Hold the Star: Samair in Argos: Book 2 (3 page)

              “Ah ha!” the chef crowed.  He held out the datapad.  “I knew I still had it!”  He handed the datapad to Taja, who was closest.  She glanced at it, nodded, and then passed it on to Vosteros.

              The man took the datapad and turned it so he could see it better.  The digital had been enhanced, it was clearly taken from a handheld device and through an armor glass viewport.  The ship in question was about three kilometers away from the photographer, but it was clear enough.  In space, three kilometers was almost on top of the other ship.  The battlecruiser was long and sleek, bristling with turbolaser batteries and heavy lasers.  It was flying in the same direction, probably on a parallel course with the ship the photographer was on, so he couldn’t see the engines from that vantage.  But the ship certainly did look formidable.  “She’s beautiful,” Vosteros commented.  “If a bit… stodgy.”

              Taja chuckled, despite herself.  “Stodgy?  Thousands of tons of military hardware and what you call her is
stodgy
?”

              “What I called her was beautiful,” he corrected.  “But she looks a bit stodgy.  But perhaps that’s just what we’re needing.  And besides, a ship like that should be able to hold off most if not anything any pirates might try to throw at them.”

              “And a local self-defense fleet might be ethically bound to try and help a ship in distress,” Ka’Xarian said, nodding slowly.  “Like us.”

              “Maybe,” Vosteros replied.  “But it’s certainly better than what we have here.  We should also be prepared to help out.  Sell them some spare parts for maintenance on their ship.  If what you tell me about their hospital ship is any indication, maybe they’d be a bit more tractable if we have something to offer them instead of just showing up there with a hand out.”

              “That’s an excellent idea,” Taja piped up.  “But how?”

              “What do you mean how?” Vosteros asked.  “How did you make parts for my ship?”

              Taja sounded unsure.  “Well, we used the replicators.  But that was when we had Tamara to help.  And she’s in the brig.”

              “We don’t really need her,” the zheen engineer replied.  “We can use the replicators without her.”

              “She gave you the replicator codes?” Taja demanded, starting to come out of her seat in disbelief.

              The zheen shook his head, buzzing with a chuckle.  “No, she didn’t, Taja.  But that doesn’t mean we can’t still use them.  There are plenty of things not on the restricted list that I can still make.  We can make things like plasma conduits, computer chips, hell, deck and bulkhead plating, among other things.  All the things will have to be civilian grade, but we can still make them.  I’m sure the people there will have things that they want that we can make for them, even if they aren’t weapons or things like that.”

              They were all looking speculative.  “I’m going to have to go over what we have in the holds, and what we can use for materials,” Taja said.  She took out her datapad and started furiously making notes.  She grimaced, then brightened.  “Actually, I’d forgotten about the rocks the Captain gathered up right before we had the problems back at Ulla-tran.  After what went down in Ulla-tran, we had other things on our minds.”

              Ka’Xarian shrugged.  “We’ll just have to work with what we’ve got.  We have to have some sort of fig leaf to offer them.  Who knows?  Maybe just us showing up there and asking for help will be enough?”

              The glances they all shared indicated that no one really thought that, as much as they all might want to.  The Argos Cluster was a hard place to live in, especially nowadays with piracy on the rise.  Systems like Seylonique would be wary to trust outsiders, especially those who came in and demanded payment for services.

              “So say we get to Seylonique and we get the captain of the battlecruiser to talk to us,” Cookie posed the thought that no one else was bringing up.  “What then?  If they just compensate us for repairing the
Kara
that’s all well and good, but it won’t solve our problem.  We’d need to get them on board the
Grania Estelle
.”

              “Bring a representative and her bodyguards aboard to inspect our replicator and industrial base,” Taja suggested.  “We want to prove to the locals that we can deliver on what we say we can.  We get them onboard and then we inform them that we’ve been boarded by pirates and that we desperately need their assistance.  In return, we’ll work to help out with any repairs they need on any of their ships or industries.”

              “Works for me,” Vosteros replied.

              The others nodded their assent.

              “But for any of this to work, we’re going to need to get to Seylonique and get locals aboard,” the zheen reminded them all.  “Should we bring the Captain in on this?”

              “He’s ignoring us,” Taja spat.

              “He’s in a funk over Tamara,” Ka’Xarian replied.  “I’m angry at him too, but we can deal with that later.  I think we might need his help to pull this off.  Or at least, his agreement to stay out of it if he won’t agree.”

              “I’ll talk with him,” the tiny woman said with a sigh.

              “No,” Cookie said, standing up.  “
I
will talk to him.  Sorry, Taja, but you’re too close to him.  You two will get into a fight and I’m not saying you won’t be justified,” he said, holding up his hands placatingly as she flared, “but that’s something for when the Armsman and his men are gone.  Agreed?”

              Taja glared at him, but then relented.  “Fine.  You talk to the bastard.  You’re right, I’d probably want to plant my fist in his jaw rather than get his help.”  She sat in her chair and seethed.

              “Then it sounds like we have a plan,” Vosteros said.  “How long are we going to be on this run to Amethyst?”

              “A while,” Taja replied.  “Ninety-three days now, give or take.  A very long time.”

              “Anything we can do to speed up?” Cookie asked.  The others gave him disparaging looks.  “Hey, I’m a chef, not a deck officer or an engineer.  I just feed the crew.”

              “A very important job, Cookie,” Captain Vosteros replied with a smile.  “People often look down on the steward division on a big ship, but you and your people actually are among the most important.”

              Cookie beamed at the praise.  “You see?” he demanded, rounding on the others.  “Someone appreciates me.”

