Tuesday, October 5, 2021

Miami Pete 35

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The rendezvous with the Old Pack Mule was easily enough accomplished.  Getting my plan past the crew, on the other hand, was not.  Every one of them had some reason that they were the one I had to take with me.  

Well, except Shelly.

"Bleh bleh bleh bleh bleh bleh bleh, Captain.  The idea of leaving us behind isn't worthy of words.  I, for one, am not abandoning my Captain to her fate.  Neither is any of the others.  They all came up with excuses to stay, but I don't feel like trying to be all that creative.  So Bleh!  You're not going without me.  You can't argue with that, so don't even try."

"So none of you are willing to follow orders?"  I asked.

"Well technically, we all became mutineers when we didn't surrender to Captain Tarkin when he demanded it."  Lt. Cmdr. Dorn said.  "There is enough irregularity there to keep it in the courts for years, but in the end, it would all boil down to if Captain Tarkin's backers stay in favor or not."

"Sadly, that is how the Morganite Courts work."  Lt. Tine said.  From the way everyone nodded, and what I had heard about Lt. Tine's experiences, I was sure he was right.

"I have an idea, I don't know if you are going to like it Captain."  Cmdr. Barona said.

"Well, today is a day of not liking things.  Might as well put it out there."  I said.

"Why don't we send OPM down to the planet to give the survivors a chance, and beat feet back to Morgan space.  Hopefully we can find the Admiral and bring the Fleet to help the rest."  Barona was right, I didn't like the idea one bit.

"So who stays with the Old Pack Mule and flies it down?"

PO Smart got all excited.  "Nobody has to stay Captain.  The OPM has an autopilot system that can handle the landing.  It just needs coordinates!"

"That would be nice if it worked."  I hated to burst his bubble.

"Nope, it does work.  It's one of the systems we ignored because Haul-o-caster didn't have a spare, since that kind of system isn't used on the Haul-o-caster."  PO Smart said.  "One of the things I've been doing in-transit is getting all the ancillary systems online.  The autopilot system is repaired and tested."

"But what about our plan to sneak in using the Old Pack Mule to contact the Admiral?  Can't do that if we leave it here."

Barona answered that.  "We've already decided, as a crew, to hit this thing with Tarkin head-on.  Having OPM in reserve would be nice, but we don't really need it.  Those people below do need it."

"OK, how will we know where to send it?"  I asked, already knowing they would have an answer.

"Captain, if we assume orbit and go to full active, these improved sensors should do a reasonable job of cutting through the distortion."  Lt. Tine said.

"I feel it's my job to advise that assuming orbit will have us trapped against the planet if there are any attackers still in the area." Lt. Cmdr. Dorn said,  "And by going full active on the sensor suite, we'll be painting ourselves for anyone in system to see.  That does not mean that I am against the plan, it is just my job to advise the Captain, in case the Captain didn't already realize."  Lt. Cmdr. Dorn seemed a little uncomfortable with having spoken up.

"No worries Lt. Cmdr. Dorn.   You were doing your job, and doing an exemplary job of it."  I said.  "Please continue to advise me whenever you feel it is appropriate." 


"Barns!  Take us into orbit.  Get the specifics from Lt. Tine as to what he needs to make this successful.  Lt. Tine, find us someone to send help to."

I was surprised at how long the process took, but a few hours later we not only found a group of survivors, one of them had an old comm system that withstood the bombardment and they were able to contact us.  Guess they just don't make them like they used to.

Cmdr. Barona and Barns took one last trip over to the Old Pack Mule and got the autopilot set to land at the coordinates we negotiated with the settlers.  Once they returned, we were able to kick it off and send the Old Pack Mule down to the planet.  I have to admit, it hurt a little seeing all those spare parts just fly away, but I had to remind myself we were saving lives.  Spare parts are replicable, people aren't.

"Barns, pull us out of orbit and make for Morganite space at best speed."  I ordered.  "I haven't slept for days,  Commander Barona, see that everyone gets some down time."  With that I headed for my rack.



Monday, October 4, 2021

Miami Pete 34

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As ever, reality and practicality always wins.

We needed to know what was going on.  We couldn't just stay in hiding forever.  The original idea for coming to Angmar were valid.  We needed a place to lie low for a bit that would provide an atmosphere so we could open the ship and get our new weapons mounted and sensors installed.  As a bonus we found the Old Pack Mule, and was able to fix her up to use as a scout vessel.  Back in her day, the Old Pack Mule would have been considered a medium freighter.  In today's universe, it would probably fit inside a medium freighter's cargo bay.  It's still a little bulky for a light freighter, but it would pass.  There are thousands, if not millions of old freighters flitting around space that are just as old and older.

Sadly, the "kids" - PO Smart, Shelly, and Barns - managed to find out what became of the Old Pack Mule's original crew.  Against common sense, but I guess not against orders that nobody thought were needed, our three youngest crew members decided it might be fun to do some exploring of the manufacturing facility that we found ourselves in.  At least they weren't completely stupid, they took an ample supply of water with them, we had plenty after all, and marked their path so that they would be able to find their way back.  What they found was a lot of empty rooms, and a trail of evidence that someone had been there before.  They followed that trail down to the very deepest part of the facility where they found the desiccated remains of the original crew.

The harsh reality of Angmar is that Angmar wants to kill you.  It doesn't matter who you are, your wealth, your status, Angmar is equal opportunity that way.  After a good look at the old engines, and a few hours of patching hole after hole, the Old Pack Mule's story is as old as Angmar itself.  They were running from something, or chasing something.  Probably running - nothing I saw gave any indication that they might be chasing - and it looks like either whoever they were running from caught up, or they ran into some of the local denizens of the Angmar system and got their ship shot up.  They didn't have much of a choice but to land.  Instead of landing at the settlement they decided to hide in one of the empty facilities.  This one.  They were too damaged to repair and try to slip away, so they stayed.  Eventually the water ran out and they did the only reasonable thing, they headed down as far as they could go in hopes that Angmar would have mercy.

Except, the only mercy that Angmar VII offers is death.

The part that confuses me is the shuttles.  Sure, they were crated for storage and needed to be assembled, but my guys got them put together and flying in no time.  They almost had to have been state of the art back when the Old Pack Mule landed.  While they are no longer state of the art - PO Smart is already dreaming of upgrades - nobody would be surprised to see them in use as they are.  Shuttle tech just hasn't changed that much in the last hundred years.  So, why didn't the crew of the Old Pack Mule use the shuttles to save themselves?  We'll probably never know.


It's never easy to split a crew in half.   No matter what we tried, our crew just didn't split neatly into two pieces.  In the end, I ended up with the higher ranks, and Barona ended up with the kids.  First, I took Dorn.  He was right, the OPM - see, now they have me doing it - doesn't have weapons to speak of. Putting Dorn there would be a waste of talent.  Then I got Lt. Tine because, once again, Hauley has this nice new sensor suite, and OPM gots nothing.  Chief Williamson has warship and weapons experience, where PO Smart has mostly served on diplomatic and transport ships, so I got the Chief, and Barona got PO Smart.  Since Barona needed more than PO Smart, she got both Barns and Shelly.

True to her word, Barns had tears rolling down her face when she found out.  I assured her that the Old Pack Mule wasn't forever, and she would be back in her spot at the Haul-o-caster's helm as soon as we could make it happen.  The truth is, Barns was the hardest call.  Everyone else seemed to slot in where it made sense.  On the other hand, both ships had pressing reasons to have Barns on board.  Barona won because there was just no way she could handle the Old Pack Mule with just PO Smart and Shelly.  I just hoped we wouldn't regret that decision because I would sorely miss having Barns at the helm if we got into a tussle.  I'm sure Lt. Tine is a fine pilot, he just wouldn't hold a candle to Barns, I'm not sure anyone could.

Mother Ahmisa decided to stay on the Haul-o-caster.  Cmdr. Barona asked her to join them on the Old Pack Mule, but Mother Ahmisa said no.  The most pressing use of her talents would be for damage control if we got into a fight, and the Haul-o-caster was the more important ship to protect.  I stayed out of it, anything involving Mother Ahmisa, in my opinion, is Morganite business, and none of mine.


Angmar is pretty out of the way, so it was going to take us months to get back to Morgan space, or at least near Morgan space.  A trip made longer by us skulking about, spending time dropping siphons into gas giants for reaction mass, and avoiding settlements and space stations as much as possible.  We didn't know what Tarkin and his cronies were sending against us, so we wanted to be careful.  

Like all fun things, skulking about like a fugitive couldn't last forever.  Eventually we needed supplies.  When planning our round about trip back from the Angmar system, I anticipated this and scheduled a stopover on Pendragon III.  The Pendragon system was named long ago by a long forgotten Arthurian fanboy, something that it seems to have rubbed off on the settlers of Pendragon III.  Or maybe the settlers of Pendragon III were already a few cards shy of a full deck.  Who knows?  The market just off the spaceport on Pendragon III was one of the few places that Pete would let me get off the Haul-o-caster and roam free.  It is one of my favorite places in the universe.  The people all wore such extravagant costumes, all vaguely Arthurian themed.  Pete always told me that if I wore my cloak and hood, the people would like me more and I would get better deals.

I know now that Pete was just getting me to hide my cyber device, or at least make it less conspicuous, but back then it was pure fun.  

When we were finally on the last legs of the journey to Pendragon system I spend hours talking to my crew about the costumes and pageantry.  As luck would have it, I was stuck with the three old men, none of whom wanted to talk about beautiful costumes and gallant finery.  Mother Ahmisa finally came to my rescue - or maybe theirs, depending on how you look at it - and listened while I babbled on about dresses I'd seen and let me show her the pennant I won at a ring toss booth. 

I'm pretty sure she was just humoring me.

I was all smiles and fidgets when we finally entered the Pendragon system.  I was so excited that I couldn't hold still.  The lone jump point in the Pendragon system was pretty far out, so it was a couple days to get to Pendragon III, but I was so excited that I already had my cloak and hood out, ready to go.

"Captain, there is a problem."  Lt. Tine reported not long after we transited into the system.

I glanced over at the board.  One red light, but that one wasn't surprising.  That one had been popping red every jump since we left Angmar.  It was just a monitor for a backup system, and the primary was solid, and always went green.  Something to fix, but not an immediate problem.

Then Lt. Tine called Mother Ahmisa to the bridge.  Last we had heard from her she was off in the galley making dinner.

"Lt. Tine, report."  I asked just as Mother Ahmisa arrived.

"Captain, we are receiving weak distress calls from Pendragon III." Lt. Tine reported.  "Passive long range scans are showing quite a bit of radiation and weapons residue consistent with an attack by the 'rus."

"No."

"All hands battle stations.  Dorn get the guns powered up.  Tine go active on the sensors, find out what's going on and if there are any 'rus still in the area."  I ordered.  Mother Ahmisa positioned herself at the comm system.  We hadn't really talked about where people would be if I called battle stations, which I realized was yet another failure.  Tine was at the sensor console rather than the helm, and Dorn was at the weapons station.  So I slid myself into the seat at the helm and pointed us towards Pendragon III.  Someone had to do it.

"Mother Ahmisa, get me the Old Pack Mule."  I said, not sure yet what I would say.

"OPM Actual on the comm for you Captain."  Mother Ahmisa announced.

"On the big screen"  I said, then  "OPM, dive for cover.  Haul-o-caster is going to take a look and see if the way is clear."

"What's going on Haul-o-caster?"  I had forgotten that the Old Pack Mule's sensor suite, that used to belong to the Haul-o-caster, was nowhere near as powerful as the one Hauley now carried.

"'rus attack on the settlement as far as we can tell.  Find a place to lie low.  I'll update you on the situation as soon as we know something."

"I'll head for these coordinates.  There are some rocks there that'll help us hide.  Once we get there, we'll play like a hole in space."  Cmdr. Barona said.  Well, Captain Barona now I guess.  A set of coordinates popped up on the screen.

