First Principles: Samair in Argos: Book 3 (51 page)

              “Someone get over here!” Ekaterina bellowed.  “One of your crewmen is about to have a heart attack.  And I promise I didn’t threaten or touch him!”  There came the pounding of feet on the metallic deckplates as five people came into the cargo airlock area, makeshift weapons and accusatory looks on their faces.

              Tamara landed on the deck in the airlock and stepped through.  She saw the crewmen, shouting at her bodyguard and her bodyguard falling into a fighting crouch and looked around in puzzlement.  “What the hell happened?” she demanded of the lupusan, over the din. She pulled up her HUD and focused on her guard, stepping to the side so she could scan her from profile.

              “Nothing actually happened, ma’am,” Ekaterina said in a normal tone.  Tamara’s implants easily picked out the guard’s speech from the cacophony of voices in the airlock area.  “I stepped out, asked permission to come aboard and then this one,” she pointed with one clawed digit to the young man who one of the other crewmen was attempting to peel off the bulkhead, but he had a death grip on one of the metal trusses, “Freaked.  Then he backed himself up against the bulkhead and I called out for the cavalry.  Unfortunately, the cavalry doesn’t believe that I didn’t hurt him.”

              Tamara pulled out her communicator, flipped it open and entered a code.  “Frederick, yeah, it’s Tamara.  Get down to the airlock, please.  You’re about to have a riot and I don’t want any of your crew to be hurt.”

              “I hear it,” he replied.  “I’m on my way.”  Less than a second later, the captain stepped into the airlock area.  “Knock it off!” he bellowed and all of them went silent.  Hostile looks were still being sent in the direction of the lupusan guard, who seemed to be taking it all in stride, though she was down in a crouch, ready to fight.  Her hands were well away from her weapons, though she didn’t need them.  “Now, what is going on?”

              “She attacked Perry!” one of the cargo handlers yelled, pointing accusingly at Ekaterina.

              “Really, Maya?” Frederick asked, sounding tired.  “Because I think if that was the case, he’d be dead right now.  What do you think, Zhahal?” he turned to his engineer, one eyebrow raised.

              The lupusan engineer for the cargo vessel snarled, looking away from the guard over to the captain.  Then some of the vinegar seemed to drain out of her.  “No, you’re right, Captain.  Guys, back off.  If the guard here actually did anything to try and hurt Perry, he wouldn’t just be backed up against the bulkhead.”

              “Thank you, Zhahal.  Leave it with me, people.  Back to your business,” Frederick ordered.  When no one moved, he yelled, “Now!”  All but the lupusan jumped and then quickly left, but Zhahal went over to the young man who was up against the bulkhead. 

              “Come on, Perry,” she said, gently, taking him by the arm.  “It’s me.  Let’s go.  She didn’t hurt you, come on.”  After a moment, the panicked engineer’s mate relaxed enough to allow the lupusan to lead him away.

              Frederick scowled as they walked off.  “Well, kids these days, huh?  I don’t know what happened.  His direct boss is a lupusan, I don’t get why he freaked.”

              Ekaterina straightened up, and the aura of the compartment felt different as she relaxed.  The guard was no longer in battle mode and somehow, both humans in there could feel it.  The predator was no longer ready to attack and the little mice in the room felt somehow safer.  “Zhahal is an engineer,” the guard replied.  “She can be a hunter if she chooses, but my guess is she hasn’t chosen to in quite some time.”

              “Whereas my guards were specifically chosen because of their… menacing auras,” Tamara said in explanation.  Ekaterina grinned.

              “You’re the boss,” she said simply.

              “Well,” Tamara said, turning back to the captain.  “I’m sorry my arrival caused such a fuss.”

              “You love to make an entrance, Tamara,” he said with a smile.  He stepped over, arms outstretched and the two embraced briefly.  “But it’s good to see you again.  But I really have to ask that you not frighten my crew to death.  Please?”

              She shrugged.  “I am sorry, Frederick.  I said that already.”

