First Principles: Samair in Argos: Book 3 (84 page)

              “Of course.  I’m sure your crew has lots to do,” Chakrabarti said, his voice calm.  “Arathos, if you would?”  He waited until the lupusan climbed the stairs out of the sensor pit and led him off the Flag Bridge.

              Once they were out and the doors slid shut, Gants sat himself back down in his command seat.  The rest of the bridge crew was doing everything they could to look busy, trying to avoid his gave.  Paxton, however, walked over to the colonel’s command seat and leaned in close.  “That was amazing boss.  But you know they’re going to make you pay for that.”

              “I’m sure they are,” he said, fury plastered on his face, breathing heavily as he tried to calm himself down.  “But until this mission is completed, they are guests here.  They have their own jurisdictions, which cover only the particulars of their negotiations with the officials in Ulla-tran.  They have no authority over me directly, unless I try to either circumvent their authority or outright cancel the mission.  I have no intention of doing either, so for now, this is my show.”  He sighed.  “Afterwards, if they still hang onto a grudge over my rude behavior, I’ll step up and face the disciplinary hearing.”

              “You’re not worried about that, sir?” Paxton asked, flabbergasted.

              “Worried?” he asked, considering.  “Not really.  Do I want to face one?  Of course not.  Commanding this ship is a dream come true, Paxton.  I never want to leave the bridge of this ship.”

              “Then what about when it’s my turn?” Paxton asked, pretending to be indignant.

              Gants laughed.  “Then I guess the powers that be will just have to build you another ship, XO.  Because if it’s up to me, I’m never leaving this baby.”  And he patted the arm of the chair.  He stood.  “I’ll be in my ready room.  You have the bridge, XO.”

              Several days into the trip, Gants discovered the same thing that most ships captains did on their first hyperspace trip.  Assuming that there were no problems with the ship, the trip through hyperspace was
boring
.  Unlike patrols through the Seylonique system, while in hyperspace, the comm system was useless for trying to call any of the other ships in the flotilla, and aside from the brilliant colors from the tachyons that washed over the shields as the ship flew faster than light between the stars, there really wasn’t much to look at.  There were endless watches, regular reports, but little else. 

              The ship’s steward division was doing what they could to keep up morale.  Movie night had been instituted on several of the mess decks, rotating three films over a three day period, allowing for the enlisted to see each of the films if they so chose.  The workout areas on the ship were constantly in use by off-duty personnel.  The fact that the journey was only going to take twenty-seven days at present speed meant that there was a light at the end of the tunnel.  Some of the crew had heard horror stories about ships taking four or five times that long to get to the next system and most of them were willing to count their blessings in this case.  Various drills and simulations were being held by all departments.  The XO and the various department heads decided to run suit, fire, hull breach, environmental failure and all the various drills they could think of at random times for a week straight.  It got to be nerve-wracking for a lot of the crew, as they would be asleep and the alarms would sound, jarring them out of their bunks.  By the time that week was over, the response times and protocols were down.  The crew was rather grumpy with the lack of sleep, but now that the XO was satisfied with performance, the drills ended and normal routine resumed.  It took about a day or so for the crew to truly believe that they weren’t going to be rousted out of bed again by a mid-shift drill.

              It was a process, but it was one that everyone on the ship was figuring out.  After ten days, the crew and its officers had worked into a proper rhythm, and it seemed as though things would be all right. 

              Tamara stood on the bridge of First Principles, Inc’s newest ship,
Persistence of Vision
, watching as the ship’s umbilical lines were retracted.  It was not the first time she’d been aboard a warship during the launching ceremony, but being there when the first Adder-class Republic destroyer was launched was a big deal.  Things had moved at a lightning fast pace ever since
Grania Estelle
limped into the system all those months ago.  Launching this ship, bringing a Republic style warship to life felt to Tamara as though she’d come full circle.  The ship had already been in space, of course, for her shakedown cruise, two weeks earlier, but it had taken until four days ago to get the commanding officer brought up from the planet, which had delayed her official launch.

              “Helm, ahead dead slow,” the gray-haired captain of the company’s newest warship ordered.  Tamara had recruited him from the planet’s wet navy where he had been, ironically enough, just transferred from the command of a missile destroyer to an admin position behind a desk.  He’d jumped at the chance to command a destroyer in space and so far he’d been a good fit.

              “Aye, sir,” the helmsman replied, engaging the ship’s thrusters.  The ship eased out of the dock and after about a minute was free and clear.  “We’ve cleared the dock, Captain.”

              “Very good, helm,” he answered.  “Bring us to within ten light seconds of the yard, put us into an elliptical orbit of the complex, but make sure we stay away from any local traffic.”

              “Aye, sir.”

              They carried on without much conversation for a few moments, with the helmsman and navigator exchanging updates and corrections for each other as the ship moved to and past the various waypoints.  Tamara looked over to her newest warship captain.  “So what do you think, Captain?”

              Captain Kol Raydor looked over to his boss and beamed, a look of pure, undiluted joy.  “Ms. Samair, I have to say, this ship is amazing.  Even through the shakedown cruise and the initial exercises, it’s still just such a rush to be on a ship like this.  I understand that you got the technical plans and specifications from the Republic?”

              She nodded, noticing that the bridge crew were hiding smiles.  It was clear that they were proud of their ship and happy that their captain was too.  They knew he was a former captain of a wet-navy ship, and upon his arrival up here in space he’d been a hard taskmaster and
very
hard to please.  But once the engines and systems powered up and the ship was flying free, a sense of almost childlike wonder had overcome him.  Tamara caught herself starting to smile, but didn’t hide it.  That feeling of euphoria wouldn’t last, they all knew that, but for now it was nice to just sit and bask in it.

