Hold the Star: Samair in Argos: Book 2 (69 page)

              “Excellent,” Vincent said.  “Excellent.  Well, be back up here for the meeting and we’ll get everything ready to roll.”

              “So, this is going to be our last officer meeting before we depart,” Vincent said to his gathered officers in the wardroom.  Turan sat to his left, next to Quesh, with George Miller at the far end of the side of the table.  On the right sat Ka’Xarian and Noken, and at the far end was a new face, that of the new cargo specialist.

              “I’m sure a few of you have already met, but for those who haven’t, this is Ardeth Marven, our new cargo specialist.”  All eyes turned to him.  Ardeth Marven was a big man, tall, with skin nearly as dark as the Captain’s, but whereas Eamonn had a fair amount of muscle on his frame, Ardeth was rail thin, looking gaunt and underfed.  A few weeks aboard the
Grania Estelle
, getting some of Noken’s excellent fare should remedy that.  He had a rather cold and calculating look in his eye, but his smile was ready enough.

              “Good to meet you all,” he said in his very gravelly voice. 

              “And somehow, against all odds, this good man has managed to find more than a few items for us to bring to Heb for sale,” Vincent said approvingly.

              Ardeth shrugged.  “Actually, it was all of you that helped to get some of those sales.  A few of the vendors on the surface, after having bought materials from you, wanted to turn around and sell them back to us to bring to another system.”  He’d managed to pick up four aircars from one of the vendors that was a friend to Suriaya at a good price.

              “We’re going to be turning over the starfighters that are taking up space in the cargo bay to Tamara’s operation.  She requested them and I approve that she’ll need a little protection that they might be able to bring.  So, Mister Marven, your job, once this meeting is completed, is to contact the
Samarkand
and work with them to offload those fighters.”

              The new cargo specialist nodded.  “I’ll get right on it.”  He didn’t sound the least bit concerned or upset about this particular assignment.

              “Other than that, I’m told we’re good to go,” Vincent said, looking around the room.  “Anything that we’re forgetting?”  There was silence from the gathered officers.  “Good.  Then I’m adjourning this meeting.  Let’s get back into space.  I think I’d like to see Heb.”  There were noises of assent from the others.

Chapter 23

              “I don’t know what to say,” Stella said, appearing on the display in Tamara’s stateroom aboard the
Samarkand
.  “You’ve always been on the ship, or at least nearby since I was brought online.  I’m not sure how I’m going to cope without you.”  The AI actually looked as though she might cry.

              Tamara gave a small smile.  “It’s all right, Stella.  This day had to come eventually, you know.”

              “I know!” she wailed, looking stricken.  “But I’ve been online less than a year!  I figured you’d be with
Grania Estelle
for a lot longer than that.”

              “It’s not like you’re going to be all alone on a derelict hulk, Stella,” Tamara pointed out.  “The Captain hired on new crew to bring the engineering teams up to snuff.  There’s a hundred and twenty-five other people on that ship.  Plenty of people to socialize with.”

              Stella sighed.  “It’s not the same, Tamara, you know it.”

              “Yeah, I do,” she conceded.  “It will be hard doing all this without you.  But the Captain is leaving the system, as he should, and you’re off to grand new places while I’m staying here.”

              “You
will
be here when we get back, won’t you?” Stella asked, her eyes pleading.

              Tamara chuckled.  “That’s the plan.  This ship certainly isn’t hyperspace capable, yet.  And I’ve got too much other work to be doing to worry about that for the moment.  Perhaps in the future that will be different, but for now, we’re stuck here.”

              “All right.  You just be careful, Tamara.  I won’t be there to watch your back this time.”

              “You too, Stella.  No more death rides, charging into the mouth of battle.”

              Stella waved her hands as though to ward off evil.  “No!  No no no no no.  Never again with that.”  And they both laughed.

              Things started moving at breakneck speed from that point.  As
Grania Estelle
lumbered off toward the hyper limit on a vector toward Heb, the engineering teams on the
Samarkand
started their EVA training.  Tamara set Eretria to the task and it turned out that the woman was a hard and worthy taskmaster.  She didn’t let anyone slide, though for the moment there was only a team of ten to work with.  The main work bays (formerly cargo bays) of the
Samarkand
seemed huge and cavernous and empty because of the small amount of workers involved.  Corajen flew the shuttle back to the orbital so that the lupusan could scout and hopefully recruit the people she wanted to fill out her security teams.  From there, she went down to the planet’s surface, scouting the people she had her eye on.  She was gone for two weeks, during which time, Tamara began work on the smelter, using Eretria’s design, with a few tweaks.  She had the team help when they weren’t doing EVA exercises and things were moving along ahead of schedule, which was to Tamara’s satisfaction.

