of recall that, Chief.”

              “Yes, Captain,” the Parkani replied, grinning.  “But the explosion caused us to roll, which caused the frame of the ship to twist.  It wasn’t a big twist, but enough to cause fractures, cracks and other breaches all around the hull in the central section.  The thruster burn we used to try and stop the roll caused further stress and basically made it worse.  If we push to hard with engine one it’s going to cause the drive section of the ship to push forward and essentially crumple the already stressed trusses and hull plating of the damaged areas.  Using the engines at all is going to be a risk, but the slower we accelerate the less stress we’re going to put on the old girl.”

              There were nods around the table.  “It’ll take about three days, but we will reach the asteroid field,” Stella piped up.  “So long as the pilot doesn’t jam the throttles forward.”

              “We’ll be sure she doesn’t, Stella,” Eamonn told her, eyeing the holo.  Stella nodded.  “All right, then.  We have a few days until we get there.  Quesh, Xar, I want you both to set an engineering watch rotation, both in Main Engineering and Environmental, and then the rest of the Engineering division is going to get some rack time.  Unless there is some system that absolutely cannot wait, or some emergency that is going to cause some catastrophe, your entire division is going to get some sleep.”

              Quesh looked as though he was going to argue, but then slumped a bit and then nodded.  “Yes, Captain.”

              “Finally!” Turan exclaimed.  “I’ve been after you for days, but I know that you’ve been busy trying to save our lives.  But still, you big idiot, you need to sleep.”

              The Parkani gave a long suffering sigh.  “Yes, Doctor,” he said.

              The Guura shook his head.  “No,
I
am the one who can sigh like that, Chief.  You’ve been giving me grief this whole time!”

              Everyone chuckled.

Chapter 12

              The trip in system was as about as agonizingly slow as it was possible to be.  Isis was sitting at her controls, after having set the course, just leaning back in her seat, datapad in hand, studying the ship and how to control it.  The woman was determined to be the best pilot on the ship, even going so far as to ask Tamara for any help she could give.  The engineer/fighter pilot was more than happy to share her knowledge and experience, downloading a number of texts, vids and other such information to a datapad for her to study.  And study she did.  She was devouring it.  Isis had no desire to be a fighter pilot, she wanted to be able to fly the
Grania Estelle
better than anyone else.  The others could operate the helm, but she wanted to know how to
fly
.

              And she was learning.  George Miller was also updating his displays, going over everything he could find in the ship’s systems.  He too was working like crazy to increase his skill set at his chosen field, though no one would claim that they knew how to run the Operations station better than him.  He was looking through sensor diagnostics, data feeds, lines of control code, and based on the nods and smiles he was making, it was clear that he too was moving forward.

              They were a little more than a day’s journey from the asteroid belt when the shuttles arrived with their cargoes.  “I have a big ol’ rock here for us,” Jesma reported gleefully.  “And it’s loaded with a bunch of strategic minerals that we need for the power systems and others.”

              “That’s great work,” Eamonn replied, a smile on his face.  “We’ve got bay eight cleared out for the rocks both shuttles are bringing in, match course and speed with us and bring them over.”

              “Copy, that, Captain,” Jesma said.  “Both of the asteroids we roped are good sized, but they’re small enough that we could easily fit both into the bay.”

              “Very good.  Bring those in, then land your birds.”  He rubbed his chin with one hand, settling a bit more comfortably into his command chair.  “Get back in, refuel, then get to the mess hall for some chow.”

              She nodded.  “On our way, Captain.  Shuttle One out.”  And the connection was cut.

              Once the rocks came in and were secured, the engineering teams went to work with the cutting torches.  Within minutes, material was being loaded into the replicators which greedily gobbled it up, refilling their bunkers.  And just as quickly, Tamara had the machines back to work, building new parts.  The engineers went back to work, but slower this time, their pace far less frantic than before.  There was a fair amount of work that would need to be done to replace any twisted or cracked spars and trusses, as well as the hull plating and the outright breaches.  It was something that, most likely, couldn’t be resolved without a full fledged repair slip.  But, if this was a system that had an orbital station, as they knew it did, and a massive warship, as they knew it did, then more than likely it would have the repair slip they would need.