As I am fond of saying, space, it's big man.  So a ship, especially one as small as Hauley or even a medium freighter like the Old Pack Mule which is about three times Hauley's size, can usually power down and make themselves a lot harder to detect.  Nearly impossible for passive sensors alone.  Things like powered up engines or running reactors will ruin that effect, so in order to hide a ship must power down almost completely.  Powering down like that can be a little nerve wracking, but it isn't too bad.  Most ships have a power bank that is kept charged by the reactor when it is running.  That power bank is used for emergencies or when the reactor needs to be brought down for maintenance.  The power bank on the Old Pack Mule is old and crusty, but it should be able to run the ship for a few days at least.  

Barona and the Old Pack Mule taken care of, I pointed Hauley towards Pendragon III.


The damage was terrible.  Debris clouds where space stations and orbital manufacturing stations once had been.  The cloud scoop on the gas giant was gone, one can only assume it was sucked into the giant itself.    Pendragon III, where we had hoped to land and purchase supplies, was a mess. 

"Captain, radiation is consistent with 'rus weapons, but some of this damage looks like KEW strikes, the 'rus are not known to use kinetic weapons."  Lt. Tine reported.  

"Do you detect any ships?  Are any of the attackers still around?"

"None that I can detect Captain."  Lt. Tine answered, "Although they could have gone dark to avoid detection."

"Survivors on the planet?"  I asked, although I didn't have much hope.  The surface of Pendragon III had been rendered all but uninhabitable.

"It's hard to tell, it's practically nuclear winter down there.  I'm seeing evidence that there might be a few pockets of survivors here and there."  Lt. Tine reported.

"Not much we can do for them, we don't have supplies to drop and we definitely don't have room to evacuate anyone if we did want to land on the surface, which I don't suggest.  The atmosphere is a mess down there.  We would be just as likely to crash as land, and getting back to space if we did make it down isn't sure either."

I felt I had to defend my ship.  "I think Hauley is tougher than you give her credit for."  I said, but had to add.  "But you aren't wrong.  For what little help we could provide, I don't think the risk is worth it.  Any other ideas?"

"We make for the Fleet."  Lt. Cmdr. Dorn said.  "I know it's a risk, and we might be arrested, but only the Morganite Fleet would be able to help these people now."

"Mother Ahmisa, Get in contact with Barona.  We'll rendezvous with them and transfer you guys to the Old Pack Mule.  No sense in getting us all rolled up.  I'll see if I can contact the Morganite Fleet alone."

"Won't work Captain."  Lt. Tine said.  "You're a fugitive, and you aren't Morganite.  The Fleet wouldn't listen to you.  Take me with you, they'll listen to me, and I have the added distinction of being acknowledged by the Fleet as a member of an oppressed people.  They have to give me at least a certain amount of leniency due to Morganite Law."  



Tuesday, September 21, 2021

Miami Pete 33

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"What's the plan Captain?"  Cmdr. Barona asked.  We were having dinner with Mother Ahmisa.  No added crew member this time.  The crew was having a crew's dinner in the galley.  This was another new tradition.  Well, new to me anyway.  For the Morganite crew, it was not only old-hat, it was expected.

"I figure you guys will fly the Old Pack Mule back to Morganite space and poke around and see what you find out."  I said.  "Speaking of, Old Pack Mule seems like a goofy name, have you thought of changing it?"

"You know as well as I do that it is tradition among the Morganites to never change a ship's name."  Cmdr. Barona replied.  "And quit dodging the question.  Don't you intend to join us on the OPM?"

"No, my place is here on the Haul-o-caster.  Don't worry about me, I'm thinking of something.  I've always wanted to head inwards and see the inner systems."

Both Cmdr. Barona and Mother Ahmisa were shocked. 

"You don't intend to stay with your crew?"  Mother Ahmisa asked.

"Look, we both know this crew was stuck with me as their Captain.  They deserve a Captain who won't get them exiled from their homes and having to look over their shoulders for the rest of their lives."

Cmdr. Barona opened her mouth to say something but Mother Ahmisa held her hand up stopping her.

"Captain, I can see how you might feel that way.  Let's try a little experiment.  Come along."  Mother Ahmisa lead us down to the Galley.  "Ok everyone!   I'm sorry for intruding on your crew's dinner, but a question has come up.  We now have two ships, but only one crew.  The Captain will be staying with the Haul-o-caster, and Commander Barona will be taking the Old Pack Mule.  I would like each of you to write on a piece of paper your name, and which ship you want to be on.  We can't guarantee you'll be on the ship you ask for, needs of the fleet and all that, so adding a short bit about why you chose the ship you chose might help us decide.."

There was a bustle as the crew gathered up paper, which wasn't used all that often anymore, and set to writing.  When they were done, the papers were handed to Mother Ahmisa.

"Very well," Mother Ahmisa announced,  "We'll take a look and plan accordingly."

Mother Ahmisa lead us back to the Captain's table and we finished our meal with the stack of papers sitting face down beside Mother Ahmisa's plate.  I knew what they all said, I don't know why Mother Ahmisa thought leaving it till after the meal meant anything.

I also don't know why it was so hard to eat that meal.  It felt like the proverbial meat cleaver being held over my head.

After dinner, Mother Ahmisa insisted on cleaning up the table before getting down to business.  I had given up trying to help Mother Ahmisa with the cleanup.  She always refused, and made a fuss if I tried to help anyway.  That time, she said, would be the perfect time for me to talk to the crew member,  only... we didn't have one.  

"I have to tell you Captain, I'm awful nervous about what those papers are going to say."  said Cmdr. Barona.  

"I'm not, I'm sure they'll all say they want to go on the Old Pack Mule with you."

Cmdr. Barona looked at me like I had two heads.

"I would have gotten them killed so many times since we left Morgan space!"  Cmdr. Barona exclaimed.  "It's you who have kept them alive and gotten them through!  They know that!"

"What?  I didn't do anything."  I replied.  "I sat around tossing out orders, half of which you had to fix to keep anyone from being killed."

"Sleeping bags?  Bungee cords?  Does that ring a bell?"  Cmdr. Barona said.  "Do you have any idea how many crew members on the Lightning were killed or injured?"

"There were a few bumps and bruises, that's all."  I said.

"No, when we got back to the Bait and Tackle, I did some snooping.  That first transit where both ships were damaged, and we ended up towing the Lightning to the stash, Captain Tarkin lost three crew members.  He never told us about that." Cmdr. Barona continued.  "And when we transited the unstable matrix, he lost five more.  He lost eight crew members on that mission, we lost none."

"Well, the Haul-o-caster is pretty stout."  I said.  I guess it'll never be a secret how much I love my ship.

"Morganite Fleet regulations are that anytime life is lost on a Morganite fleet ship, an investigation is done.  As we are another ship that transited the same matricies around the same time, we should have been required to provide a comment, yet we were not.  I asked the crew to write up their observations and file them anyway.  The Chief headed up the effort, and quite a few members of the crew added to them."

"Really?  I didn't know, I would love to see them."

"Traditionally, Captains never gets to see them.  That way, the crew can be as honest as they wish, without worrying about repercussions."  Barona said. 

"Oh, I guess that makes sense."  

"I will tell you this, the entire crew signed onto both documents.  The first credited the incredible shape, and the superior implementation of systems on the Haul-o-caster as the number one reason we didn't lose any crewmembers when both ships were hit by the anomaly during transit.  On the second, every single crew member signed on crediting your experience and excellence as a Captain as the reason the Haul-o-caster's crew sailed through unharmed..  Frankly, I'm a little surprised that Captain Tarkin didn't lose his command over losing eight crew members.  That goes to show just how strong his support is."

"Or his allies' hatred of me."

That stopped her.

"There might be something to that, but I don't think so."  Barona replied after a moment of thought.  "The use of cybernetic devices is controversial in some of the Morganite sects.  Some go so far as to ban cybernetic use even as prosthetics, or openly protest the use of cyber devices on even the most violent criminals.  I don't think even the most extreme would go through all this over dislike of an Outsider.  No offence."

"None taken, I am after all from Outside Morgan space.  What would these sects use instead?"  I asked.

Cmdr. Barona laughed.  "Peacenik sects say love and understanding.  Others say compulsive military service.  More hardline sects would go with execution.  Then there is one odd sect that suggests physical abuse and torture.  Morganizm is a very diverse religion."

Finally, Mother Ahmisa was finished with cleaning up.  Without even looking at them, Mother Ahmisa set the stack of papers in front of me.  I don't know what I was expecting, maybe that she or Cmdr. Barona would tally them up and tell me how badly I did, or maybe try to hide it from me and tell me I did fine.  Anything but set the stack of papers down in front of me and walk out.

I sat alone, afraid to look but not knowing why.  I thought about that for a moment and realized how much this was going to hurt.  I love my ship.  Haul-o-caster is more than just my home, it's almost a part of me.   But, this is my crew.  We laughed together.  We cried together.  When the chips were down, we all worked our asses off because we didn't want to let each other down.  We're a family.

We're a family.

I had never really had a family before.  Sure Pete and I were almost like a family, only that was different.  I can't put my finger on how, but it was.

I almost tossed the papers in the recycler without reading them.  I couldn't bear it. 

"Kid, you gotta rip that bandaid off."  The Pete in the back of my head said. 


Lt. Cmdr. Dorn:  I would like to stay on the Haul-o-caster.  The Captain will need me on weapons if she is attacked.

PO Smart:  Haul-o-caster.  Chief Williamson has more experience so he should go with OPM.

Shelly:  Hauley,  Cmdr. Barona, please don't be mad.

Williamson:  Haul-o-caster.  The Old Pack Mule needs a younger engineer with more energy.

Barns:  Anyone can fly that old hunk of iron.  After flying the Haul-o-caster, I would cry every day if I had to fly the OPM.  Please please please let me stay with the Captain and Haul-o-caster.

Lt. Tine:  Captain Kid was the first person who ever looked past my former sect, past the prison tattoos on my face, and seen a human being.  I will be staying on the Haul-o-caster, even if I have to resign from the fleet and beg the Captain to take me on as a deckhand.

They all wanted to stay.  

Friday, September 17, 2021

Miami Pete 32

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Ah the exuberance of youth.

Was I ever young?  Since my body is a human one, I assume I came from an egg, fertilized in the womb of my mother and born like everyone else.  Pete always called me Kid.  I suppose that means he saw me as a kid, although Pete was getting up there in years so maybe a lot of people looked like kids to him.  The problem is, other than a few flashes, I don't remember the time before the cyber device.  The whole part of my life that I can remember has been me taking care of Pete, and taking care of the Haul-o-caster.  I don't remember ever being a child.  Did I play?  I don't remember playing.  

All this is to say, I was not prepared for how PO Smart, cheered on by Barns and Shelly, attacked the idea of getting the Old Pack Mule up and flying. 

"Captain!  OPM has a small personal shuttle in one of it's cargo bays!"  PO Small barged into my office, all excited.  Not so much the breach of  etiquette it sounds, since I keep my door open, but still a surprise.

"And?"  I knew the shuttle was there, in fact, it's new in the box.  It hadn't even been assembled yet.   Pete and I hoped that it would stay there until we had a chance to come back for it.  Pete wasn't the most physical of people, so moving it was out of the question.  It was much too big for the two of us, and assembling the shuttle, while possible, was a lot more work than Pete wanted to do.  

"With a little help, Chief W and I could have it up and running in a few hours."  PO Smart explained.  "We could use it to go exploring and maybe find some engines for the OPM."  The crew had taken to calling the Old Pack Mule "OPM" for short.  It was growing on me.  I even considered trying out "HOC" for the Haul-o-caster, but who would want to be in hoc?

"We're planning on leaving as soon as we get everything re-organized."   Moving all our stuff over from the Golden Screw had to be accomplished quickly, so everything was just tossed in willy-nilly.  I was having Cmdr. Barona get it organized so we had a better idea of what we had and where it was.  She, of course, was having the entire crew take shifts, so they could pull everything out and do a good solid cleaning while they were at it.  

"I'll do it in my off time Captain."  PO Smart promised, "I really think that even if we didn't manage to find engines for OPM, it might be advantageous to have a shuttle on board."

He had me there.