              Corajen returned after her two week sojourn, bringing with her twelve individuals, a mix of nine humans, two domaks and another lupusan.  She had taken them on a thirteen day trek through the hostile mountain passes on the southern continent, a survival march, with limited provisions, supplies and equipment.  It had apparently been something of a bonding experience, because when they returned to the
Samarkand
they were talking and joking like a team that had been through the wars and fought their way clear.  No one would speak to the technicians or the crew of the ship about their ordeal, and Corajen discouraged them from asking.  Corajen vouched for them, and she provided full and detailed files on all of them, showing her skill that had earned her the position as Chief of Security of first the
Grania Estelle
and now this operation.

              Four days after the arrival of Corajen and her security force, the smelter began to take shape.  The entire team was working long hours to get it up and running, but almost as though they had done the job a hundred times before, the smelter came together quickly and efficiently, the team moving like a well-oiled machine.  As they were working, the two new tug pilots, twin sisters Faera and Meliea Solei were busy bringing in the first real asteroid to be torn apart.  The rock itself was about the size of the
Samarkand
, but far more dense, since there was no hollowed out inside like there would be on the ship.  The smelter could handle tens of tons of materials at a time, removing the unwanted materials, leaving the ores behind.  They would of course need a much larger device in time to handle bigger construction projects, but with the small amount of techs they had, this “small” smelter would do.

              The team went out in EVA suits with the shuttle nearby to chase anyone down who fell free.  Laser cutters were used to slice up the rock, though they all could see they were like ants trying to pull apart an elephant.  It wasn’t the most efficient of means to get the ore they would want.  Eretria suggested using explosives and Tamara agreed that it would be far more efficient, but for now she wasn’t comfortable in using them with the level of experience this team had.  For the moment, they would have to do things manually.

              Then Tamara had an inspiration.  Firing up her
Perdition
fighter, she flew out from the
Samarkand
’s boat bay, bringing her laser cannons online.  The shuttle collected up all of the engineering team, moving off to a safe distance nowhere near Tamara’s line of fire.  Lining up her shot, she cut loose with ten precise shots, blasting apart a cloud of debris from the asteroid and cutting a chunk from the small planetoid’s surface.

              “
Samarkand
, this is Em-One,” she called to the ship.  “If you could activate your tractoring beams and bring the debris into the opening for the smelter, I would appreciate it.”  The smelter had been attached to the edge of the cargo bay, with an intake lock set up on the outside of the hull, which would allow for easier access.  In a matter of moments, the cloud of debris was swept together and effectively sucked into the intake port for the smelter, which activated as the raw materials were dumped into its bunkers.

              She smiled, nodding in satisfaction.  “That worked very well.  We’ll let the smelter start working on this round of debris and then we’ll hit it again.  Though we’re going to have to come up with a more elegant solution than using my fighter for this.”

              “I’m sure we can come up with something, ma’am,” Eretria agreed.  “Maybe we could rig laser cannons to either the shuttle or the tugs or something.”

              Tamara twisted her lips.  “Might work.  Probably the shuttle would be the best idea.  There really isn’t room on the tug for that sort of thing.”  Then she brightened.  “Actually, we could use the cannon on the ship.  It’ll be safer all round.”

              “Cannon’s offline, ma’am,” Eretria said, her voice a bit meek.

              Tamara sighed heavily.  “Right.  Okay, so that’s the next order of business.  It’ll make this job a bit easier.”  She adjusted her position on the pilot’s couch.  She checked her sensor displays, which showed that the
Samarkand
’s tractoring beams had swept up about sixty percent of the material debris and was working to get the remainder.  She was impressed at whoever was operating that tractoring beam projector.  They clearly had skill; they weren’t scattering the chunks, dust and particulates all over.  She’d have to have a chat with whoever that was.  She waited patiently for another four minutes, then signaled.  “All right, I’m going to fire again. 
Samarkand
, whoever that crackerjack is who’s running the projector, give them an extra tot of rum for me, will you?”

              There was laughter over the comms and Tamara joined in.  She squeezed her triggers and fired another ten shots.

