First Principles: Samair in Argos: Book 3 (50 page)

              “You too, Frederick.  Good run?”

              He beamed.  “Great!  I made eight percent over projections on this last run at Ulla-tran.  I have to admit, I was a little concerned, making a run there, especially after what happened last time.  But I just stayed away from the fueling station and we made some serious bank.”  He winked at her.  “I even have credits to spend on refueling this time.  And I have to thank you for that load of fuel, Tamara.  I’ll do my best to make sure my balances never go that low again.”

              “I wasn’t worried about that,” she said with a chuckle.  “I hope I didn’t embarrass you with that load of fuel.  I would have spoken with you before you left for your last run, but that Republic ship showed up and…”

              He shook his head.  “Don’t worry about it.  It’s my own fault for running a bit too close to the red line.  I won’t be doing that again.”

              “So why Ulla-tran?  And how are things looking out that way?”

              “Well,” he said, running a hand through his hair, “I figured I needed a place to start looking into finding some new markets.  They don’t need fuel, but they could use high end electronics and machine parts.  And I was happy to provide.  And they love it.  I sold that cargo in less than an hour.  And that was before I even docked at the orbital.  They want more.”

              Tamara smiled.  “Sounds like I should start sending cargo ships that way.”

              “I’d say so,” Frederick replied, the smile never leaving his face.  “I’m going to stop here for four days, fuel up, restock the galley, load up the first set of cargo I can get and then I’m going back.  With profit margins like that, I think I’m going to be making a few more runs there.”

              “When FP’s first medium cargo hauler gets out of yard hands, I think she’s going to be making her way there as well.  I was seriously considering sending an escort, but it seems a waste to use it for only one freighter.”

              “I’m not sure that would be a good idea,” Frederick replied, his grin fading.

              Tamara frowned.  “Why?  Why wouldn’t that be a good idea?”

              Frederick grimaced.  “This place isn’t the only system that’s been having a serious buildup in the last few months.  They’ve gotten themselves a respectable collection of warships there.”

              She sighed, her suspicions piqued.  “And you weren’t concerned about flying in there, given what happened the last time?”

              He shrugged.  “Like I said, we stayed clear of the fueling station, which is where we got into trouble last time.  Goris Hana’s little fleet has pretty much stabilized, but he has a large collection of ships, over a dozen now.  He’s the undisputed ruler of the refueling station.”

              “Not that that was really a surprise,” Tamara replied, rubbing the back of her neck.  “He was when we were there all those months ago.”

              “True enough,” he admitted.  He paused for a long moment.  “Anyway, they’ve got a few frigates that patrol the system, as well as a few corvettes.  They don’t have anything as big as the battlecruiser like in this system, which, let me tell you is both comforting and terrifying to behold.  That ship was just at the edge of our sensor range on its patrol route, it never signaled us, it didn’t change routes, but I have to tell you, seeing a full on battlecruiser here was…  It was truly awe-inspiring.”  The man actually looked spooked.

              “I only wish she was active and ready back when we needed her over a year ago when we were all there in Ulla-tran when Verrikoth’s forces made their presence known.”

              “From your mouth to the Divine’s ears,” he agreed.  “But, most of us got out of there.  I wish it could have been all of us.”

              “Yeah.”  There was a pause.  “So anyway, back to what you were saying.  Just keep to the orbital and you were okay?”

              He shrugged.  “Well, I was only there once.  And as I said, I intend to make another run out there; I know of a few companies here that have the kinds of goods and equipment that they’re going to want over there.  You know, things like computer chips, high-end electronics, other things for space-based industry.  In addition to the big ship they’re building, I think they’re also working on fixing up the orbital.”

              She pursed her lips and nodded.  “I suppose that’s a good thing.  For safety and economics sake it can only be a good thing.  I remember the orbital was pretty decrepit.  I mean, it only had shields on one side, the side facing out from the planet.  I guess that did provide some protection from solar radiation.”

              “Yeah, they’ve started a rebuilding project on it.  They’re not all that far along, at least with external repairs.  I think that they’ve working on one of the reactors, and they started a refurbishment of one of the habitat levels.  It’s unfinished, but some of the areas are starting to look pretty nice.”

              Tamara smirked, trying to picture new metal, fresh coats of paint, refurbished life support which contrasted with the corroded bulkheads and deckplating, leaking pipes and the slight pong to the air from her memory.  “It wouldn’t take a lot to actually do a good job.  Hell, a good purge and cleanout of the life support system and waste recycling system would make a huge difference.”