"OK, tell Commander Barona that I'm moving you off of spring cleaning and putting you in charge of shuttle building duty.  Get help when you need it.  Don't try to lift the heavy stuff by yourself."  I said.  You might think I just gave him the best present ever.  Maybe I did.  Cmdr. Barona was turning into a bit of a slave driver with the spring cleaning project.  All I asked for was a little organization.


Later that evening I walked out to see how the reorganization and cleaning was going, and...  Found nobody.  Apparently, PO Smart's enthusiasm was infectious.  I found the whole crew in the main cargo hold of the OPM, putting a second shuttle together.  These weren't standard shuttles either.  They looked a little bit like a cross between a fighter and a shuttle, all sleek and aerodynamic, but had colorful stripes like a show craft rather than a military craft, and there were no weapons.

"Captain!"  PO Smart said excitedly when he finally saw me.  "There were two of them, and I think they're designed for racing!"

Sure enough, now that the first crate was broken down and out of the way, I could see there had been a second crate behind it.  Since Pete and I could never move the first one, we didn't try too hard to look at what we couldn't get to.  

"Those look amazing crew."  I told everyone.  "I'm sure we'll be able to put them to good use."

"We're about to send the first one up on it's maiden flight.  Do you want to join us?"  Cmdr. Barona asked.  I could almost hear the "I hope not" in her voice, which tickled me a little.

"How many people can fit?"  I asked.  The shuttles were pretty small.

"Only three, maybe four if one of them curls up in the tiny cargo area behind the rear seat, but we weren't going to do that, they wouldn't be able to see anything anyway."  PO Smart answered.

"Very well,"  I said,  "I'm sure the people who did the work should get the first rides.  I can try one out later."


The test flights went off without a hiccup, although it became apparent that they were more than just test flights.  Lt. Cmdr. Dorn flew OPM-1, while Cmdr. Barona flew OPM-2.  Under the auspice of running "test flights", the crew were looking for something they could salvage engines for OPM off of.
Between flights, I asked why the shuttles were named for the Old Pack Mule rather than the Haul-o-caster, and after a little hemming and hawing, it finally came out that everyone was so excited they didn't think about it.  That was the first time I suspected that I was losing my crew.  It wasn't so much like they were abandoning me, or betraying me, it was more like even after all we've been though, I was still an outsider.  A non-Morganite.  When everything gets boiled down, that made every difference in the world.

A little later, I pulled Commander Barona aside.

"I would like to concentrate on getting the Old Pack Mule up and running."  I said.

"But Captain, you said before that there was no way to salvage her engines."  Cmdr. Barona replied.

"I may know where we can find some.  It isn't ideal, and we would have to install them and get out of town pretty quickly, but I think it's doable."

"Surely you aren't thinking about stealing them from someone!"

The surprise in Cmdr. Barona's voice made me laugh.

"Nothing like that."  I explained.  "When I was on Angmar VII before, there was a salvage yard near the settlement.  It's probably still there.  I'll take a shuttle and see if they have some suitable engines.  We have an entire tank of water to trade.  You would be amazed at how much water is worth here.  If they do, you can come pick them up with the Haul-o-caster.  Either way, be ready because we'll need to get out of dodge quick in case someone recognizes us."

"That sounds dangerous Captain,"  Barona said. "I should go rather than you."

"Would you be able to tell good engines from bad ones?  No?"  I said, then smiled.  "No worries, I'll take Dorn with me in case I need a little muscle.  It'll be fine.  If we don't find engines, rather than lead someone back to our hideout, we'll pick a rendezvous spot and you can come pick us up in Hauley."

"I'll inform the crew." Cmdr. Barona said, "We will be ready either way."


To my surprise, it didn't take long for Chief Williamson and PO Smart, helped by the rest of the crew, to get everything ready on the Old Pack Mule.  I ended up working on getting the reactors up and running.  The reactors on the Old Pack Mule used an older design, so neither the Chief nor PO Smart understood them.  I made sure to write documentation as I went so they would be able to maintain them.  

The flight to the salvage yard was quiet.  I could tell that Lt. Cmdr. Dorn, never a dynamic conversationalist anyway, was entertaining himself flying the shuttle.  I have to admit, those little things are pretty zoomey.  Soon we started seeing a small amount of traffic. 

The settlement on Angmar VII isn't what you would normally think of as a settlement.  The main part of the settlement revolves around one of the larger manufacturing clusters.  Off to one side, you can still see where mass driver that once launched large ship pieces into orbit was once located.  The mass driver itself is gone of course, so the place is more a hole in the ground than anything.  The main thoroughfare of the settlement is under ground where the central line that assembled those pieces was probably located.  On either side of that long tunnel, for lack of a better word, where all the factories, offices, and warehouses that provided support and parts for the line was located, is where everyone lived and worked. 

There was no government and no rules.  A person owned what they could defend and protect.  Normally a place like that would devolve into chaos, and either die off or end up being enslaved by whoever was the biggest or most violent.  Somehow, that didn't happen on Angmar VII.  My personal theory is that it's such a rathole that nobody wanted it.  The result is, if anyone wants to move in, they either had to move someone else out - typically using violence - or just find an empty spot and take it.  

Ships landed wherever they wanted.  There are numerous places to set a ship down, and it isn't like Angmar VII has any services to offer.  No water.  No reaction mass.  There really isn't a lot to recommend the place other than it being about as close to an Anarchist paradise as is possible.  

Of course, I know all this second hand.  When we were there, Pete never let me off the ship at the settlement itself.  I did, however, get to leave the ship in the salvage yard.  It was back before I had built up the impressive cache of spares, and we ended up needing a few things.  Pete, as always, was mostly useless for identifying components and testing them to make sure we weren't being ripped off, so he took me out for a stroll to look for stuff.

The salvage yard is located not far from the settlement, in another manufacturing cluster and basically consists of any ship that crashes on Angmar that the proprietor can find.  There was also a couple ships there that landed for maintenance, but the crew either didn't understand how to survive on Angmar, or didn't have the supplies to.  I hoped that we would find a couple engines for the Old Pack Mule from one of those ships.

Flying over in the shuttle, I could tell the salvage yard hadn't changed much since I saw it last.  There was definitely a couple new wrecks added to the collection over the years, and it looked like it was open for business.  Sadly, the engines I remembered them having were no longer there.  Thems the breaks I guess.  

Dorn and I were met by a the familiar, if older, fat guy who ran the yard when I was there with Pete.  He looked Dorn up and down and apparently decided that being belligerent wasn't a good idea.  Me, he ignored, but that was expected.  I wore my cloak with the hood up so he couldn't get a look at me.  

"What can I do you for?"  The salvage yard manager asked.

"Good morning sir, I am Lieutenant Commander Dorn.  We are looking for engines for a small frigate."

"Very good, we have engines that might work, nothing as fancy as a frigate, but they should limp you back home.  Show me what you have for trade!"  He said.

"We have water."  Lt. Cmdr. Dorn told him.

"On that pip-squeak of a shuttle?  Not enough for engines you don't."

"On our ship.  There is plenty enough."

"Oh, I doubt that.  You'll bring me the water, and maybe I won't let on that I saw the Morganite fugitives."

With that, I surprised Dorn by pulling out a blaster and shooting the man.

"Head towards the office, we'll clear it and make sure this one doesn't have any friends."  I ordered.

"Captain, I... you, you killed him!"

"Yep."  I pushed the man's arm with my tow revealing that he concealed a small blaster of his own.  "He was waiting for just the right chance.  Apparently, the bounty on us is dead or alive."

Dorn regained his composure quickly and grabbed a blaster rifle from the shuttle.  Then headed for the office.

"Keep on the lookout for boobytraps."  I warned him.  Good thing too, because the office was thick with them.  Rather than try to disarm them all, Dorn and I backed our way out.  The people on Angmar VII are clearly more paranoids than I expected.

"There still could be someone in there."  Lt. Cmdr. Dorn warned.

"With that smell?"  I asked, only half joking.  "We'll watch our backs while we look around for engines.  If there is anyone still in there, they are welcome to whatever is left.  We aren't here to rob the place."  The irony of that statement wasn't lost on me, but I am sure that guy really was watching us, or Dorn at least, for an opening.  As soon as Dorn was distracted, he would have made his move.

I didn't want to wait around to see if my sudden violence had bought us time or not.  So after pulling the body off to the side and hiding it under a piece of scrap metal.  Dorn and I carefully started working our way through the yard looking for what we needed.

It didn't take long to find what we were looking for.  We found a nice big pleasure cruiser that had seen better days.  Practically everything was stripped from it but the engines.  It may seem weird at first, but this isn't all that uncommon.  Engines for a ship of any reasonable size are big, bulky things. Pirates like to grab things that are small enough transport and easy enough to turn into credits.  You can't usually do that with engines.  On top of that, getting rid of these engines would have been especially hard because they were built to match the esthetic of the pleasure cruiser all sleek and white with gold accents.

"We'll paint them black and grey to match the Old Pack Mule.  You'll see, they'll be awesome." I told Lt. Cmdr. Dorn when I saw him grimace at the engines.

Once we had a good start on getting the Engines disconnected from the pleasure ship, we called Barona for our ride.  We wanted to keep the Haul-o-caster here at the salvage yard for as little time as possible.

The operation went of without a hitch.  Dorn and I were nearly done getting everything disconnected by the time Cmdr. Barona and Hauley showed up.  All that was left was to cut the supports that physically tied the engines to what was left of the ship.  Barona had Barns hover the Haul-o-caster close with the main cargo hold, cargo one, open, and PO Smart hopped over to help us put a harness on the first engine.  Once it was hooked up, the good Chief used cargo one's lifter to lift the engine right into the bay.  Rinse repeat and enjoy with the second engine.  

Lt. Cmdr. Dorn and I were soon in the shuttle following the Haul-o-caster back to home base.  Most of the crew had stayed with the Old Pack Mule getting everything prepped.  When we got there, I was amazed at how much work they got done.  They had even replaced parts of the hanger's crane system to help lift the engines into their new homes.  

The smooth, sleek engines from the pleasure ship looked out of place bolted to the sides of the old freighter.  Someone, I never found out who, managed to find the original serial number tag still riveted to a support beam in the bowels of the old ship.  The freighter was well over three hundred years old, and had been built by a shipyard I had never heard of.  It must have been refitted a few times since the fuselage was originally set, because the ships systems weren't anywhere close to that old.  Even then, a vast majority of those systems had to be replaced with components from my spares.

I was impressed that I had enough spare parts in my spare parts cache to practically build an entire ship, but I guess I shouldn't have been.  I will admit to a little bit of sadness to see them go.  It had taken me years to build up that collection.  Pete was a good man for humoring me.  Sure, most ships had backups for the few critical systems the ship couldn't do without, and maybe a few spare parts here and there.  But I didn't stop there, I had spares for every system on the ship, plus spares for the backups, and then a few extra spare parts, just in case.  Well, not anymore.  Now we had an Old Pack Mule.

I wasn't able to watch the whole time, so I had no idea what all they took.  As soon as I had time, I was going to do a comprehensive inventory.  I was itching to hit that salvage yard again to look for replacements, but I knew we couldn't do that.

Tuesday, September 14, 2021

Miami Pete 31

In case you are interested in reading this from the beginning:


Thanks for reading!


We burned hard towards the unstable jump point, just like that was our destination.  Since even the fastest ship in the fleet - the Lightning - didn't have a hope of catching us, we ended up running from nobody.  Nobody even tried to give chase. 

The turn, or big fat wide curve, since we had a lot of inertia built up, so it was harder to change directions, went off without a hitch and I didn't see any indication that anyone in Vanguard Fleet noticed.  That was crucial since the fleet was enough closer to the jump point we were heading for that if they noticed in time, it might just be possible to intercept us.

I spent a whole lot of days biting my nails and staring at passive sensor screens.  We didn't dare use active sensors, the fleet would definitely have picked up on that.  On the up side, at this distance and with running as silently as we could manage, unless someone in the fleet was a complete badass on passive sensors, they weren't watching us.  If they sparked up their active sensors, they would see us in a heartbeat, but we would know.  Active sensors are noisy because that's how they worked, and the Haul-o-caster had automated, always on systems designed to warn us if we were being hit by active sensors.  Yes, it gets really annoying when we are near a spaceport.  Everybody seems to think they need active sensors on full blast when they are in port.  The problem is, all those active sensors usually wash each other out, so they end up being less effective than a good passive system.  A good passive system will take advantage of all those stray signals.