              After filling up bay seven with another pair of rocks, they started the long trip further in system, to bring them to the inhabited planet.  At best speed, it would be a sixteen-day journey, but it would be a productive one as repairs progressed, albeit slowly, giving all the crew plenty of time for rest, and to keep to a regular schedule.  There was perhaps far less downtime than the cargo division was used to, now that all but six of them had been pulled to work on engineering and deck watches, but most of them took it in stride.

              Those who didn’t, Taja dealt with personally.  While it was technically the responsibility of the new department heads to deal with discipline issues, but the fiery cargo specialist still saw all of them as her people.  There were some very long and loud “discussions” and a couple of hard slaps, and the whiners were suddenly much more motivated to do the jobs that had now been assigned to them.  Eamonn, Quesh, and Stella were highly amused by this performance, the now more motivated crewmembers were far less amused.  There was a bit of grumbling, which got a little louder once Taja had left the compartment.  The new department heads were fine with that so long as the work got done to their satisfaction.  For the most part, the cargo people were being put on gofer duties, and assigned to watch over stations and consoles while the more experienced people were given more onerous duties and during the trip it seemed to be a working solution.

              Twenty hours from the planet, they started to get a clearer picture of the system, and the other real estate here.  The system consisted of a G-2 type star, young, but plenty warm.  There were five celestial bodies, four of them gas giants orbiting far from the warmth of the sun.  Between the second and third gas giants was the system’s very rich, very dense asteroid field.  As they moved past that, they approached the two inner planets.  The one closest to the star was extremely hot, with a sulfurous atmosphere and a barely solid rock surface. 

              The one they were heading to was in the habitable zone though a bit closer than would, strictly speaking be comfortable for human life.  It was a temperate planet, with very little axial tilt, which meant there was very little change in season throughout the year.  It was lush and tropical, with abundant fish and animal life.  The population was a little more than four million souls, primarily human, though there was a fair number of lupusan based here and a dash of other races.  The information about the planet itself came from what they had learned from Administrator Galina and the other crew of the hospital ship
Kara
.

              In orbit of the planet was a space station, a large one, bigger than what they’d seen at Ulla-tran.  It was cylindrical at its base, holding sensors, shield generators, engineering and power reactors, at the top of the cylinder was a wide, flat disk, twenty levels tall.  Branching out from the central disk were eight smaller disks, each only ten levels tall.  It looked almost like a tree, with each of the disk sections as its leaves and the cylinder pointed down at the planet.

              The station was in decent repair, as
Grania Estelle
’s passive sensors were telling them, better than the fueling station they’d seen at Ulla-tran, but as they came in closer, the truth was revealed.  There was a large amount of corrosion on the cylindrical section of the station; one of the disks was completely dark and looked as though it had sustained a severe impact, judging by the three large breaches in the hull. 

              “And there she is,” George reported, bringing up the station on his display. 

              The others looked up from their consoles to stare at what he’d brought up.  Docked on the outer section of the station, one of the farthest of the disks from the largest central section, was a ship.  A very large ship.  It wasn’t as large as
Grania Estelle
, which was over a kilometer long, but it was still a big vessel.  It was sleek and bristled with weapons, with a keel length at just over six hundred meters and probably one hundred fifty meters wide.  It was the battlecruiser, the one that they’d come to this system to use as protection.  They all sat there and just gazed at the station and its protector moored to a docking slip.

              “It’s really here,” Serinda whispered, but her voice carried throughout the small command center. 

              “It’s really there,” George replied.  “We’re still a ways out yet, but it doesn’t look like they’re sending anyone out to harass us.”

              “Not yet, anyway,” the Captain said.  “Any signs of ship activity near the planet?  Or around the station?”

              George slapped a few keys on his console, then nodded a moment later.  “Yes, Captain.  I’m seeing two shuttles; one coming up from the planet, heading for the orbital station and there’s a smaller one, looks like a shuttlepod heading down into the planet’s atmosphere.”

              Isis snorted.  “All that orbital real estate just to show
two
shuttles?  No other ships?”

              “What about the
Kara
?” Eamonn asked.  “They can’t have gotten here too much before we did.”