              Ka’Xarian buzzed with laughter, Taja only rolled her eyes.

              Vosteros chuckled as well.  “But to answer your question, Cookie, I think the answer is probably no.  There’s only so much that can be done as far as speed.  It’s all about the drives as well as the shield strength.”

              The zheen nodded, steepling his purple-hued fingers.  “Unfortunately, running at Red level six is the best we can get out of her at this point.  Once we get to Amethyst, we’ll see what we can do to rectify that, hopefully get back up into the Orange levels at least.”

              “I think we might also need to see what we can do about getting Corajen and Saiphirelle out of the brig,” he added after a moment of silence.  “Not just because it’s cruel to keep them in there but because they’re among our most potent weapons.”

              More nods.  “All right, I think this meeting had better break up,” Cookie said suddenly.  “We stay in here too long and the good Armsman is going to start wondering what we’re up to.”

              “Understood.  When are you going to talk to the Captain?” Ka’Xarian asked, ushering everyone to the door.

              “Tomorrow,” the chef asked.  “I’ll bring him his dinner and we’ll talk.”

              Taja gave him a look, which was as cold as frozen helium, but Cookie knew that cold wasn’t directed at him.  He shivered anyway.  “I’m going to get some answers, Taja.  And hopefully bring him back to us.”

              She looked away.  “If we didn’t need him, I might be tempted to just beat him to death.”  With that, she pulled open the hatch and stepped out into the corridor.  The others shared a look and then all but Ka’Xarian followed her out.

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

              “So, prisoner, how are we doing today?” Gideon Jax’s voice was that same arrogant drawl that Tamara had grown to hate.  He was also using some psychological techniques on her, since he never used her name or some derivation, trying to break her down and to treat her a non-person.

              Tamara didn’t answer.  She just sat on the bunk and looked over at him, her gaze cool, her face an expressionless mask.  He pulled the remote from his pocket and she tensed.  He didn’t press the control, but a small, ugly smile spread across his face.  Tamara sighed.  “I’ve had better weeks,” she admitted, her tone somewhat bitter.

              He nodded, lowering his hand, but not putting the remote away.  “I imagine you have.  But we can work to improve your lot in life.  But, we’re going to have a discussion about the replicators.  Specifically, how they work, what they can do, what you need to do it, and how you can make it so that I or someone else can use them.”

              “Well, what I can tell you is that anyone can use the replicators to make things, but in order to make more restricted technologies you need to have the codes.”

              He beamed.  “Excellent.  And I suppose you have them?”

              Another sigh.  “I have a good number of them, yes, but certainly not all.”

              “Then you can give them to me.”

              “Actually, I can’t.”

              A thundercloud appeared just behind his eyes.  “That is a very bad answer, prisoner.”

              She shrugged.  “It’s the one I have to give you.  I can’t just tell them to you, the codes don’t work that way.  You have to have neural implants similar to mine and the codes are uploaded to them.  From there, you access the replicator and then use the codes to initiate the building cycle.  The problem, however, is that the machines need to have your access with the codes and your identity.”

              “What problem is that?”

              “You can’t just have the codes,” she explained.  “Your identity has to have been mated to the codes, which isn’t something that you can just hack together on a computer console.  The replicators will verify that your ID and your codes match.  Even assuming you had the right implants, I couldn’t just give you my codes.  They have embedded data in them that links them back to me, which when the replicators see the discrepancy, it will reject your access.”

              “So then I will need you to give me a fresh set of codes, and embed access for me.”  He said it as though it was a matter of course.

              “It isn’t that simple.  In fact, it’s insanely complicated.  The codes had to be granted either by Republic military headquarters, or by the civilian government.  All the embeds have to match and they have to be official.  The encryption is very good and very deep.  In fact, as far as I know, it’s never really been broken.  I’m sure someone, somewhere has cracked it.  But I don’t think that
I
can.”

              His eyes narrowed.  “And why is it that I think you’re just blowing smoke at me?  Thinking that because you’re some high and mighty Republic Navy officer and I’m just a pirate Armsman that you can lie to me and I won’t notice?”

              “I’m not lying to you,” she said, a minor thread of worry starting to work its way into her voice.  “You can look it up on the shipnet.  It’s in there.  And since your device has cut me off from the computer network, I haven’t been able to go in there to mock up the information to try and trick you.”

              Jax was nodding slowly.  “I will check on this.  In the meantime, you get to stay here.”  Tamara sighed.  “But if what you told me pans out, then I will allow you out for a trip to sickbay and your quarters to get some clothes.”

              Tamara nodded.  “I’m not lying.”

              “We’ll see.”  He held up the remote again and she flinched.  He chuckled but didn’t activate it.  The door to the cell swung shut and latched behind him.

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

              The door chime buzzed.  Eamonn looked up from where he was sitting over to the hatch, disinterest plain on his dark face.  He’d been holed up in his quarters for days now, more than a week without seeing anyone for more than a few moments and then only when the steward would bring his meals.  He’d open the door, the messman would hand over the tray, and then he’d leave.  An hour or two later, someone would come to bus the dirty dishes, which would be found outside the hatch to the captain’s stateroom.

              It wasn’t time for his midday meal, whoever it was had arrived about twenty minutes early.  Not that it really mattered, it was only twenty minutes.  He hauled himself up out of the chair and walked to the hatch.  Grabbing the handle, he keyed the lock and pulled the hatch open. 

              But it wasn’t one of the stewards on the other side of the hatch.  It was Cookie.  And he wasn’t holding a tray; his arms were crossed over his chest.