We made Otford Station, or at least the former location of Otford Station in decent time for having a huge detour.  Sure enough, the Golden Screw was waiting for us as planned.  Sure, it could have been a trap, but it would have had to be a pretty elaborate one, and I didn't think it would be.  I will say that I was relieved to find out I was right.


The crew of the Golden Screw were wonderful people.  Being a medium freighter, the Golden Screw was quite a bit slower, so even with our detour they didn't beat us to the rendezvous by much.  Turns out, Cmdr. Barona recognized a few of their crew as cousins she played with when she was a child.  

I was surprised by the amount of supplies that the Golden Screw had for us.  We not only got all of my spare parts back, which I appreciated, we also got some upgraded equipment.  There was a high-end Morganite Fleet sensor suite.  Hauley's sensor suite wasn't all that bad, but the Morganite Fleet sensors were top notch.  There was also a belly gun, and a turret for topside.  Nothing like the huge blaster cannons on the Baskins, but big enough that we would have a fighting chance if we were attacked by something smaller, like the Lightning.   Hauley had a couple small guns, but nothing close to this powerful.  The best part was because the Haul-o-caster's main fuselage started life as a military transport, the new guns actually had a place where they could be mounted.  

Needless to say, Lt. Cmdr. Dorn was thrilled!

Along with the supplies was a nice big stash of credit chips.  I had never seen that many credits all in one place, it was more than our biggest haul had ever  brought in.  With it were instructions on crew pay and expenses and disbursements and petty cash and and and.

I finally just broke down and had Cmdr. Barona help me figure it all out.  I didn't just give it over to her, I'm still the Captain and this is my job.  It did hurt my pride a little to have to go running to Barona for one more thing.  I can admit that.

There was also a note from Admiral Thomas.  

    Captain Kid,

    A friend who is keeping an eye on things for me has warned me that there is more
    to the accusations against you and the Haul-o-caster crew.  They haven't been able
    to find the details about why, but Admiral Foster is pushing to have the Haul-o-caster
    and her crew "Brought to Justice" and there are rumors that he has sent ships out 
    looking for you.  I will keep abreast of the situation and get word to you as soon as 
    I know something.  Until then, keep your heads down and lie low.

    I sent some toys to help you in this regard.

     T

That sure was ominous.

We needed a place to set down or a docking bay at a station somewhere to mount our new toys.  Also known as weapons and sensors.  Cmdr. Barona started looking into the nearest station that offered docking bays, but I had to shoot that idea down.

"Commander Barona, we have prices on our heads.  I know the usual Morganite policy is to let people go if they are outside Morganite space, but you saw the letter from the Admiral.  We have to start thinking like Pirates."  I explained.  "But not acting like real Pirates.  We won't go attacking ships and stealing stuff or anything.  We just need to not go to the first place they'll look for us and tear our ship apart."

"I see your point Captain.  Do you have an alternative in mind?"

I'm sure it's somehow wrong, or a breach of military etiquette somehow to mess with your XO's mind, but I couldn't help it.  "Aahhrrrrrrr lass... We make sail for Treasure Island."


I guess I can't blame Barona for not knowing what I would consider Treasure Island.  Angmar VII is a barely habitable desert world in the ass end of nowhere.  Pete and I ferried some archeologists and their supplies to and from Angmar VII for a while.  It was a vaguely lucrative gig, and not too much work.  Because the archeologists paid us extra to stay on station in case they needed us, we had quite a bit of time to explore.  It's surprising how many ships get abandoned in such a place, and Angmar had no government or law enforcement, so salvage was a finders keepers kind of thing.  So Pete and I padded our vaguely lucrative pay with whatever salvage we could find.  Some of the spares in my cache come from Angmar VII.  Hence, Treasure Island.

I took a circuitous route to get us to the Angmar system, using jump points that aren't as well known or as commonly used.  A few times when we exited transit, we would shut down and pretend to be a hole in space, watching the jump point for a few days to see if anyone was following.  So far, nobody was.  

Since we still had two cargo bays converted for water hauling, we took a detour to at a little out-of-the-way planet I knew that had good fresh water springs.  You need to take a lot of water with you when you go to Angmar VII, because Angmar VII doesn't provide much if any on it's own.  Along the way, we also dipped into a few systems with un-used gas giants to drop a scoop and fill up on reaction mass the old-school way so that we could skip any of the commercial fueling stations.  It's a lot of hard work, and it takes a lot of time doing it that way, but we weren't trying to make any speed records, we were trying to stay off the radar.  It ended up taking us six months to get to Angmar VII, when a direct route would have taken less than a third of that time.

Cmdr. Barona wasn't trilled.

Once we finally reached Angmar VII, the search for a good spot to set down began.  Surprisingly, there is a small settlement on Angmar VII.  It's a brutal place full of  unhappy people.  It is said that if you live on Angmar, you are either running from something or chasing something.  We would avoid that place like the plague.  With any luck, nobody at the settlement would ever know we were on the planet. 

I made sure that Barns kept the planet between us and the settlement as much as possible as we approached.  I didn't want to chance having someone see us and identify the Haul-o-caster.  We were here for repairs and to upgrade sensors and mount weapons.  The work to make those modifications would mean taking large parts of the Haul-o-caster apart, replacing power conduits that had been dormant far longer than I had been on the ship, and then putting it all back together.  I brought us to Angmar because I hoped we would find an out of the way shipyard cluster to set down in where nobody would be able to find us while the ship was helpless.

In spite of years of archeologists scuffling through every square inch of every shipyard cluster they could reach, there really isn't much known about the people who built the facilities on Angmar VII.  It is accepted that the facilities were used to build warships, tenders, and freighters.  Possibly even shuttles, fighters, and troop transport ships.  Basically anything small enough that it could be launched from a planet's surface.  There were also a couple larger facilities that appear to have been used to build pieces of larger ships that were tossed into orbit using mass drivers to be assembled in orbit.

The shipyard clusters on Angmar VII come in a bunch of different sizes, but they are all similar in construction.  There is basically a large shaft dug down into the planet.  The bottom of the shaft served as landing facilities.  Dug into the sides of the shaft, are various warehouses, hangers, factories, and living quarters that you would need to sustain such an operation.  Unfortunately, whether the original builders took their things with them when they left, or some very thorough looters came and swept the place, nobody knows, but nothing, not even a bolt, nut, or screw was left behind.  The only way to identify the various places was by feel.  A hanger looks like a hanger.  A factory looks like a factory,   Living quarters looks like living quarters... or maybe they were offices?  You get the idea, even if they are empty some things just look like what they are.

Almost the entire surface of Angmar VII is pockmarked by these shipyard clusters.  There are hundreds of thousands of them, if not millions.  With so few people living on Angmar VII, we could have picked one at random and been reasonably sure we wouldn't run into anyone, but I had a particular cluster in mind.  On one of our exploration excursions, Pete and I found an old freighter parked in a hanger in a shipyard cluster.  It had the name Old Pack Mule painted on the side.  We almost missed the cluster  altogether because of how the surrounding rocks hid the entrance.  That was probably why Pete decided that this was the cluster to explore.

The Old Pack Mule wasn't a bad ship.  Pete and I talked about going back with parts and getting her up and flying again, dreaming of all the credits we would make selling a complete ship rather than just a bunch of parts, but life took us another direction and we never got back to it.


The shipyard cluster was exactly like Pete and I had left it.  The hanger doors still open, of course, because without whatever equipment the builders used it wasn't possible to close them.  The hanger was just big enough that Hauley fit in beside the old freighter.  That way, even if someone were to look down the shaft, they wouldn't see us.  I could tell the crew were all excited to get off the ship and do a little exploring.  Cmdr. Barona had other ideas and was about to crack the whip.

"Commander Barona.  I think we should sit quiet and watch for a bit before we start tearing the ship apart, just in case we were followed."  

"Yes Captain."  Was all she said.  I could tell she was frustrated by the delays and wanted to get the weapons and sensors mounted so we could start planning on getting back into the fight.  I guess I could understand.  After all, with everything that was going on, it's understandable that she would be worried about her people.


A few days of rest without having to worry too much did wonders for the crew.  There was talk of getting the Old Pack Mule up and running and using it to go back to see what was happening.  I was sad to have to shoot the idea down.  We just didn't have the parts with us to do that.  The Old Pack Mule also needed engines.  Everything else we could cobble together from spares on hand, the engines were another story entirely.  

After a few days of rest, it was all hands on deck.  Chief Williamson was in charge of installing the new sensor suite.  PO Smart and I teamed up on the weapons.  Everyone else was in the labor pool to be drawn by whichever team needed a hand.  The system worked surprisingly well.

I have to admit, it was odd seeing the Haul-o-caster broken down that far.  At one point, I could stand under the ship and look up and see all the way through to the ceiling of the hanger.  The sight gave me chills.  

Surprisingly, the Chief was done first.

"The new sensor suite is newer enough than the old system that it's power requirements were far less.  Lt. Tine and I didn't have to upgrade the power conduit at all, and we were able to use the cabling from the old sensors to pull the cabling for the new sensors through, so we didn't have to remove whole sections of the ship."  The Chief reported.

PO Smart and I weren't so lucky.  The new weapons systems clearly used a lot more power than the old systems did, so we had to completely rebuild the power delivery from scratch.  The weapons control system was likewise different, so all that had to be rewired from scratch also.   Once the job was done though, it was a thing of beauty.

The infectious grin on Lt. Cmdr. Dorn's face was worth all the work.  Well, that and the fact that next time that smarmy Captain Stinkypants Tarkin shot at my ship, I was going to kick his ass.

Friday, September 10, 2021

Miami Pete 30

In case you are interested in reading this from the beginning:


Thanks for reading!


The old saying goes, just because you are paranoid doesn't mean they aren't out to get you.  I felt every square inch of that old saw.  Haul-o-caster  was docked with the Bait and Tackle, and the supplies we received from the stash were all offloaded.  Haul-o-caster's stuff, my stuff, all my spares and supplies were supposed to have been loaded.

But they weren't.

Those Destroyers that were supposed to be there to "Cover me" were starting to feel like they weren't covering my back so much as holding a gun to my head, keeping me from escaping.  Not that they needed to be.  Haul-o-caster was docked using the starboard cargo docking collars.  Those are much bigger, and more secure than the nose docking collar.  Being a cargo docking collar, it does not have a tear-away like the nose collar does.  Tearing away from a dock with one of those would be likely to destroy half the ship.

So I was stuck.  Since the Admiral had to be controlling at least some of this directly, complaining to him wouldn't get me anywhere.  Dumb old Captain Kid, caught by her own trust in...  In what?  Miami Pete's friends?  How did I really even know that the Admiral had ever met Miami Pete?  For that matter, how do I know anything about my own crew?  Is Cmdr. Barona a friend?  Lt. Tine?

I pulled the small hand blaster out of Pete's desk and hid it in my pocket, glad that the pockets on these uniforms were big enough to handle it.  This was the blaster that Pete usually took with him when he thought he might have the need of some discreet violence.  I still remember Pete taking the time to teach me how to use it, how to fire it.  I sat in my quarters with the door shut and locked waiting for some inspiration, or perhaps waiting for the end.

I couldn't help but thinking that I really messed this up this time.


"Captain, Admiral Thomas on a secure channel for you."  Came Shelly's voice from the speaker in my quarters.

"Thanks Shelly, I'll take it in my quarters."  I told her.  

"Well Admiral, I'm feeling a little claustrophobic here, and I'm starting to wonder where my stuff is.  I bring supplies, you give me my stuff back, that was the deal.  I kept my side of the deal.  Nobody is filling my holds with my stuff, which isn't filling me with confidence that you are keeping your side of the deal."

"I'm working on it."  The Admiral replied, "Turns out, Captain Tarkin has connections that I was unprepared for.  Your cargo is being loaded onto the Golden Screw.  It's a freighter that caught up with Vanguard Fleet yesterday.  It is run by a Morganite family that are distant relatives of mine, so I assure you that you can trust them.  I'm sending you a flight plan to rendezvous with them after your escape."