              He nodded, stepping back.  “Yes, you did.  All right, enough chit chat.  I want to see this den of inequity you have over there,” he said, grinning and rubbing his hands mischievously. 

              Tamara laughed and led him through the docking tube.

~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~

              “So I’m sitting standing there, while the customs guy is screaming at Taja and me and suddenly one of his buddies comes over telling him that the crate of superseal foam that we’re bringing in has ruptured,” Frederick said, gesturing with his nearly-empty glass, grinning.  “So he stomps off and we follow, of course, because it’s still considered my cargo.  I’ve sold it, but the buyers hadn’t arrived yet to pick it up.”

              Tamara took another sip of her drink, chuckling.  “Oh, no.”

              He nodded.  “Yeah, so we get over there and three of the customs people are covered with the superseal foam and are stuck to the deck.  In fact, there’s a mass of the foam that’s covered three square meters and the three of them are stuck in it up to their necks.  They’re screaming, the customs guy is screaming at them, Taja’s screaming at all of them…”

              Tamara choked off her laughter, long enough to ask, “And who were you screaming at?”

              “I wasn’t screaming at anyone,” he said calmly.  “I was on the comms with the buyers telling them that customs was going to want to speak with them about a load of busted superseal foam.” 

              Tamara roared with laughter, throwing her head back and slapping her palm against the wooden table.  “That is just precious.  And perfect!”

              “Oh, the buyers were pissed off about the customs guy busting open the load, the customs guys took over two hours to get enough solvent to free their people from what had become a rock hard chunk of orange sealant, so they were pissed off.  But, the money was already in my account, so the only thing I cared about was getting them out of my cargo bay.”  He threw back the rest of his drink, wincing slightly.  “That is some very good stuff, Tamara.”

              She wiped at her streaming eyes, continuing to chuckle.  “Ha, yes it is, Frederick.  Which is why I bought it.  And I haven’t had an excuse to crack it open.  So I’m glad an old friend happened to show up and was agreeable to come over.”

              “Get drunk on someone else’s tab?” he asked, grinning.  He swept his arm to encompass the living quarters.  “Hanging out in an awesome place like this?  I’m glad I don’t have this thing on my ship.  I’d never get any work done.  All I’d want to do is lie on the couch and watch vids.”

              “Men,” she snorted.  Setting her glass back on the table, she grabbed the bottle and poured herself another two fingers of the fiery liquid.  “You find the least bit of comfort and all of a sudden your sense of responsibility goes out the airlock.”

              “Hey, hey, easy, Commander Samair,” he said, holding up his hands in surrender.  “And I did say I was glad, didn’t I?”

              “Yes, you did,” she said, pompously.  She patted the table.  “Which only proves that you, sir, cannot be trusted to handle any kind of serious prosperity.”  Tamara blinked a couple of times and they both laughed.  “I think I’m a little drunker than I expected.”  She drained her glass and looked over to the bottle.  “Hey, where did all the scotch go?”

              “Not sure,” Frederick replied, visibly swaying a bit, chuckling.  He grabbed the bottle off the table and filled up his own glass, and then threw it back, leaving nothing in the bottle.  “I think it disappeared.”

              They laughed, arguing lightly about the state of the level of alcohol in the bottle, and then the conversation turned back to cargo running.  All the while, they were watched over by the two female lupusan, who were seated in the cockpit area of the ship.  Ekaterina was dozing lightly in the copilot seat while Viktoriya was at the controls.  She was flying the modified cargo ship in a lazy arc around the system, not straying more than twenty or thirty light seconds from the yard complex.  Her primary’s little catch up session with her friend the freighter captain wasn’t expected to last more than a few hours, by the look of things, due to her linkup with the ship’s internal cameras through her new implants.  She had physically adapted and the time she’d needed for healing was done, and now she was still getting to understand the new technology, but so far, she loved all of the features and the ability to access the computers on the ship.  “Where were these implants two years ago when we were working in the Voluun District?”

              “They were aboard that Republic destroyer,” Ekaterina murmured, not opening her eyes.  “And I can’t wait to get a set of my own.”

