Hold the Star: Samair in Argos: Book 2 (56 page)

“Link up with the
Wrath
,” he ordered.  “Instruct them to follow us, we’re moving back to cover the fueling station.”

“Aye, Captain,” Kezzin replied, sending the message to the other ship.

“And put me on with this Commander Harth.”

Kezzin hesitated for just an instant.  Then he pressed the controls and nodded to his captain.  “This is Captain Skygexx of the warship
Ironhide
.  There have been no freighters through this system in several weeks.  You are intruding into the sovereign territory of the Tyseus system.  You are directed to reverse course and exit this system immediately.”  He pressed a control, ending the call.  “This is not going to go well.  But at least we’ll have an advantage if we can get them in range of the fueling station.  Send a message to the station, tell them I want them to be ready when I call.”

“They’re falling back,” Drommen reported.

“It’s really their only option,” Kamerov mused.  “They can’t take us on in a straight up fight.  Falling back is the only real option they have that isn’t suicide, but I have to wonder what they’re trying to draw us back to.”

“Agreed,” Harth replied.  He checked his tactical plot on the small display at his command chair.  “Well, the vector they’re on is going to take them very close to that gas giant.”

“You think they might have more forces hidden behind it?” the XO asked.

“Well, considering we’re not seeing anything else in the open,” Harth said.  “It’s the only safe bet.”

“What about the yard?” Drommen asked.  “I’m showing it on sensors now, Captain.”

“What do we have?”

“There’s a ship in the docking slip, Captain,” the domak replied.  “Heavy cruiser sized hull, but it’s on low power.  It’ll be hours if not longer to get it fully powered up.  But if the other two ships keep us occupied for long enough, they could conceivably be able to get that ship into the fight, if it’s complete enough.”

“How close are we going to have to get to find out more about that ship?”

Drommen considered that.  “I’d like to get within twenty light seconds, Captain, if that’s possible.”

Harth considered it.  “Continue on course for now,” he ordered.  “Keep an eye on those ships.”

“They’re still following,” Kufazik reported, hours later.  The
Ironhide
and
Wrath
were almost to the fueling station, well within range of the station’s defenses but the Republic ships were still five minutes from effective range.

“Good,” Skygexx replied.  “All right, swing us out to port, forty-five degree turn.  I want us to swing out and look as though we’re trying to draw them away from the fueling station.”

The helmsman executed the order and the
Ironhide
pulled away from the station,
Wrath
staying right with her.

“Come on, now, little Republic dog,” Skygexx purred.  “Be a good little dog and follow the meat.  Do like you’re supposed to and follow the helpless little rabbit.”

Chapter 19

              “We have breakout!” the helmsman reported. 

              Marklan Peredes Turco nodded in satisfaction.  “Thank you helm.”  He pressed a stud on his control chair.  “Engineering, bridge.”

              “Raxos here, sir,” the domak engineer replied.

              “Secure the hyperdrive, Chief,” Peredes ordered.  “We’re going to be on sublight drives at this point forward and on to the planet.”

              “Copy that, Marklan,” the tortoise like creature replied, her voice gravelly yet surprisingly light. 

              Peredes watched the displays at his command chair and he nodded again as the hyperdrive was powered down.  “Sensors, talk to me.”

              “No nearby contacts, Marklan,” Corones Parn, his sensor officer replied.  The young man had served aboard
Adroit
for almost as long as Turco had and he knew his job.  “I’m showing all six of the civilian ships right in the formation we left them in. 
Torrent
just dropped out of hyperspace, sir.”

              “Well, it looks like this run is going to be as straightforward as the last,” Turco said to no one in particular, but the crew on the bridge all nodded in agreement.  “Set a course for the inner system, toward the orbital station.”  It had been a long while since
Adroit
or her Marklan had come to Seylonique, almost fifty months.  The system seemed very much like it had the last time he’d come through here, quiet.  However, this time, bringing in a convoy of ships, he was determined that this time would be different.

              After successfully recruiting a full load of personnel back in Bimawae, the convoy had trouped back to Ulla-tran to resupply and drop off their charges.  On the way back, Turco and one of the freighter captains, Delia Blackthorne, had convinced Goris Hana and the others in the ruling council that instead of just flying their ships to Seylonique completely empty that they should transship goods here to try and make some sort of profit on this run.  It would be easy enough to reconvert the ships back to carrying passengers once the cargo had been offloaded.  The holds were loaded up with electronics and other techno goodies, hopefully they would fetch a decent price in the markets at Seylonique.  The locals in this system had been on a bit of an economic downturn in recent years.  Fewer and fewer cargo ships were going out to ply their wares and the goods coming out of Seylonique had been of poorer quality than they had been even five years ago.  Blackthorne was hoping that this shipment of good would not only generate a tidy little profit for herself, the other captains and the leaders back at Ulla-tran, but also would be the catalyst to restart the industry in this system.