"So, do I leave the crew with the Golden Screw, or do I leave them on the Bait and Tackle?" 

"Take them with you if they want to stay on the Haul-o-caster.  Any that want to risk staying with the Fleet, leave them on the Bait and Tackle."  The Admiral said. "Tarkin's connections are with the Board of Discipline, but somehow Admiral Foster is involved too.  You and your crew all have arrest warrants and bounties on your heads.  They can stay and face trial if they want and I'll do my best to help them.  The bastards have issued a warrant for me too, but my family has enough clout that there is no way it'll stick.  I wish I could extend that protection to you and your crew, but other than Commander Barona who is covered because she is my niece, the family's name won't help them.  Legal support is all we can offer."  


The plan was a simple one, because simple works best.  The Captain of the Bait and Tackle would take care of  secretly loading Hauley's cargo onto the Golden Screw.  He still credits the Haul-o-caster with saving his ship and his life, and is happy to be able to return the favor.  The Golden Screw takes off heading back towards the jump point towards the former location of Otford Station, as if they were heading for Morgan space.  

While all the commotion is going on, one of Bait and Tackle's crew releases the docking clamps to the Haul-o-caster, and as soon as we get the signal, we run like hell.  The Bait and Tackle already had us fueled and our water tanks full.  The crew was probably going to be down to ration bars soon, but that was fine with me.  As soon as we met up with the Golden Screw, we would be resupplied.

I pulled the crew together and gave them the bad news.  

"It won't be the first time I've been on the run." Said Lt. Tine.  "It's not so bad once you get used to it."

Shelly sniffed, she had tears rolling down her face.  How is it fair for someone so beautiful to get even more beautiful when she cries.  "I'm... my mom, what will she think?"

"Aw Shells," Barns put an arm around her to comfort her,  "We'll figure out how to get a letter to your mum explaining everything.  She'll understand."  It was almost a comical picture.  The tiny, fine-boned, Barns struggling to comfort the tall, shapely, Shelly almost twice her size. "Besides, it'll be exciting!  I'm in!"

"I'm staying with the Haul-o-caster if it's all the same to you Captain."  Cmdr. Barona said, "I know my family would go out of their way to protect me.  Hell, they would probably enjoy poking the BoD in the eye, belligerency tends to run in my family, but for that to happen I would have to return to Morganite space and never leave the family estates.  It would be so boring.  Besides, there is no way I'm leaving you guys in a lurch.  I love you guys."

"I got nowhere to go."  Lt. Cmdr. Dorn added in turn.  "I was just an orphan street rat, surviving as best as I could before I joined the fleet.  I never fit in very well.  The Admiral noticed that I was struggling and offered me this job.  For the first time in my life, I feel like I really belong somewhere.  I'm staying!"

Then the Chief took his turn.  "I'll answer for PO Smart and myself."  He looked over at the Petty Officer, "If that's Ok."

PO Smart nodded.

"The Petty Officer and I are staying."  Chief Williamson continued.  "Neither one of us was comfortable with all the rules and regulations in the Fleet.  An engineer shouldn't have to file an engineering plan and have it signed off on by both Fleet Engineering and the Captain before doing simple maintenance.  We were both turned down when we requested Outside work because competent engineers are in such high demand in the Fleet.  When Admiral Thomas gave us this opportunity, we jumped at it, and neither one of us regrets it.  Oh, and Captain, using sleeping bags and bungee cords to get through a rough jump like that, that was genius!"

I looked around at my crew.  I hadn't expected any of them to stay.  Sure, they were all facing problems at home, but staying with me was like turning their backs on their own people.  There was no guarantee that they would ever be able to go home.  The bounties are also a big unknown.  Morganites aren't known for putting bounties on people. 

"I have never heard of Morganites putting bounties on people.  I have heard of a Morganite expat who could never go back to Morgan space because of a warrant, but even he didn't have a bounty that I know of."  I asked.

"It is not unknown," Lt. Tine replied. "but it is usually only extends to the borders of Morgan space.  To the Morganite people, once someone is outside Morganite space, they no longer matter.  An arrest warrant would surely stay active indefinitely in case any of us tried to return, but they normally wouldn't bother sending Morganite bounty hunters outside Morgan space, and it would be illegal to contract with non-Morganite bounty hunters.  Even a few ships of my former sect managed to escape Morgan space without being pursued, and the hatred for the Scientists is still prevalent in the church, Fleet, and the secular government."

"I didn't know some of you escaped."  Shelly said excitedly.

"Now that you know, do you plan on contacting your family so they can resurrect the Grand Sport?"  Lt. Tine asked calmly.  

Shelly seemed shaken.  "The Grand Sport ended before I was born."

"I was there."  Lt. Tine said.  It sounded like mere statement of fact, yet the effect it had on Shelly was terrible.

"Why do you think I'm here?  I'm not escaping Morganism, I'm escaping my family." Shelly was practically in tears.  "You know they still sit around talking about the old days, rehashing old battles, arguing over scores?  Even me.  My favorite book growing up was a Grand Sport ship specification picture book.  When the truth came out, I didn't believe it, so I found a way to get a copy of the evidence.  Even then I thought the evidence was doctored, until a cousin of mine pointed out that we had a copy in our family databanks.  The evidence was in our family databanks the whole time.  You know what I found?  The official evidence was edited after all.  The part that was cut out was my family celebrating.  My family, some of them I grew up with and saw on our family ship every day, were there.  They took part in the slaughter of the survivors."

The whole ship went silent.  Everyone was shocked by the revelation.

"There were other survivors?"  Lt. Tine asked quietly, even gently.

"A few."  Shelly buried her face in her hands. "Someone aboard the Mad Courser discovered a way of locating the life pods.  The survivors were shared out to the five ships that were there.  As far as I know, they were all killed."
  
"There were five ships?"  Lt. Tine asked.  "I always believed there were only three."

"There were five.  I don't remember the names of the other ships.  The Mad Courser was my family's ship.  Two ships were edited out of the official evidence."  Shelly answered  "I tried to send copies of what I found to the authorities, but nobody would listen.  When my family found out, they deleted the files and confined me to my quarters on the Mad Courser.  It took months, but I was finally able to sneak off the ship while she was docked at a spaceport.  Having no other place to go, I joined the Fleet and passed the Comm Officer test.   I met Admiral Thomas in an elevator and he asked me why I joined the Fleet.  I guess he liked my answer because I was asked to join the crew of the  Haul-o-caster.  You have to believe me Lt. Tine, I had nothing to do with what happened to your people.  I wasn't even born yet.  I am so ashamed of what my people did."

"Very well."  Lt. Tine said.  "Let it be known that I do not hold Shelly in any way responsible for the actions of her family, and I consider her a friend.  Shelly, if you feel you still require forgiveness from me.  I freely offer it."

Lt. Tines word seemed to have a dramatic effect upon Shelly. 

"Well, huh."  She said, "I was brought up to believe that your people were unfeeling monsters.  It seems that I can still be surprised by how wrong my family is."

"Well, that's taken care of."  Cmdr. Barona said, "Sorry to intrude on such a moment, but I think that either our signal to start the big escape is happening, or we're in serious trouble."

I looked at the screens and indeed Cmdr. Barona was right.  There were explosions on the destroyers that had been covering us.

BOOM!

"That would be the docking clamps to the Bait and Tackle."  Cmdr. Barona said.  "I didn't realize they were going to blow them though.  Battle Stations!"

"They probably wanted to give Bait and Tackle a way of denying that they were directly involved with letting us go."  Lt. Cmdr. Dorn answered as he set us to condition one.

I used all the commotion as an excuse to break out my favorite fake Pirate talk.

"Avast ye planet lubbers, toss the bow line, cut the stern line!  Shove us into the depths of dark briny space!"

"What?"  Yelled Barns from the helm.

"Get us out of here Barns!"  Cmdr. Barona helpfully translated.

BOOM BOOM BOOM!

"We are taking fire from the Lightning Captain."  Lt. Cmdr. Dorn announced.

"If we were the traitors and scallywags the liars made us out to be, we would return fire."  I said, Pirate talk forgotten.  "But we are not.  It's up to you Barns, punch it.  Get us out of here."

"Yes Captain!"  Barns said as she pushed the throttle up past eighty percent.  

We shot off like a scalded puppy, barely missing a couple ships as we passed.  At first, I thought Barns was being careless, then I noticed how hard she was concentrating, and how much trouble the Lightning was having following us.  She was trying to scrape the Lightning off of our tail, and it was working.

Finally, as we flipped around the Baskins I saw the retro-engines on the Lightning fire up.  Barns had used Hauley's tighter turning radius to trick the Lightning's helmsperson into boxing themselves in.  The Lightning barely missed ramming right into another ship.  As it was, they would need maneuver time to get turned and had lost all of their momentum.  Moments later, we broke out of the fleet formation into open space.  We were free.

"Is anyone else chasing us?"  Barns asked excitedly.

"I see no further pursuit."  Lt. Tine said.

"Agreed Captain, I don't see anyone else chasing us."  Lt. Cmdr. Dorn agreed.

Barns dropped us down to the sweet spot that she had discovered.  She had us pointing towards the unstable jump point.

"Where are we headed Barns?"  I asked, wondering if she had a plan.  We hadn't discussed a plan for after the escape other than to meet up with the Golden Screw where Otford Station used to be.  I didn't know of a quick way to get there from the unstable jump point.  Did Barns know something I didn't?

"Your Pirate talk got me thinking Captain.  How would a Pirate escape?   By going somewhere his pursuers couldn't or wouldn't go.  That's what Evil Pirate Jack would always do in the vids.  He would head for a quazar or something."  Barns explained.

"Barns!  You know those are all just vid movies right?  They are written and filmed by people who have never been to space.  You can't fly through a quazar in real life!"  Shelly said.

"I know that," I could hear from her voice that she was rolling her eyes, "BUT a vast majority of the  Morganites in the fleet will also have seen those vids.  So they won't question that we're heading for what might as well be the real-life equivalent.  The best way to lie is to tell people what they already know.  They are going to believe that's where we are heading.  They know there is no chance of catching us.  They know how much damage the Lightning took on that transit, and how little damage Haul-o-caster took.  Would you be dumb enough to follow us?"

"Barns, how are we going to get our supplies if we transit there?  The Golden Screw won't wait around forever."  I asked.

"Simple, we don't.  We wait till the range is far enough and we change course and head for the transit to Otford Station."  I was impressed.  Barns came up with a pretty decent plan.  Not foolproof or anything, but better than I could think of at the moment.

"Very well Barns, make it so."





Tuesday, September 7, 2021

Miami Pete 29

In case you are interested in reading this from the beginning:


Thanks for reading!


Space, it's big man.  And people are tiny.  And hungry.  And thirsty.

Food and water runs are something the Haul-o-caster has done a lot of.  Various settlements on various planets with varying ability to support human life, and you get people begging for food.

Pete both loved and hated food and water runs.

He loved them because they made him feel like he was doing something good.  Saving lives.  Deep down, Pete longed to be a good person, a hero.

He hated them because people suck.  Actually getting paid for a food and water run ran less than 50%.  People would promise the moon, because without food and water they were going to die, but when the skids met the tarmac, we were just as likely to see the barrel of a gun as we were payment promised.

For Pete, a gun was preferable to pathetic begging.  Way too often, we would set down only to find out the settlers had nothing to pay us with.  They were just desperate people, hoping that once we were there they could figure out something to give us, or that we would drop off the load out of our hearts.  Often they would line up the scrawny, starving children to yank on our heartstrings.  That would make Pete so mad.  He would rant about how irresponsible people would risk everything to settle on a planet without even finding out if it would sustain life or not.

We finally stopped doing food and water runs when we showed up in time to watch another hauler drop kinetic weapons on a settlement.  We were never able to find out what happened.  Either the settlers couldn't pay what they promised, or they tried to take the load by force.  We do know the settlers double-booked on the order so that might be part of it.  It doesn't matter though, kinetic weapons can really do a number on a small settlement, and this far out on the rim, there is no justice.  No police.  When the other ship was done, there wasn't anyone left to deliver the load to.