              It was several days later when Tamara realized that she had missed it. 
Grania Estelle
had passed the hyper limit and jumped away.  They had been too far away to see on sensors and the ship hadn’t sent out any messages.  She supposed it really wouldn’t have mattered.  She was being silly.  It wasn’t as though she hadn’t remained behind before while a ship containing her friends flew off into the unknown.

              But that ship, that crew, those were the first people she had met out here in this new time.  She had worked with them, fought beside them.  Stella was aboard that ship.  And they were leaving, had already left her behind.  It wasn’t as though she was alone, Corajen was here and she had responsibilities again and she was building things again.  She was busy and she was happy.  But it still hurt.

              She allowed herself a long moment of melancholy.  The freighter was gone and they would have to go through this trip to Heb and back without her.  She laughed at herself.  “They’ve been managing for years, decades without you,” she told herself aloud.  “You’re being an idiot.  Yes, they might have been in serious trouble without you, but you’ve fixed the ship for them and taught them well.  They can handle a trip to a single star system one jump away and then come back here.”  Tamara shook herself, stood up from the edge of her bunk where she had been sitting, feeling sorry for herself, and exited her stateroom, headed for the mess hall.  Maybe coffee and a sandwich would help her take her mind off things.

              The mess hall on the
Samarkand
wasn’t as grand or large as that of the
Grania Estelle
.  It could comfortably seat twenty at several tables with benches.  The coffee shrine wasn’t as huge as the one on the bulk freighter either, but two massive stainless steel urns stood on the counter by the kitchen.  The messmates grumbled good-naturedly about how their primary job was keeping the urns full, what with the way spacers, and particularly this crew, powered through their coffee.

              As she entered, Tamara saw Konstantin sitting at one of the tables by himself, eating something she couldn’t see.  She helped herself to a sandwich and a piece of fruit from one of the ready coolers, poured herself a cup of the dark ambrosia, and carried her tray over to where he was sitting.

              “Join you?” she asked.  He looked up as Tamara approached.

              He grunted, waving to the chair across the table.  She set the tray down and sat on the bench opposite him.  He was digging into a plate of what looked like lamb shanks, and was setting to the task with a will.  She took a bite of her sandwich.  After another moment, he finished the bone he’d been working on and set it down on his tray.  “You look depressed.”

              Tamara nodded.  “A little.  My old ship departed the system and I didn’t even notice until just a little while ago.”

              Konstantin nodded sagely.  “I understand.  Us Navy types have that feeling sometimes.  New deployments, new ships, new crews.  You get transferred from a comfortable posting when new responsibilities come up.”  He shrugged.  “You have to deal.  What am I talking about?  You’re a Commander in the Navy.  You’ve been through this before.”

              “I know.  It’s never easy.”  She took another bite of sandwich.  “This was the first ship and the first crew that I met after I woke up in this time.  It’s not that I thought I’d be on board forever.”

              “Sentiment,” Konstantin said with a smile. 

              She grinned.  “Yeah, I suppose.  It’s always hard to leave the nest.”

              “I suppose it is.  But you have friends and colleagues here,” he pointed out.  “You aren’t cast adrift, Tamara.”  Then he shrugged and picked up the last of the uneaten lamb and tucked in.

              Tamara chuckled.  “Glad to see where my emotional pain ranks on your list of priorities.”

              He nodded, grunting as he devoured the meat on the bone.  After a few moments, he answered.  “You come here, sit with me when I’m eating and expect loads of sympathy for this?”  His voice was gruff, but his eyes were laughing.

              She laughed and saluted him with her sandwich.  “Thanks, Konstantin.”

              He bowed his head and smiled at her.  “Anytime, Commander Samair.  Now,” he said, rising to his feet.  “I have to get to sickbay for my shift.  Not all of us can lounge around like officers.  We enlisted have to work for a living.”

              “Go on, get out of here so I can enjoy my august sandwich from my ivory tower.”

              “Yes, Commander!” he said very loudly, delivering a crisp Navy salute, lowered his arm and then bussed his tray and left the mess hall.  Others looked over and chuckled or just stared at the spectacle before going back to their own meals and conversations.  Tamara shook her head, smiling and then finished her lunch.

              “You wanted to see me?” Tamara asked, stepping on to the ship’s bridge.  Galina was seated in the command seat, the other stations on the bridge were filled.

              The lupusan looked over at her.  “Yes.  We just received a transmission from someone on the surface of the planet.  They’re interested in getting several thousand tons of metals for a project.”