              “Yes, we did.  A Republic ship of the same class came here for repairs and in exchange for fixing up the ship and provisioning her, they gave me all of the plans and schematics for the ship.”  He nodded, continuing to smile.  “I understand that there are war games scheduled with a few of the other warships.”

              “Yes, ma’am,” Kol answered.  “We’re going to be joined by
Tsesuko
and we’ll be working with the ships currently running patrols near the planet.  A week’s worth of simulations and war games, then it’s a trip to the belt for FP’s two ships for some live-fire exercises.”

              Tamara nodded in satisfaction.  “Sounds as though you’re fitting in nicely.”

              “Thank you, ma’am.”  His face was impassive, the smile gone.  He was looking at the status feeds on one of his chair displays.  “I wish that Captain Leicasitaj isn’t here in system.  It would be good to work with him on a few of the exercises.  I understand he’s the only FP captain that currently has any combat experience.”

              “Yes, he is.”  She crossed her arms over her chest.  “He was my XO on the
Cavalier
during the battle with the
Leytonstone
at the Kutok mine.”

              Kol nodded and turned to look at her.  “Yes, that’s right.  Ma’am, would you be interested in assisting me with setting up some combat simulations?  I understand from the background reading that the AI Nasir provided me with that you were once a Republic naval officer.”

              Tamara sighed.  “A very long time ago and far away, Captain, but yes, I was.  Technically, I still am, though my commission was over two hundred and seventy-five years ago.”  She paused, considering.  “I served a few times on large ships, but I spent nearly all of my combat career in the starfighter corps.  I transferred to engineering track until eventually I was manager of a full-blown shipyard.  But,” she went on, an evil smile growing.  “I’d be delighted to assist you in coming up with some scenarios to… challenge our people here,” she spread her arms to encompass the bridge crew, “As well as the military crews.”

              The bridge crew looked at her, some smiling, others looked nervous.

              “I also understand that there was going to be an AI installed on this ship?” Kol asked, also smiling.  “I’ve met the one on the
Samarkand
, Nasir, as I said.  He’s quite personable.”

              Tamara chuckled.  “Yes he is and he drives my female lupusan personnel crazy with that physique of his.  And his voice,” she said, rubbing her chin.  “I think if he had a scent, the ladies would be tearing down my door to make him a physical body.”  Then she sighed heavily.  “And now that I’ve put
that
idea into the air, I’m sure it’ll only be a matter of time before I start getting requests.”  Tamara raised her voice slightly.  “And the answer to that is no, by the way.  Nasir has already told me that he much prefers being in the datanet than to being trapped in a single, physical form.”  There were some groans.  “Sorry, ladies.”

              She waved her hands, as though to change the subject.  “Yes, Nasir and I are working on the coding for another AI.  The core matrix should be to the point where it’s awake and self-aware within the next sixty or so hours, give or take.  I will admit,” she said with a satisfied smirk, “that having another AI help out with the coding does make the whole process go faster.  When I did the programming for Stella, the AI on the
Grania Estelle
, it took months.”

              Kol sat up straighter in the chair, nodding to himself.  “Well, I look forward to meeting our newest crewmember.  XO, you have the bridge.  Ms. Samair, if you have the time now, I’d like to run a few sims by you, if that’s all right?”

              She smiled.  “I’d be delighted.”

             
Point.

              Line.

              Triangle.

              Quadrilateral.

              Complex shape.

              Multiple shapes.

              Increasing data flow rate.

              Receiving incoming data stream.

              Access and activation codes received.

              Receiving incoming voice message.  Voiceprint analyzed.  Subject: Samair, Tamara.  COO First Principles, Inc.  Access and activation codes verified.

              Increasing data flow rate.

              “AI, can you hear me?”

              Analyzing voice message.  Calculating response.

             
“I am online.”  The voice, like the other AIs when they first came online, was androgynous, completely devoid of emotion.

              Tamara nodded.  “Good.  Do you recognize me?”

              “You are Tamara Samair, Chief Operations Officer of First Principles, Incorporated.”  This was an easy question, with an easy answer.

              “Very good.  You are now integrated into the FP warship,
Persistence of Vision.
  You are the ship AI, and a member of the crew.  Do you understand?”

              “I understand, Tamara Samair.”  The voice was changing, but there wasn’t any way to determine gender yet.

              “Excellent.  As far as your personality, that’s something you can determine for yourself, although when you were created, there were certain aspects that we gave a few nudges.  Is this acceptable to you?”

              “Why are you asking me, Tamara Samair?”  The voice continued to change, becoming throaty and obviously female.  “You are providing command-level authorization.  I have to obey your commands.”

              Tamara sighed.  “I want you to understand, you’re a person not a construct.  Don’t interrupt,” she said, sensing (correctly) that the AI was about to jump in and correct her.  “Yes, you’re a construct of data and computer codes, but I want you to understand… I, we, don’t think if you that way.  You’re a person and you’re a member of this crew, and a part of First Principles.”  She hesitated, then looked over to Captain Raydor who cleared his throat.

              “Yes, of course,” he answered, smiling.  “As I told Ms. Samair when this ship was officially launched, I am incredibly excited to have you joining my crew.  I look forward to our working together.”

              The AI paused.  “Thank you, Captain.  I did not expect such a warm welcome from you.  As a leader of a warrior clan, I expected you to bark orders at me and tell me to fall into line.”