              Peredes Turco wasn’t sure if he believed that would be the case, but he was more than happy to guard ships that were full of cargoes, because that meant that the captains and crews of those ships were happier.  The run from Ulla-tran to Bimawae had been nothing but torture for him, as the captains had done nothing but bitch about the empty holds they had all the way from the hyper limit to the inner system.  Then, they had complained the whole way back about carrying passengers instead of cargoes.  And then once they reached Ulla-tran they complained all the way in to the orbital.  The only respite and the only reason that Turco hadn’t considered turning his weapons on the cargo ships in sheer frustration was because during the long trip in hyperspace the ships had been unable to communicate with each other.  It was one of the things that so far modern science hadn’t been able to crack.  Communications of any type were impossible between ships while in hyperspace.

              But the various captains had decided that they would make up for lost time by sending an unending string of complaints to both him and to Theodosia Mayev, the commander of the
Torrent
.  Both of the Navy commanders commiserated about their situation, while steadfastly refusing to change their orders, their course or their speed.  The freighter captains could bitch all they wanted, but it was up to the two frigates to keep the convoy safe.  At least, Turco thought, this time they had goods to sell, which so far had decreased the complaints to almost nothing.  But of course, now they were complaining, again, that the convoy wasn’t moving fast enough.  The captains apparently were
very
excited about getting into port to sell off their cargo.

              He could not
wait
to be done with this assignment.

              George Miller was seated at his Operations console on the bridge, going over a few system status reports.  He was only one of two crewmembers here, since there was little need for a full bridge watch.  All the ship needed was for someone to keep an eye on things here and scream for help if anything did actually happen.  He was training one of the newbies to be able to stand bridge watch, and the spacer apprentice was seated at the communications console, but he wasn’t wearing an earpiece. 

              “So, Mister Miller, is this all there is for a bridge watch?” Byron Janacek asked, looking up from the console.  He was the newest of the recent hirings, a young man barely out of secondary schooling but eager to get a berth aboard a starship.  So far, George had learned that the young Mister Janacek could read and write, had decent mathematical skills but had very little in the way of practical experience and none in starship operations.  Which was why Janacek was standing port watch with George.  He would be standing watch with a more experienced hand for three weeks, to make sure that he would understand what he needed to do during the long stretches and the more experienced hands could watch him and make sure he wouldn’t do something stupid and blow up the ship.

              It was unlikely that he would be able to, for the other stations were locked down by the Captain’s order and only certain authorized personnel could actually bring the bridge consoles online.  But, and George agreed, the Captain believed that young overenthusiastic crewmembers had an innate and utterly frustrating ability to get around lockouts and somehow manage to get themselves and the ship in trouble.  Young ones seemed completely incapable of sitting at a console without getting the urge to press buttons.  It was easier on the experienced hands now, for Stella was also keeping an eye on things and would tell the spacer apprentice he was doing something wrong.  If he got too excited and ignored her orders, she had the ability to lock down the consoles or even cut the power to the station.  So far, the AI hadn’t been needed to use such drastic measures, but the Captain was taking no chances.

              “When we’re in port, yes,” he replied.  “If we were underway, all the stations would be in use and there would be more to do.  But for right now, we’re just keeping an eye on things.  Checking for incoming ships, transmissions, and basically just watching the internal feeds to make sure there are no problems.”

              Byron frowned.  “But can’t Stella do all those things?”

              George nodded.  “She can.  But Stella is busy doing other things right now, like getting the hull trusses replaced and assisting the engineering team out on the hull getting the first open section buttoned up.”  He shrugged.  “She’s got a much higher ability to multitask than we organics do, but that doesn’t mean she can be everywhere at once.  Besides, you need the practice.”

              The young spacer apprentice nodded.  “Okay, I can understand that.  So basically we’re just sitting here, minding the fort?”

              The older man smiled, glancing up from his console and his displays.  “You are.  I’m keeping an ear out for any communications, I’m monitoring the ship’s automatic functions, since we’ve got a lot of systems either rerouted or being worked on and I’m also watching the sensors.  The computers will beep if there’s a new contact coming into range, but I’m actually making sure that the EVA teams have someone watching them.”

              “You’re doing all that?”

              George shrugged.  “Well, technically, most of it isn’t needed on an in port bridge watch.  Most of the time, you just have to keep a general eye on things and report anything that does happen.  But once you get to specialist rating you get more responsibilities.”