              Frederick chuckled.  “Yeah, I’ll agree with that.  Anyway, I’ll be stopping off at the yard to refuel in a few hours, and that will take for several hours.  Any chance we can get together and catch up?”

              “Well, you’ll be pulling in at the tank farm, Frederick.  It isn’t as though you’re pulling up to the station itself.  But I might be able to come over.  You can come onto my ship while you wait to fuel up.”

              “I have been interested to see one of those
Testudo
cargo ships that you’ve got,” he admitted.  He gestured off to the side, out of camera pickup.  “I’ve seen them making runs from the orbital, from the mine and the yard.  They make a good number of trips.”

              “Yes, they do,” she said.  “I designed them myself, actually they’re just a modified cargo shuttles, made bigger and with a few more perks.  Mine, though has slightly less cargo space but a larger number of amenities.  It’s pretty plush.”

              “Then why are you there?” he asked.  “Why spend time on the
Samarkand
when you could be getting the same work done on your ship?”

              “Oh, I do,” she said.  “I didn’t have the ship built just to be my pleasure den.  It’s got some serious computer power, a replicator, and…” she trailed off.  “A few other tricks, let’s say.”  Tamara sighed.  The
Moxie-2
had a full backup database of everything for FP, as well as milspec everything: shields, engines, even hull armor.  The ship was also a full five meters wider than the standard
Testudo
and seven meters longer.  It was a huge space for really only one person, very posh.  The interior living space of the ship had been set up with plush chairs, a couch, a thick carpet, and although the mattress on the bunk had been replaced with a very expensive one, it was still only a double.  She had a hardwood desk put in on the side of the living space, and armorglass along the top meter and both sides of the structure of the ship.  She also had an amazing sound system put in, loaded up with the musical databases from this system and all those she’d been able to pull from the Republic database as well.  The warship crew had been happy to barter their musical libraries for some credits to spend and Tamara was happy to spend a few credits to get them.  “It’s very comfortable and conducive for getting work done, but I need to get my hands dirty building things and I can’t really do that from there.  I don’t really get to do that as much as I’d like anymore, since I’m now a Chief of Operations and not an Engineering Third Officer.”

              “Would you go back?” he asked, a bit of joviality fading from his expression.

              Tamara sighed, scrubbing her face with her hands.  “No, probably not.  In fact definitely not.  I like it here, despite the very large pains in the ass the admin council and Colonel Gants tend to be.  I like all the building and the good work I’m doing, hell, even being able to help out a friend every so often.”  Frederick smiled at that comment.  “Can’t say the money is bad, either.”

              He laughed.  “I envy that part,” Frederick admitted, giving her a lazy salute, “But I couldn’t stand being stuck in the one system all the time.  Even if I’m just making jumps to one system away and then back, seems a whole lot better to me than being stuck behind a desk.”

              Tamara laughed out loud.  “You’re honestly going to tell me that your office aboard that ship doesn’t have a desk?  You’re going to say that me, the woman who got that ship up and running?  The woman who went through
every
compartment on that ship?”

              Frederick raised his hands in surrender.  “All right, all right, you got me.  But my desk goes through hyperspace.  Can yours?”

              She laughed.  “Give me a call once you’re in for refueling.  I have a bottle of scotch that’s been begging to be opened.”

              He raised his eyebrows.  “Bringing scotch to the party
and
a swinging party pad?”

              “Hey, I never said anything about bringing my ship.”

              “You are not dangling that in front of me, talking about how swanky your ride is and then snatching it away,” Frederick argued.  “I don’t think so, Tamara.”

              She sighed, as though this was some great concession.  “All right.  But the party is going to be accompanied by chaperones, I hope you understand that.”

He blinked.  “What, Eamonn doesn’t let you go out after curfew?”

“No, he doesn’t really let me go anywhere without an escort,” she explained.  “I guess he’s worried about my virtue.”

Vosteros laughed heartily.  “Your virtue?  He actually said that?”

She shook her head.  “No.  He’s concerned, as am I, that someone mighty try something naughty.  Something that might hamstring the company.  Which is why he and Chief Nymeria arranged for me to get some guards.”

Frederick pursed his lips, pausing for a moment to think.  “So much for any amorous overtures on my part.  Nothing kills the mood like having an audience.”