All of that is to explain why the Haul-o-caster is no longer set up to do food and water runs.  We had to dock with the Bait and tackle for a day and a half to get water tanks fitted into cargo bays three and four.  Shelly was on cloud nine.  We, or at least I, caught her and that boyfriend of hers fooling around in some of the weirdest places.  The funny part was, I was sneaking off to some hiding spot to get some alone time only to run into the two of them doing... well, you can imagine what they were doing.  Finally in self defense, I dragged the two of them off to a reliable hiding spot, basically the maintenance access to the front landing skid, and fitted a locking mechanism on the hatch so nobody would have to accidentally trip over them while they were... you know.   The other advantage of that spot was that it was insulated somewhat well.  Better than one of the places they found that had them, unknowingly, right next to a central vent, piping their... sounds... throughout the entire ship.

Let me tell you, Cmdr. Barona was furious.

I ran interference for them as much as I could, but really, discipline is the XO's job, so I could only do so much.  Once I found them the perfect place to hide, everything got better.


The food and water run was almost fun.  It started out all stern and down to business.  "Haul-o-caster, set course to 193 point 239 point 6 and your speed to...  what ever, booorrriinnnggg.  Challenging the Lightning to a race was met with contempt, and I was told in no uncertain terms to follow orders and try not to stress my engines too hard.  SO, I let Barns handle it.  She was at the helm anyway.  But...  every so often, I wandered by and poked the speed up.  Just a tick.  And when Captain Sourpuss called on the comm to see why we sped up, I acted like I had no idea what he was talking about and suggested maybe that he had slowed down.  

It worked.  Not at first though.  Captain Sourpuss just got all grumpy, so I bumped the speed up one more tick.  This went on for a while with me increasing speed by a little, and him calling and complaining and getting frustrated, then giving up and matching our speed.  Until I finally pushed too far and the comm message consisted of "OH, Now it's ON!"  and off we went.  My order to Barns was precisely "Do not let Captain Sourpuss beat us."  I think I shocked everyone by calling him that.

Once you get past a certain speed you reach a spot where even a small increase in speed, requires an inordinate amount of fuel.  Most ships never run past that point unless they are being chased by pirates or something equally as horrible.  On some ships, the top speed is artificially set so they can't go past that point.  The ship that the Haul-o-caster got it's engines from, being a monstrosity of a ship, was one of those kinds of ships.  Long before I came aboard, some enterprising "engineer" hacked the heck out of the engine management system and really messed things up.  It fell on me, of course, to fix it.  To do so, I had to go as far as reconfiguring some of the engine internals.  Once that was done, I had to build a custom engine management system from scratch because there was nothing I could find that was even remotely like Hauley's new configuration.  I'm still not completely happy with it, there are a couple flow regulators that don't quite have the flow characteristics that Hauley's setup need, and there are a few lines in the fuel system that induce cavitation where it isn't ideal, but it's serviceable.  On the other hand,  the Lightning is a well integrated, well designed ship.  It has state of the art engines with state of the art engine management systems, all designed specifically to work together with perfect symmetry.

BUT... the Haul-o-caster does have some big honkin engines. 

Eventually we received a call from Captain Sourpuss.

"Lightning Actual on the comm Captain!"  Announced Shelly.  We weren't at condition anything, but for some reason practically the entire crew found excuses to congregate on the bridge to watch the show.

"On the big screen Shelly."  I told her.

Up popped the image of  one Captain Tarkin, Sourpuss on the big screen.  "Can I help you Captain?"  I asked, all sweet like.

He couldn't help himself.  His grimace of disapproval fell into a smile.  "All right Haul-o-caster, you got us.  We have to slow down or we won't have enough fuel reserves to make the Transition Point, let alone through it and all the way to the supply cache."

"Barns, are we pushing our engines?" I said with feigned shock.  "I didn't even notice." 

"No Captain, we're only running at around seventy percent."  Barns replied.  I peeked.  She wasn't even fibbing.  We really could go faster, although not for long before being in the same low-fuel boat that the Lightning was in.  Hauley's engines have been modified to be as efficient as I could make them, but not even Hauley could go that fast for long.  As it was, I was pretty impressed.  Usually, Pete and I wouldn't have dared to push Hauley to this speed for long because of a harmonic in one of the engines that I was never able to fix.  The equipment to find and repair that sort of thing is expensive and hard to get ahold of this far out on the edge.  Apparently, that harmonic was now gone.  I silently raised a mental toast to the guys who rebuilt Hauley's engines.  Sadly, those guys were on Otford station, and I probably would never have the chance to toast them in person.

"Take us back down to fifty percent, and then match whatever pace Captain Tarkin sets." 

"Lightning out."  Said Captain Tarking with an exasperated chuckle.

"You know, I don't think he believes we were just at seventy percent."  Barns said, and the bridge erupted in cheers and laughter.


We were shocked by what we found at the jump point.  Two of the largest 'rus ships I had ever seen were stationed on either side of the point.  'rus ships don't usually sit anywhere.  I have always imagined the 'rus to be very jittery, like someone who drank a few whole pots of coffee.  Their ships were generally always moving.  Not so these two behemoths.  Individually, neither of them was as big as the Baskins, but when most 'rus ships aren't much bigger than a Destroyer, with a rare few being as big as a Cruiser, these were unprecedented.

"I've heard rumors about these,"  Said Barns.  "but I never believed them."

"Set condition one Mr. Dorn." ordered Cmdr. Barona.

"Belay that."  I ordered quickly.  "Get me Lightning."

A few seconds later, Captain Tarkin was on my screen.

"Captain, Commander Barona suggested going to condition one, but I think we should play this more casual than that."  I said.

"What do you have in mind?"  Captain Tarkin asked.  It probably shows how un-nerved Captain Tarkin was by the looming presence of the two 'rus ships that he asked for my advice.

"It has been my experience that 'rus ships tend to ignore any ship that isn't threatening it.  Condition one would automatically power up shields and weapons.  If the 'rus notices, they might attack."  I said.

"Very well, I will have to bow to your greater experience on these matter.  We will not go to condition one, or two.  Do you have any ideas on how to get through the transition point?"  

"Best I can come up with is to ignore them."

Strangely enough, it worked.  The Two gigantic 'rus ships just sat there with no indication that they were anything more than derelicts.  We scanned them with passive scanners and got nothing, but that wasn't surprising, that was normal for 'rus ships.  I didn't want to risk trying an active scan.  I've heard that the 'rus doesn't like when you do that.

I pulled up the jump point stats on my screen.  I noticed from the date on the entry that the info I had on this one was a few years stale.  That couldn't be helped at this point.  The data said this jump point trip should take thirty six seconds, and that it was mildly bumpy the entire way.  Nothing too out of the ordinary there.  

The trip time was right on.  The description was way off.  I've been through literally thousands of jumps.  Maybe tens of thousands.  I almost always peek at the jump point stats before hand.  They usually accurate on time, but as for the description it's subjective.  What one person feels as a loop-dee-loop, or a wheeee - yes I have seen them described like that and much worse - another person might describe it differently.  In the case of this jump "mildly bumpy" was absolutely false.  This one was a meat grinder.  When we were spit out the other side - precisely thirty six seconds later - the board was red.  All red.  Not a green light to be seen.  

Comms down.  Engines down.  Life support.  Even artificial grav was down, which meant the gravitonic shields were down, which meant if this part of space had much in the way of radiation, we were getting it.

"Damage control!"  Cmdr. Barona announced loudly.

"I'll be working on getting power up."  I said.

"Captain, that's not your job."  Cmdr. Barona said.

"Stuff it Barona.  We need every hand doing what they do best. You stay here and coordinate, nobody knows Hauley like I do."

First was the reactor.  The reaction chamber was down hard, but the control system was easy to bring back up by resetting breakers and rebooting.  Looking through the logs, it became clear that the Haul-o-caster had been hit with a pretty serious energy spike.  I heard of such a thing, but had never experienced it first hand.  A quick diagnostic, and I sent PO Smart up to my cabin for the crate of relays that I stashed there before they cleared out our holds to make space for supplies.  I tried to argue that my spares should stay on my ship, but the Admiral overruled me.  

Unfortunately needing spares and knowing they were lightyears away in spite of what I wanted had me in a pretty foul mood.

Luckily we had enough to get the reactor back online.  Then we started working on getting power out to the rest of the ship.  Nearly all the breakers on the ship were tripped, and a good number of the power relays were crispy.  I had some spares, but nowhere near enough.  

"Get the dang comms up first, we need to find out if the Lightning made it and what her status is."  I yelled.  Chief Williamson and PO Smart really knew their stuff.  They couldn't come close to keeping up with me, but I had to remind myself that they really hadn't been aboard Hauley all that long, and I practically rebuilt every single part of her over the years.  I felt bad for yelling at them, but they managed.

PO Smart insisted on doing the dirty work, crawling in the crawlspaces, pulling out bad parts and installing good ones.   Chief Williamson worked in the shop pulling things apart and repairing what could be repaired.  I bounced back and forth between them, being a knowledge resource for both and handling the really tricky stuff.  Some of which Chief Williamson didn't even think were possible.  Getting my hands dirty and fixing stuff let me work out my anger so that I could calm down.

We got the comm system up, but Shelly wasn't able to raise the Lightning.  So next, I worked on sensors.  Like I always say, "Space, it's big man"  I know you might think we could just look out a window and see the Lightning, but it doesn't really work that way.  I mean, we did try, just in case she was close enough, but the reality is she probably wasn't going to be all that close.  

Next I figured we needed eyes, but because power relays were at a premium, instead of routing power to the sensors via a mainline power relay, I tapped off the comms system.  It wasn't like we were going to try to crank up the comms system enough to talk to the other end of the galaxy, and we weren't going full active on the sensors.  It gave us enough that we could use passive and low-energy near space sensors.  They would have to be good enough.

Life support and artificial grav were next.  While it is fun to float around the ship like a ninny, it isn't conducive to getting work done.  Besides, artificial grav and the gravitonic shields were basically one system, and only a fool runs around without gravitonic shielding.  Radiation can be a bitch.

The engine power system is pretty robust, it has to be with how big Hauley's engines are, so getting propulsion was relatively easy.  Once the reactor was back up, it was just resetting the big honkin relays and wha-la!  Propultion!

"Captain, Lightning Actual on the comm for you."  Shelly announced over the address system.

"I'll take it in my quarters!"  I said.  Since I was near there and knew the workstation there worked.


"Haul-o-caster, this is Lightning Actual, can you read me?"  The voice was barely recognizable as Captain Tarkin.

"Go ahead Captain, this is Haul-o-caster Actual.  What is you condition?"  I asked.

"Everything is down.  We're dead in the water."  He said, "Crew has taken to the lifeboats for life support.  I'm talking to you from the radio in one of the lifeboats.  What is your condition?"

"Haul-o-caster is mostly back in business.  We have a lot of blown relays, so we're having to jury rig power in places, but life support, comms, gravitonic shielding, and propulsion are all up.  We don't have the parts to get sensors all the way up though.  This would have been a walk in the park if my collection of spare components weren't left on the Bait and Tackle."

"The mission comes first.  You should probably leave us behind and carry on with the mission, the fleet will be hurting for those supplies by the time you return."  Captain Tarkin didn't sound like himself, he sounded like he was giving up.  It kinda made me mad.

"Don't you be a quitter Captain.  This mission ain't done yet, and you ain't done yet."  I yelled at him.  "So pull it together Sourpuss.  What kind of crew complement do you have?  I bet the Haul-o-caster has enough life support for both crews, and since we don't have to hit another jump point between us and this supply stash, we can dock with Lightning, add a few supports and get both ships there.  I'm hoping this stash of yours has a nice fat cache of spare parts."

"It should have everything we need."

Yes, one ship can pretty much tow another ship through space.  It isn't as simple as just hooking up and going, but it isn't really all that bad.  The Haul-o-caster has answered a few distress calls over the years, so I know that Hauley can handle towing around ships much larger than the Lightning.  It helps to have big honkin engines.