              Byron looked impressed by this.  “What’s your rating, Mister Miller?”

              George chuckled, tapping a few keys.  “You mean you didn’t look me up?”

              “What?”

              “All of the crew are logged into the computers, Mister Janacek.  You can access mine and everyone else’s personnel jacket on your tablet.  Not all the information, of course, but the various crew and their ratings and some low level information.”  He frowned.  “But that information is meant to stay on the ship, Mister Janacek.  Our security chief will be very unhappy if you were to get loaded in a bar on the station and start blabbing about all your shipmates to everyone you meet.  You get me?”  He looked up and made eye contact.

              The young man gulped and nodded.  Corajen had thoroughly scared the shit out of him and the other recruits that had come in on the last round.  She seemed to take an interest in him in particular, as she got right in his face when she delivered her speech about being very unhappy with those who didn’t follow protocols and it was all he could do not to wet himself.  Thankfully, she’d backed off and he’d managed to keep control of his faculties.  He didn’t want to find himself in a position where the lupusan security chief or her sister would be unhappy with him.  Ever.

              “Good,” George said, moving on.  “But, going back to my original point, you can look me up.  In fact, do that now.  Go into the menu and look up ‘personnel’.  Then just follow the prompts.”

              Byron did as George instructed and a moment later, he had George’s personnel jacket up on his display.  It didn’t show a whole lot of information, his name (George Ezekiel Miller), age (34 years), homeworld of origin (Malachai-Dae), favorite food (pepperoni pizza), relationship status (blocked), rating (Specialist rank 1 Operations).  “How is some of the information blocked?”

              George chuckled.  “Are you interested in hooking up with me, Byron?”

              “What?” the young man sputtered.  “No!  No, that’s not it at all.”

              George raised a hand to stop him.  “It’s all right.  I’m sorry, I was teasing you.”  Byron looked a little wary, but seemed to be put at ease by that statement.  “I’m happily married, though I haven’t seen my wife in quite a while.”

              “Where is she?” Byron asked, enthralled.

              The ops officer smirked.  “She’s on Volarus.  With my two daughters.”

              “Volarus?” Byron repeated, a look of puzzlement on his face.  “That’s… that’s on the edge of the Cluster.”

              George sighed.  This had been a mistake.  He should have kept his mouth shut.  This was far more information than he wanted to share with the new guy on his watch.  “Yeah.  Yeah, it is.  But I think I’m done talking about this for now, okay?”

              “Um… sure, Mister Miller.”  Byron looked chastened, his head was ducked just a little.

              The operations console pinged and one of the displays lit up.  Both of their heads immediately whipped around, looking at the new signal, both of them grateful for the interruption. 

              “Um, Mister Miller,” Byron’s voice was sounding confused, but the tone of his voice was rising just a little.  “What am I seeing here?”

              George pulled in a long breath, then let it out slowly.  “What you are seeing there, Mister Janacek, is eight ships entering sensor range and they are closing on our position.”

              Byron’s mouth suddenly went dry.  “So what do we do?”

              George looked up at the young man, with a look of mild disappointment.  “What have I been trying to drill into your head, Mister Janacek about any sort of contact on the sensors?”  The young man was looking all over the communications console, but his eyes really weren’t tracking.  He was starting to panic.  “What have I told you?” he demanded, his voice cracking like a whip.

              The increase in volume seemed to pierce the veil of Byron’s panic.  “Um, we call for help.”

              George nodded, a slight smile on his face.  “That’s correct.  Now, calm down.  Those ships are still over a day away at their current speed.  Plenty of time for us to come up with something.”  He pressed a control.  “Captain, we’ve got ships incoming.  Eight total, looks like two of them are warships of some kind, about a day away from us, present speed.”

              “Understood, George.  I’m on my way.  Inform the EVA teams to police up their gear and their bots, finish up any jobs that can be done in the next sixteen hours and then get back inside,” the captain told him.

              “On it, Captain,” he replied, as the captain cut the connection.  “Now, we just do our jobs and let the Captain take care of things,” he said, looking over to Byron, who was starting to look a bit more collected.  “Deep, slow breaths, Byron.  Panicking won’t help.  You have to remain focused.  It’s okay to be scared.  Just don’t let it overwhelm you.”  And he looked back down to his operations console and tapped some keys.

              Byron Janacek looked over at Spec 1 Operations George Miller, seeing a cool and collected individual.  And while Byron had surely embarrassed himself, the ops specialist hadn’t come down on him like a ton of bricks and he hadn’t humiliated the newbie for his panic.  The young man straightened his spine, vowing he would never panic like that again.