Read Hold the Star: Samair in Argos: Book 2 Online
Authors: Michael Kotcher
“Nah,” he said, releasing Serinda and sitting up a bit straighter. The young woman sniffed and then gulped down her drink. “Haven’t seen her in two years. She’s on Romana with her family, on the edge of the Cluster. She’s working in the botanical gardens there. Hell of a pair of green hands. The flame lilies I have in my berthing compartment are hers.”
“Really?” Serinda asked. “I didn’t know that.”
He shrugged. “Keeping flowers from my lady? Not terribly masculine.”
“And now you’ve just announced it to all of us,” Quesh said with a smile.
George shrugged again. “I’m not ashamed. No one ever asked where the flowers came from. They just assumed one of the female crewmembers put them there.”
“Well good for you, George,” Tamara said boisterously, drawing all of their attention. “I’ve seen those lilies. They’re beautiful.”
“Thank you, Tamara,” he said primly and then grinned. Even Serinda managed a small smile.
It took four days of scanning for Stella to track down the sabotage in the navigational systems. It was a series of components that had been plugged into the navigational suite in four different sectors of the ship. “It must have been when the pirate techs were here and tearing out sections of the power grid,” Tamara said, nodding, pressing one finger to her lips. “Those bastards. They weren’t fixing anything at all. Just making sure that we couldn’t get away. Stella, you’re sure you found it all?”
“I’m sure, Tamara,” the AI replied. “I’ve run eleven hundred fifty-three diagnostics and just as many sweeps of the navigational systems. Chief Trrgoth has a team replacing the components now, said they should be done within the hour. Mister Vosteros on the bridge says he is ready to plot a course to Seylonique.”
Tamara nodded. “Very good. I’m on my way there now. If you could please inform him of that.”
“Of course.”
Tamara started out of Main Engineering at a brisk walk. It was a long way to go; she had to traverse nearly the length of the ship to get to the bridge at the bow. It would be a good fifteen minutes before she got there. She pulled her communicator out of her pocket and flipped it open. “Bridge, this is Samair.”
“I’m here, Tamara,” Frederick Vosteros replied immediately.
“Anyone up there with you?”
“Not at the moment. Where are you?”
“I’m on my way to the bridge,” she told him. “Did Stella fill you in on what she found?”
“She did. I’m in the process of recalculating our course for Seylonique.”
“Good. I’ll be there in a few minutes, and once Quesh gets the bad components swapped out then we can get back on the road. I just have to make a quick stop.”
“Understood. I’ll be here.”
Tamara continued on, eventually reaching the berthing compartments. Coming to the hatch of one room in particular, she keyed the door chime. A voice inside called, “Come in.” And the hatch unlocked. She waited while the door opened, took a steadying breath and then she stepped inside.
“Moxie,” Captain Vincent Eamonn acknowledged, from his seat at the small table. “Come in, come in.” He seemed far happier than he should be.
“Good to see you’re more or less up and about, Captain,” Tamara said stiffly. She stood at parade rest, just inside the hatchway which had closed behind her. She activated her HUD, looking him over. Her implants helpfully provided scans of him, showing his medical status. His skin temperature, perspiration and pupil dilation were all showing signs of artificial alteration, in other words, he was high on drugs, most likely painkillers for his amputated leg.
“So stiff and formal,” he chided, a smirk on his lips. “You’re really going to stand there in the hatchway.”
Tamara gritted her teeth. “Captain, I came here to inform you that Stella has located the problem components in the navigation system and Quesh has people swapping them out. We’ll be ready to roll in an hour or so.”
“That’s excellent news.” He frowned. “Moxie, I –…”
“Stop,” she growled, eyes flashing. “I didn’t come here to try and repair anything with our… relationship. But as the acting leader of the ship, I wanted to keep you informed.”
He smirked. “The acting leader? I left Quesh in charge.”
“Yes, you did,” she confirmed, unable to stop a flash of smugness from crossing her face. “But then he turned command over to me. He didn’t want to leave Main Engineering and he felt I had more experience.”
“So, after all your talk, after all your little speeches about how you wanted to leave your military lifestyle behind, that that life was dead, the first opportunity for you to snatch up a command you take it,” he sneered. “Is that it? Is this to punish me? Steal my ship?”
“I’m not stealing anything,” she scoffed. “What’s the matter with you? We all went through a terrible time just now and a lot of people didn’t make it through at all. Be grateful you’re alive.”
“I’d think
you’d
be a little more grateful that my plan worked,” he shot back, anger washing over his face and pouring from his gaze. “My plan got you and the lupusan out of the brig. We liberated this ship.”
Tamara ground her teeth in frustration. She hadn’t come here to fight. “As I said, Captain, I’m only here to inform you of our status. We should be ready for hyperspace in another hour or so and then we’ll be on the way to Seylonique. At best speed we should be there in thirty-two days.”
Eamonn chuckled, but with no mirth. “That’s better than the sixty or so it would have been before all of the fixes to the shields and superstructure.”
“Yes, Captain, it is. So, if that’s all?” Without waiting for a response, Tamara pivoted with perfect military precision and keyed the hatch open.
“I didn’t mean for any of these past months to happen, Moxie,” he said, his low voice causing her to pause in the hatchway. “It was supposed to just be a merger of ideas and resources in a system I thought would have the population and industrial capability to support a little merchant co-op. I wasn’t expecting pirates.”
“It’s not that, Captain,” she said, her back to him, voice just as low as his. “It’s when it all hit the fan. Suddenly I became a bargaining chip instead of a member of your crew.” Before either of them could say anything that could make things escalate, Tamara stepped out of the compartment and pulled the hatch shut behind her. Without a backward glance, she headed off at almost a trot for the bridge.