              “No, Captain,” Stella replied from her image at the bridge holo projector.  She flicked a hand in the direction of the display.  “Using best estimates and assuming the
Kara
maintained a constant speed the whole way from Ulla-tran and didn’t deviate her course, she should have arrived a week before we did.”

              “Any sign of her?” Eamonn asked, turning to check his own display, which showed the feeds from the sensors.

              “Not at this point, Captain,” George replied.  “She’s not flying free at any rate.”

              “Docked at the station maybe?” Serinda asked.

              “I don’t think so,” Stella said, shaking her head.  “We can see the battlecruiser easily enough.  There are a dozen or so other ships that are docked along the outer disks, but
Kara
isn’t one of them.”

              “She’s right, Captain,” George said.  “I’m not picking her up.  I suppose it’s possible she’s moored underneath the disks, on the part facing the planet where we can’t see.  We won’t be able to tell unless we get there and either fly underneath ourselves or send a shuttle or something under.”

              The Captain shrugged.  “Would’ve been nice to come in knowing she was here.  But it can’t be helped.  We’re going nowhere for a while, so we have to get in and pull up to the station anyway.”

              “And they still haven’t communicated at all with us, Captain,” Serinda put in.  “Even in systems where they don’t have any serious off-world equipment, they usually have a radio.  If someone looks out the window of the station, they should be able to see our running lights by now.”

              Stella tipped her head back and forth.  “I’m not sure about that.  We’re still pretty far out from the station.  It’ll be when we’re almost ready to dock before we’d be in visual range.”

              “But who runs a system like this?” George asked, saying aloud what everyone was thinking.  “A ship comes in and we get no response?  I mean they have a warship and they don’t challenge us, they don’t scan us, nothing?  It doesn’t make sense.”

              Stella frowned.  “George, can you check these readings?”

              He looked down at his displays.  A number of items had suddenly highlighted, drawing his attention to the numbers.  “Huh,” he said, looking them over. 

              Eamonn stood and walked to look over George’s shoulder to his displays.  “What is it?”

              “You see it, don’t you?” Stella asked, smiling.

              “If I have to ask ‘what’ one more time…” the Captain growled.

              “It’s the battlecruiser, Captain,” George explained.  “We can see it, but it’s showing
very
low power readings.  I mean
really
low.”

              Eamonn blinked.  “That is strange.”

              “Yeah.  For a warship that’s supposed to be protecting the station and the planet, it’s essentially asleep, docked at the station.  And why would it be docked?”

              The Captain shrugged.  “Maybe they’ve put in to resupply.”

              George frowned.  “I guess.  I mean that would be easier than sending out lots of shuttles to bring in food, fuel and other supplies.  But that would tie the ship down to the dock when they might need to be out and moving free.  But the fact that the ship has such a low power signature means that it might be hours until the ship might be battle ready.”

              “Is the battlecruiser’s power level low, or is the station running hot and it’s just masking it?” Eamonn asked.

              “I think the battlecruiser might be running off the station power,” Stella noted.  “Which makes even less sense.”

              “Unless the ship is non-functional,” George pointed out.  “It could be docked there because the ship is a wreck.”

              “Kind of like us,” Serinda muttered.

              “Hey!” Stella cried, indignant.  Serinda raised an eyebrow, and the AI grimaced, then gave a small smile. 

              “Well that’s just great,” the Captain grumbled.  “Came all this way looking for protection and we find the only warship in the Cluster that doesn’t work.”

              Gloomy looks filled the bridge crew.  But then Stella’s face brightened.  “Maybe that’s a good thing,” she pointed out.  “I mean, if they were going to be unfriendly toward us, maybe having their warship non-function might be better for us.”

              Eamonn grimaced, stepping over and sitting back down in his command chair.  “Not really a ringing endorsement, I must say.  I was hoping that they’d be in better shape.”  Then he made a decision.  “All right, since our own power situation seems to be much better now, let’s get the locals on the horn.  Serinda, send a message to the orbital.  Tell them who we are and that we’re looking for opportunities for trade and profit.”

              “Copy that, Captain,” she said, picking up her earpiece and tapping keys on her console.  “Message sent,” she reported after a moment.