"Good, we'll figure out where you are and see about getting hooked up.  Once you are aboard, we can toast to our fortune that we survived.  Haul-o-caster out."

By the time I reached the bridge, Lt Tine had already located the Lightning and he and Barns had course laid in and plans for how to maneuver us into position to dock.  All I had to do was take a peek to make sure they got the math right, and say "Go".

An hour later, I greeted Captain Tarkin at the airlock.  We used the belly airlock.  Lt. Tine and Barns thought it would be easier to use the nose airlock, but I overruled them.  With the way Hauley's gravitonic shielding is designed and installed, with a little tweaking we were able to extend our shielding around the Lightning.  That way, the Lightning's crew could continue with their repair efforts while we were in route without having to worry about radiation.  Radiation in space doesn't really sound like that big a deal, especially in a world that includes such inventions as the autodoc.  I should know, I soaked up enough rads to make a moon glow, but the autodoc still managed to fix me up. 

"Captain Tarkin, welcome aboard."  

"Captain Kid, on behalf of myself and my crew.  Thank you."  

"We'll get the attachment point stiffened in the next hour, and then we should be ready to go."  I replied.

The Crew of the Lightning set up in cargo bay two, soon having it look just like a barracks.  Cmdr. Barona insisted on giving up her quarters for the use of Captain Tarkin, and moving into our crew barracks.  She said she didn't mind, but I'm sure it had Barns and Shelly walking on eggshells for a few days.

The Lightning had the same problems that the Haul-o-caster had.  Tripped Breakers and blown relays, as well as a few destroyed components.  My tech crew and Lightning's tech crew put their heads together and started pulling everything that was bad, while making an efficient plan so that as soon as spares became available, Lightning would be back up as quickly as possible.

All this time, I was a little confused about this stash.  How do we even know it'll be there when we get there.  Frankly, anything that's left in space, even if you tie it down, is bound to walk off as soon as your back is turned.  Turns out I was wrong though.  The stash wasn't so much a bunch of useful stuff left floating in space.  It was more like a space station.  Complete with space station crew, repair facilities, a couple farming domes to provide food.  I let Captain Tarkin make the initial introductions and line things up.  Soon we had Lightning placed in a repair bay, and docked Hauley to an external airlock.  We probably could have done with a repair bay, but really, all we needed were parts and we would be fine.

Repairs took a few days, but we were soon back in fighting shape.  The Lightning took a little longer, but not much.  Another day and both ships were loaded to the gills with the supplies needed by the fleet.  

The stash station, on the other hand, tried to be more Morganite than the Morganites.  I had been looking forward to stretching my legs and letting my crew stretch theirs too, but nope, we weren't allowed off the ship.  The water was first rate, it always pays to check water quality at a new station that you hadn't docked at before.  The food stuffs were incredible.  Nothing alcoholic or caffeinated was offered though, which was a surprise.  No stimulants at all really.  I asked Barona what the deal was and she was as shocked as I was.  Yea, the Morganites frown upon drunkenness, but even Morgan home world doesn't ban alcohol, and the fleet is practically fueled on coffee, tee, and other caffeinated beverages.  Mother Ahmisa was finally able to give me an answer, insisting it was "off the books".  Apparently, just like outside work is used as a release valve for those who feel too constrained by Morgan laws, they also have various settlement projects available to the more devout branches of Morganism.  This station was one of those.  These people lived their beliefs without any outside interference.  They are financed through the Morganite government.  The only requirement is that they run this stash station and provide supplies, repairs, and help to Morganites who are outside.  

The Lightning even took on a small Outside Captain and crew who had managed to limp their ship here, only to find it was too far gone to repair, so they were stranded for the last year and a half.  The station was more than happy to get rid of the Outsiders.


"So Captain Tarkin, have you thought of how we're going to rejoin the fleet without killing ourselves by going through that jump point again?"  I asked.

"No, we might just have to chance it."  He said.  I could tell he didn't like the idea.

"Well, Lt. Tine and I have put our heads together and come up with an alternate route."  I said.

"I've looked, there is no alternate route that won't take us months, if not years out of our way."

"Perhaps on your charts there isn't, but the Haul-o-caster has been around the block a few times." I said, then whispered dramatically.  "We know a few jump points that aren't exactly on the usual charts."  

Jump points vary in quality and strength.  When a jump point is weak, it is not only harder to detect, it is also harder to navigate without losing the jump stream.  They also tend to take longer to transit.  Not always, but usually.  If a ship loses a jump stream mid-jump, there is no telling where they might end up.  It's not like they get lost in jump space or anything, those are just old spacers tales.  Their ship just gets booted out somewhere along the stream.  That doesn't always mean somewhere along the linear path between jump point and destination either.  A ship that loses it's stream could end up practically anywhere.

A jump point that is unstable, or less-stable is also a possibility.  Some of them are downright dangerous and can crush a ship, others provide a rougher ride than most ships are able or willing to put up with.  Some are obvious, because the entry point hops around a bit in space.  Not far or anything, just a few thousand kilometers this way or that.  Unpredictable, but not impossible to transit.  Others appear deceptively stable, until you get into them.  Regardless, how the entry point behaves has no correlation to how rough the transit will be.  Unstable jumps are always rough, just not always dangerously so. 

These weak and unstable jump points are usually only used by the desperate, and the seedier side of society.  Criminals, pirates, malcontents, runaway indents.  Pete and I took advantage of them from time to time in order to make time and finish runs more quickly.  The jump point maps you trade for on a space station will have every jump point the space station knows about, but most ship nav systems won't show the weak or unstable ones unless you enable them.

Lt. Tine and I found a route back that would only add an extra week to our journey, and require three jumps instead of two, but Lt. Tine didn't like it one bit because one of those jumps was weaker than Morganite Fleet policy allowed, and the other one was listed as dangerously unstable.  I argued, pointing out that weak points were usually far more dangerous for larger ships.  Our ships were small, so we should be fine.  What I didn't tell him is that Pete and I took the Haul-o-caster through the unstable jump point a few times.  It was one of the ones we set the course, then turned off artificial grav and rode out the entire ten minute jump in sleeping bags suspended on all for corners by bungee cords.  

I made sure to requisition enough sleeping bags and bungee cords for the whole crew from the stash, to be delivered to the airlock instead of the cargo bay.  When the order came in, Cmdr. Barona asked about them  I just said "you'll see" with a wink and a smile.  I think I might have overdone it a bit because the look on Cmdr. Barona's face suggested she was looking at a crazy person.

Once repairs were completed, we were on our way.

The trip to the first jump point only took a few days.  I used the time to have Chief Williamson and PO Smart add hookups for the crew's sleeping bag/bungee cord arrangement.  I didn't let on what they were for, just gave the spec I wanted and said to get to it.  With a smile, of course.

That first transit was as easy as I expected.  Neither the Haul-o-cast nor the Lightning had any problem following the weak jump.

The trip to the second jump point took us across a previously uninhabited system.  It sure wasn't uninhabited now.  The new owners demanded tribute for using their system.  They weren't on any major trade route or anything having only a weak jump point on one side, and a normal jump point on the other side.  Even if it were possible to strengthen the weak point, this system wouldn't see all that much more traffic.  It's jump points didn't go anywhere of any consequence.

Captain Tarkin paid the tribute anyway.  I tried to warn him that this kind of tribute demand was routinely ignored by ships passing through, and that now that a Morganite ship had paid the tribute, every Morganite ship that came through could look forward to greater and greater demands.  I  had always wondered why system governments still demanded tribute.  As I'm fond of saying, Space, it's big man, so for a system government to try to enforce the paying of tribute would mean they would need a huge number of very fast, heavily armed ships.  This puny little system had none of that.  On top of that, if they did get lucky enough to catch a tribute-jumper out in open space, what would they do to them?  Any kind of forced taking would be considered piracy by a vast majority of spacers, even if they left the ship and crew intact.  If the system gets a reputation for piracy, no reputable freight haulers or traders would bother going there.  There are too many better places to trade.  That means no import, and no exports.  At that point, the system better be self sufficient if they want to survive.

The Morganites are different though.  The Morganites get away with all of this for a couple reasons.  First, they never ask for tribute.  They just turn people around and send them back out of Morganite space.  The Morganite fleet will even provide assistance if your ship is unable to leave.  Second, if you step out of line, try to sneak past them, or ignore their demands, the Morganite fleet will just blast you out of space.  No boarding, no confiscating, just blasting.  Nobody considers them Pirates - other than a few spaceport bar loudmouths - because Morganites don't take anything.  They pat you on your head and send you back out of Morganite space, or they blast you.  Only idiots enter Morganite space with nefarious intent.

We finally reached the next jump point.  This one was on the lower end of the power spectrum, but still well within the bounds of normal.  Stats told us the transit was relatively smooth, although it took sixty three seconds.  That was fine.

Once I got word from Captain Tarkin that he, and Lightning, would go first, I waited my turn.  Yep, the jump took precisely sixty three seconds, and for once the stats didn't lie.  That jump was smooth as glass. 

Our run to the next jump point was a pretty long one.  Captain Tarkin surprised me by setting a pretty brisk pace.  Until now, we were having to hold Hauley back below fifty percent to match speed with the Lightning.  I knew the Lightning could cruise faster, I had seen it, but ever since we left the stash, Captain Sourpuss was setting a slower pace than usual.  I figured it must be some Morganite thing,
so I didn't push him about it.  Now for some reason he decided to push it.

We made good time, and was at the jump point a few days ahead of schedule.  This was the unstable jump, so I started whistling an old Pirate shanty and tossing out orders using my very best bad pirate imitation.  "Avast ye planet lubbers, rig the boat for heavy seas!"  I ordered.  "Strike the grav and heave too.  Set a course for the brimey deep and beyond!"

"Captain?   Are you well?"  Cmdr. Barona asked, worried.

"Aw, c'mon Barona.  We're about to hit some heavy turbulence, and this is the only way to get through this jump without rattling your back teeth out.  Everybody!  Grab a bag and some bungees and get them hung up like I did this one right here!"

"This isn't Morganite procedure for transiting an unstable matrix.  Morganite procedure is to go to condition one and everyone stand their station.  What is all this for?"

"Commander Barona.  This isn't a Morganite ship, and you will follow my orders."  I said, with a little more heat than I intended to.  "I've been through this particular monster a few times.  I tried to warn Captain Tarkin but he wouldn't listen.  That's on him.  As for my ship, and my crew, we're doing it my way.  Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes Captain,"  Cmdr. Barona said, and then turned around and started issuing orders.

"Aw c'mon Barona.  Do the Pirate thing!  This is totally a pirate-type thing we are doing here.  At least try to have a little fun!"

She didn't.

Guess she didn't have it in her.

By the time Captain Sourpuss called to tell us they were ready to transit the jump point, I had the crew all strung up in their comfy sleeping bags except for me, PO Smart, Shelly, and Barona.  Our sleeping bags were close by, and PO Smart rigged a relatively small remote that I could use to shut down the artificial grav and send Hauley through the jump point.

The trip was just as rough as I remembered.  We had everything battened down, the artificial grav was off, and the crew was safely zipped into their bouncy bags, so while our ride was a bouncy one, it wasn't the bone-jarring ride that we would have had.  

We could easily tell when we exited the jump because the ship calmed down and quit shaking.  I was the first out of my bag, and hopped to the helm controls to get the ship stabilized and back on course.  The light board was... mostly... green, there were a few red lights but nothing too catastrophic.  

"Mayday, mayday, this is the Morganite Ship Lightning, anyone in the vicinity please respond and render aid."  Came a voice from the comm system.

Cmdr. Barona ran over to the comm console.  "This is Haul-o-caster, what is your status?"

"Haul-o-caster, we thought you were destroyed.  Half the crew is injured, all our systems are down." the voice said, it was a young man's voice and he sounded like he was about to cry.

"Haul-o-caster came through just fine." Barona reassured the young crewman.  "We have you on sensors and we will dock with you shortly to render aid.  How is Captain Tarkin, is he available?"

"He's,  I haven't seen him yet.  We were at condition one when we entered the matrix.  When the shaking started, things started falling apart.  The Captain was hit on the head and Lieutenant Tanner took him to sick bay."