Tamara found herself blushing.  Then she frowned as a thought hit her.  “What about Taja?  I assumed…”

He looked at her, his eyes somehow softer.  Tamara grimaced, hating the distance that caused the lag in communications.  Awkward conversations were made all the worse when you had to wait ten seconds between exchanges.  She’d had worse, of course, with minutes or sometimes hours between the different sides of conversations, but it seemed somehow worse with this one.  “First of all, I was joking.  I was under the impression that this was a get together and catch-up session between friends, not a date.  And second, there’s nothing going on between Taja and I.”  He let out a breath and lowered his voice a bit.  “Not that she isn’t interested, but I don’t screw with crew.  And she’s a superior cargo specialist, so I don’t want to let her go.”

She nodded in understanding, but perhaps the nods were just a touch too quick.  “Of course, I get it.”  Tamara laughed uncomfortably.  “And I can understand how awkward that could be.”

Frederick shrugged.  “It isn’t about being awkward.  Having a relationship with the captain tends to skew the power balance a bit.  It’s just a habit of mine.  I’ve seen other captain’s get with crewmembers and then if things don’t work out, it’s a hell ride to the next port.  I don’t restrict my crew with that rule, that’s up to them so long as it doesn’t detract from their duties.”

“Right.”  Her mind was racing.  She could still feel the flush in her cheeks. 
What is wrong with me?  He’s a friend; we’ve been through hell together.  One comment and I’m all flustered like it’s my first crush. 

“Well,” he said, enthusiastically.  “I look forward to seeing that ship of yours, Tamara.  But, duty calls.  I’ve got some things to take care of over here, but we’ll be docking at the tank farm in a few hours.”

“Great,” she said, also with a bit more verve than was actually called for.  “I’ll look forward to seeing you.”  Tamara cut the connection and leaned back in her chair, putting her face in her hands and groaning loudly.  “Yeah, Tamara.  That was great.  Just… great…”

              It seemed better, less awkward with the wolves on board the ship.  They were fierce predators, but Tamara managed to find solace, comfort from them somehow.  They were her guards, she was their primary, but somehow, strangely, it seemed as though they’d accepted her into their group.  She wasn’t arrogant enough to think that she was their alpha; Viktoriya Arsenyev Eristov was certainly that.  They had their ways of doing things and there were certain decisions that they would not budge from, but those related to her security.  Tamara was free to go about her business… until she tried to do something that contradicted the wolves’ security mandates.  But still, Tamara had this sense of belonging. 

              And it helped her shed that cloud of embarrassment and awkward feelings she’d had since the call with Frederick.  Sure, he was a nice guy and a friend, but up until he’d made that off-hand comment, she’d never had any inkling that he might be interested in her.  And, Tamara was forced to admit, the strange surge of emotions she’d had at that comment.  It wasn’t that she was attracted to him in any romantic fashion, she wasn’t, but up until now no one had even gotten the slightest reaction like this out of her.  Of course, given her position as Chief of Operations of the biggest corporation in the star system, Tamara was often depicted as cold, calculating and unapproachable.  Some of the more salacious tabloid reporters liked to try and catch glimpses of her, speculate on who she might be dating.  There wasn’t anyone, so they tried to insinuate.  It never went anywhere, but the COO, a woman, of the biggest company in town?  She would never
not
be news.

              Viktoriya was piloting the ship, bringing it in close to where
Redcap Madness
was connected with one of the enormous He3 tanks.  The ship had extended hoses to the tank, and a quick status update from the tank indicated that fuel was definitely being transferred to the freighter.  It would take hours to refill the freighter’s fuel bunkers, which worked out fine by Tamara’s reckoning; it would give her and Frederick time to catch up.

              After going through the handshake protocols and docking procedures,
Moxie-2
pulled up alongside
Redcap Madness
and docked, mating their airlocks together with an extendable tube.  Ekaterina swam through the tube first, landing lightly on the freighter’s deckplates just inside the airlock.  The airlock hatch opened and she stepped through.  “Permission to come aboard?” she growled, her ears and nose going into search mode.  The crewman inside leapt backward, frightened by the hunter that just stepped through the hatch.  “Relax, kid,” she said, smiling a toothy grin.  “I’m not going to eat you.”

              The crewman, a young human male, was pushed as far against the bulkhead as he could be, utter panic on his face.  He was blubbering to himself, repeating some gibberish over and over, but otherwise seemed unable to speak.