A few minutes later, she was on the bridge. Vosteros looked up at her as she came in. “You all right?” he asked, seeing her expression.
Tamara glowered at him for a moment. Then she visibly got a hold of herself. “Sorry, Frederick. Just had a meeting with the Captain.”
His own face darkened a bit. Everyone knew exactly what had gone on between the Captain, Tamara and the pirates. No one was terribly happy with it, though there were some in the crew that felt that since both of them had survived, they should just bury the hatchet. Of course there were others, the majority, who felt that Tamara had every right to feel as she did.
“What did he want?” the man demanded.
Tamara smiled a little, but it quickly faded. “I just went to give him a status update. I let my emotions get the best of me.”
“It’s understandable, Tamara.”
She let out a long breath, walked over to the helm console and plopped down in the seat. “Yeah, I know. I’ll figure it out. Let it drop.” She cleared her throat again, getting control of herself again. “All right. How’s that plot looking?”
“Ready. I double checked it and had Stella take a quick once over.”
“And?”
Vosteros chuckled. “She said it’s an efficient course, but not elegant.”
Tamara laughed. “That’s my girl.” Stella appeared on the edge of the helm display and winked, then disappeared. “All right, when you’re ready, lock in the course and I’ll make the announcement.”
He pressed a few keys on the navigation console and then nodded in satisfaction. “Course is plotted and locked in. Transferring control to the helm.”
There was a beep on her console. Tamara nodded in satisfaction. “Course received. Spinning up hyperdrive.” She pressed a control, activating shipwide communication. “This is the bridge. All hands, we are preparing to activate the hyperdrive. Stand by for jump in one minute.”
Across the ship, everyone grabbed hold of nearby handholds, as per usual on the
Grania Estelle.
When the timer reached ten seconds, Tamara began counting down. When she reached zero, she pressed the control and the hyperdrive activated. There was a sharp lurch, a whine from the drives, and the ship was suddenly in hyperspace.
“Speed in hyper is increasing,” Tamara reported, pushing her controls up. “Red five… six… seven… We’re up into the next level. Two… leveling out at Orange level three. Power level stabilized. We’re holding at the best speed we’re going to get with our structural integrity.” She sighed. “This poor baby needs a lot of structural work. Not to mention the engines, the sensors and the list goes on.”
“From what I hear, that’s your idea of a good time, Samair,” Vosteros replied with a grin, securing his console. “Nav station secure. We’re on course for Seylonique. Estimated time of arrival is thirty-one days, nine hours, present speed.”
Tamara secured her own console and leaned back in the chair, scrubbing her face with her hands. She groaned, then pushed away from the helm and stood. “Well, Mister Vosteros, I think I’m going to leave the bridge watch in your very capable hands and go and check on a few things. I’ll have someone up to relieve you in a few hours.”
“Regular watch rotation?”
“Yes.” She stepped to the communications console. “All hands, this is the bridge. We are on course for Seylonique, ETA thirty-one days, nine hours. Set normal watch rotation, second section has the watch.” Tamara ended the transmission. “Well, a month to go and we’ll be in Seylonique. Any plans once we get there?”
“I’ve never been to Seylonique,” Vosteros said in reply, leaning back in the chair. He put his hands behind his head. “I hear they’ve got some good space based industry, a station or two and of course, the battlecruiser.”
Tamara blinked. “So that’s why everyone wanted to go there. You were hoping the people there and the battlecruiser would take care of the pirate problem?”
“You didn’t know?” he asked, puzzled. “I thought someone would have told you.”
“How?” she returned. “I was in isolation in the brig, remember?”
“Yeah, but I figured that someone would have told you once you got out,” Frederick reasoned. “I guess that never happened.”
Tamara frowned, rubbing the back of her neck. “No. But that’s all right. Where can I find the information about what we can find at Seylonique? And that battlecruiser?”
Frederick’s face darkened a bit again. He sat up, putting his hands on the console. “The only one that had any info on the battlecruiser was…” He broke off.
“Was?” Tamara pressed.
He took a deep breath. “Cookie. He had a digital on his datapad. Showed it to the group and she was… Well she was a sexy beast.”
Tamara laughed. “Wow, that’s high praise. I’m intrigued.” She sighed as another wave of sadness washed over her. “I’ll have to check out his database, to see if I can find that digital.”
Tamara felt slightly unclean going through Cookie’s database. In her tiny stateroom, and using the Captain’s key, she had updated her electronic credentials to the highest level possible, which gave her access to everything not sealed or encrypted under the Owner. That was hardly an issue, she had decryption and unlocking algorithms that could get through anything on this ship. But she hardly felt that was necessary as she unlocked Cookie’s database and started looking around.
There was a
lot
of data in here. Most of the files were to be expected. An ungodly number of recipes, from all over the Cluster, some dishes even from the Republic and the Federation. Where he expected to get ingredients for some of these, Tamara had no idea. But it looked like Cookie had made notes here and there, indicating substitutions or outright changes. Tamara copied the lot into her own private database, for potential handover to the new chef when either someone got promoted or someone new got hired. The three kids down in the mess hall, Cookie’s former mess attendants, were holding up their end but they didn’t have Cookie’s flair, his gift or imagination with food. At least they weren’t stuck eating nothing but sandwiches and canned soup, but the fare wasn’t quite as good as before. They had Cookie’s ready folder for recipes, perhaps they could do better with these. She would pass them along later.