              “You don’t really need the sensory upgrades,” Viktoriya admitted.  “I’ve never seen anyone with a better sniffer or ears than you.”

              “Thanks, Boss,” the other wolf said, adjusting slightly on the seat, which conformed to her movement.  “But even if the upgrades can’t do much better, the ability to access the computer systems and databases like you and Samair do would be a big help.”  She flicked her ears without opening her eyes.  “And the record function can also help.”

              “Yes, it does,” Viktoriya agreed.  “And now that our primary has started getting those and the doctor clearly can do the surgery to install them, I’m thinking FP, Inc is going to be marketing a new product.  Once the company kids start getting the upgrades.”

              “Damn it, you woke me up,” Ekaterina complained.  She elbowed her way up in to a more up upright position in the seat.  “All right, I’m interested.  Who do you think will be getting the implant upgrades?”

              “Well, they can’t be cheap,” Viktoriya said.  She pressed a few controls.  “Coming up to waypoint twenty-two.  Adjusting course.”

              “Do you really have to say that every time we come up to one of those things?” Ekaterina asked, running one black-furred shoulder. 

              Viktoriya grinned, never taking her eyes off the displays.  She leaned forward and pressed another control.  “No, I don’t, actually.  But that face you make when you get annoyed amuses me.”  The other female grunted, displaying that annoyance.  “But I think that certainly the senior personnel will be getting them, Captain Eamonn, for sure, Moreetz over at the Kutok mine, Chief Nymeria, Captain Leicasitaj on the
Mondragon
, and the list goes on.  I think she’ll probably do some sort of contract extension for anyone who gets them, in fact,” she said, hesitating, as a new file popped up.  “Ha.  It seems the good Chief of Operations was thinking in precisely that manner.”

              “Yeah?”

              “Yeah.  She’s going to hook anyone in the company who wants them up with implants, but will increase their service contract to ten years.  Gotta subsidize them somehow, I guess,” Viktoriya said with a shrug.

              Ekaterina nodded, flicking her ears.  “Makes sense.  I just hope for her sake that the powers involved figure out how to get that thing off her neck.  I’d hate for her to be giving everyone these wonderful new toys and she doesn’t get to participate.”

              “Yeah, well, she’s been working on the modifications, and from what she’s posted on the ship’s datanet, I think she’s close.”

              Ekaterina turned and gave her serzhant a look.  “You know how weird you sound when you say things like that, don’t you Viktoriya?”  She shook her head, giving a little yip.  “You’re starting to sound like Samair.”

              Viktoriya looked over at her fellow guard.  “We’ve been through a lot, Ekaterina.  But just remember this: when you get neuro implants, you’ll start to talk in the same manner.  You won’t even be able to recognize yourself.”

              “Don’t even joke about that,” Ekaterina said with a shudder.

              “You won’t,” Viktoriya replied, smiling.  “You’ll be speaking in tech-talk and talking about cost ratios, and information on the datanet.”

              “Stop!” Ekaterina begged, throwing up her hands.  “No more!”

              “And spreadsheets and balance sheets and diagnostic programs…”

              “All right,” Frederick said, sprawled on one of the large, plush couches.  “I think I should be getting to bed.  I’m… I’m a bit more drunk than I’ve been.”  He laughed weakly.  “I- I mean.  I’m more drunk than I expected.  How long until we get back to my ship?” he slurred.

              Tamara blinked rapidly.  She pulled up her HUD, which was perfectly clear, though seeing Frederick on the couch was still a bit… fuzzy.  She’d have to look into adjusting her implants later.  Clearly there was some feedback being sent to her eyes through her optical implants.  The appropriate macro popped up and she could see that according to Viktoriya’s flight path, and the timer she’d set up, they should be back at the
Redcap Madness
in twenty minutes.

              “Twenty minutes or so,” she said aloud.  “And then we’ll be back at your ship.”

              “Yeah.  Thanks.  I like your couch here, but I think it would be better if I threw up in my own refresher.”