While Cmdr. Barona was calming the young crewman down, I got the Haul-o-caster organized.  We had only one injury,  Barns unzipped to get a peek at what was going on during the transit and was accidentally bounced right out of her bag.  The injury didn't look all that bad, so I sent her to the autodoc to get it patched up.

Soon we were, once again, docked with the Lightning.  The young crewman hadn't been exaggerating, nearly every system was down.   There were also a lot of injuries.  I don't know what Captain Tarkin had been thinking, it didn't look like the crew of the Lightning had secured anything.  The galley was a particularly huge mess, with broken dishes and silverware strewn about.  By Contrast, Hauley's galley came through without a single broken dish.

"Captain Kid!  I hold you personally responsible for this!"  Yelled Captain Tarkin when we finally located him.  "What were you thinking telling us we could make it through that thing?"

"You made it, right?"  I answered,  "And don't you dare try to push this off on me.  I warned you that this was a rough crossing, and told you that you needed to lock everything down."  

Eventually, Chief Williamson and PO Smart, along with the Lightning's own engineering crew, managed to get the Lightning's power back on line and put them well along the path to getting the rest of the systems up and running,  so they were sent back to the Haul-o-caster.  Upon their return, Chief Williamson asked to see Cmdr. Barona, Mother Ahmisa, and me in private.

"Captain, I'm worried.  Captain Tarkin is talking about having Haul-o-caster's entire crew arrested and charged with dereliction of duty."

"Can he do that?"  I asked the three of them.

"He's the commander of the mission, so yes, he can write the charges."  Mother Ahmisa said,  "Although since the crew are Morganites, we have certain protections.  He can't try us without three Captains to form a Captain's mast.  You on the other hand, Captain, since you aren't a Morganite, he can try you himself, and there isn't much we can do about it."

"If he does this, when he convicts me - and he will because he's already made his mind up - what does that mean, what can he do?"

"Dereliction of duty is usually either a reduction of rank or removal from the Fleet."  Mother Ahmisa answered, "The cases I have read about where it's a ship's Captain on a mission, that has at times included being beached on the nearest habitable planet."

"Admiral Thomas would never put up with this."  Cmdr. Barona said.

"That we shall see."  Mother Ahmisa said.  

As expected the final foot fell and Captain Tarkin sent a message to Cmdr. Barona ordering her to take command of the Haul-o-caster, and hand me over to the Lightning on the charges of dereliction of duty, and gross negligence during a condition one status in wartime.

Barona was between a rock and a hard place.  Captain Tarkin was in command of the mission, and therefor was in her chain of command and outranked her.  So she was compelled to obey his orders by her oath.  On the other hand, she didn't agree with the charges, so she promised to testify for me at my Captain's mast.

I was arrested and put in chains.  The whole idea of being chained up like an animal struck me as humorous.  We were on a ship, out in space, and I was surrounded by people, most of them much larger than me.  I expected to be confined to a brig or something, but I was immediately taken to the Captain's office where I was dragged in front of the Captain's desk by two men.  I didn't know their names, but one was the XO of the Lightning, and I believe the other was her tactical officer.  

Captain Tarkin's office was much nicer than mine, with a desk made of actual wood, paintings on the wall and shelves with actual books.  I had only seen three real printed books in my entire lifetime.  Everything was on datapads these days.  Having actual paper and ink books was a luxury that very few could afford.  

"Former Captain Kid, you are hereby charged with dereliction of duty in wartime, and sabotage.  How do you plea?"  Captain Tarkin asked.

I was confused.  "Isn't there a trial, when do I get to call witnesses?"

Captain Tarkin laughed.  "You are a thing.  Did some digging through the regulations on this, and they are clear.  Cyborgs who, through their own actions or on the order of another, cause serious harm to a ship or crew members, while on a mission during time of war, may be dealt with in any way that the Commander of the mission desires.  We've already spent too much time on this, toss her out an airlock, we have a mission to complete!"

"Captain, are you sure..." started the tactical officer, but he was cut off by the XO.

"Belay that.  Do not question your Captain's orders!"  Then he grabbed my arm hard and shook it.  It should have hurt, but I was in shock.  They were going to throw me out an airlock!  I have the feeling that because of my cyber device, I can survive things that people usually couldn't, but I really didn't think that included being chucked into space.  

I tried to fight, but these were two big men, and in spite of being pretty strong for a skinny girl. I was nowhere near strong enough to fight off one of these men, let alone two.

"XO, Please.  This is wrong."  The tactical officer said,  "The Captain is relying on regulations that were written for violent prisoners who were pacified using a cyber device, not for ships Captains."

"Greg, you talk too much."  The XO said, "Shut up, and we'll carry out the Captain's commands, to the letter.  It will be ok, I've already seen to it."

"But.."

"Do you trust me Greg?  We've been through a lot together you and I.  We've managed to keep this crew together and keep morale up in spite of...  In spite of what's going on.  Don't worry, we'll survive this too.  As long as you can keep your mouth shut, and I know you can, I've got this."

The two kept dragging me towards the airlock, or an airlock anyway.  A couple crew members followed asking the XO what was going on, but he ordered them back to their stations."

For a second, I thought that maybe they were taking me somewhere other than an airlock and my hopes soared, only to be crashed again when I saw we were heading towards one of the cargo airlocks near the back of the ship instead.

When we got there, a young woman wearing civilian clothes, but with a pin with the Lightning's ship insignia on it came out from behind a crate carrying something.  It must have been their ship's Mother, I was surprised by how young she was.  The XO and tactical officer let go of my arms, and started unchaining my hands and feet.  

"This is just a shipsuit, but it's a good one and should protect you for a few minutes.  Put it on under your clothes in case the Captain decides to watch your execution.  We are in a dead-spot here, so he won't see.  Albert, Greg, turn away."  The young Mother said.

I did as she asked and stripped out of my uniform quickly, donned the thin shipsuit, and then re-dressed in my uniform.  The design on the shipsuit was a familiar one.  All I would have to do was pull the hood over my head and zip it.  Other than my head, I would be double protected because when we designed the Haul-o-caster's uniforms, we designed them to be shipsuits, but ours required an external hood, and I didn't have one with me.  I vowed that if I survived this, I was redesigning the uniform.  I know that Barona didn't like the idea of a uniform with an attached hood, but I liked dying in space much less.

Then, because the actual airlock was not in a video blind spot I was re-chained, and the XO and tactical officer of the Lightning unceremoniously dumped me in the airlock and once the inner doors were sealed, opened the outer doors and dumped me into space.

I barely had time to get my hood zipped.

I floated in space for what seemed like an eternity.  Just when it started getting hard to breathe, and I was sure that something went wrong with the XO's plan, I felt something grab my leg.  When I opened my eyes, I saw PO Smart in one of the maintenance suits dragging me into one of Hauley's maintenance airlocks.  I was saved.

"Welcome back Captain."  Cmdr. Barona said as I was unzipping the shipsuit and gasping for breath in the, now thankfully repressurized, airlock.  "I had no idea that Captain Tarkin would dare to do something so extreme.  You have to believe me."  I could tell she was upset.

"Well, Thanks to some friends on the Lightning, I'm not dead.  So let's call this one a win and move on.  I can tell we are under way.  What's our status?"

"Officially, I'm acting Captain."  Cmdr. Barona said, "We've kept your rescue from most of the crew, only PO Smart, Barns, Mother Ahmisa, and I know you've been executed and rescued.  Everyone else still thinks you are in Lightning's brig.  We kept this quiet to protect the rest of the crew.  What they don't know, they can't be charged for.  We would have kept it from PO Smart and Barns, but we needed someone to fly the ship and PO Smart caught us as we were trying to get the maintenance suit working.  Good thing too, because it's a new model that I am unfamiliar with."

"Don't worry Captain,"  PO Smart reassured  me. "I was down here trying to come up with way of springing you from the Lightning when I ran into Cmdr. Barona and Mother Ahmisa and they told me you had been tossed into space.  They didn't tell me you had a shipsuit under your uniform, I half expected to be pulling in a dead body...  No offence."

"None taken.  Apparently, the Morganite Fleet considers me a thing, not a person.  So who am I to take offence?"  

"Not the Morganite Fleet Captain."  Mother Ahmisa said,  "Just a group of misguided fools.  Admiral Thomas will take care of them as soon as we get back to Vanguard.  Until then, we need to keep your presence a secret.  I am outside the Morganite Fleet chain of command, if you are discovered I will swear that I rescued you myself, and nobody else on the ship knows of your presence here.  Hopefully, that will shield the crew from repercussions.  It's a scant hope, but it's better than nothing."

"Captain!"  Shelly interrupted as she ran down the corridor.  "We just got a comm from Captain Tarkin on the Lightning, we are all being relieved of duty.  He's coming!  Barns is pretending like she forgot how to stop the ship and keeps speeding up, but the Lightning is keeping up with us."

"Guess the gig is up."  I said as I walked over to a console and hit the ship wide button, "Battle Stations!  Set condition one!"

We ran to the bridge.  Shelly took her place at comm.  

"Punch it Barns."  I said.

"Punching it Captain!"  Barns smiled, "Welcome back aboard."

"Don't smile yet Barns, we still all might die in a fiery explosion, or get executed by a mad man."  Cmdr. Barona said.

"Can I skip the executed part?  I already did that once today.  It was not as fun as you might think."

Barns had indeed punched it.  I looked over and saw we were pushing around eighty five percent on the throttle, and Barns was making minor adjustments while looking at her screen.  Bump it up a bit, look, bump it back down a bit, look.

"What are you doing Barns?"  I asked.

"Trying to find the perfect sweet spot Captain.  There is a spot where she hits the most speed while still maintaining some semblance of fuel economy.  Don't get me wrong, she's still guzzling it down like a madwoman, but we'll get a little further this way...  I hope.  THERE!  Got it."

She had indeed.  It was as if the fuel and engine system was balanced just right on that spot.  A little more throttle and economy would go to heck,  A little less throttle, and once again, heck.  The throttle was just a bump shy of eighty five percent.  

"I noticed this when we were playing with the Lightning on the way out.  Never seen a ship do this before."  Barns said.

"I thought we only got to seventy percent that time."  

"We did, but when we were doing that, I was looking at the engine performance graphs.  Did you know, not long before I joined the crew, someone powered the ship up to full power?  That had to be ridiculously fast!"

It was.  I remembered that day.  Watching Otford come apart.  'rus on a rampage killing everyone.  It was not a good day.  

"Yes, it was fast."  was all I said.

Luckily, we managed to get out ahead of the Lightning, and slowly pulled away.  Captain Tarkin tried missiles, but we outran them, he tried his blaster cannons, but with how small his ship was, they just weren't powerful enough to do anything worthwhile.  We made finally made it back to the fleet a couple hours ahead of the Lightning.  I immediately contacted Admiral Thomas from my quarters.

"Captain Kid, that sure was an interesting arrival, are you being pursued?  Where is the Lightning?"

"Admiral,  yes we are being pursued.  It is the Lightning that is doing the pursuing.  I'm requesting to dock with the Bait and Tackle, so I can offload your supplies, onload my things, and then I'm done with Morganites for good.  No offence."

"What?  What happened?"  

Another voice came on the comm channel.  "This is Mother Ahmisa.  Sorry Captain, sorry Admiral.  I normally wouldn't break in like this, but it is my duty to protect the crew of this ship.  Captain Tarkin had Captain Kid arrested and charged her with sabotage, even though the damage to his ship was caused by his own incompetence rather than any action on her part.  In contravention to Captain Tarkin's orders, I rescued Captain Kid.  I am asking for a summary judgement on behalf of the crew that they are innocent.  I offer my life in exchange."

The Admiral sighed.  "Can we just all agree to settle down here for a second?  Nobody is getting charged with anything or exchanging their lives or quitting and leaving until I've had a calm conversation with everyone involved and know what's going on.  For now, Captain Kid, you have permission to dock with the Bait and Tackle.  We need those supplies.  I'm sending a couple of destoyers who's Captains I trust implicitly to cover your back till we get to the bottom of this.  Admiral Thomas out."

I walked out to the bridge and gave the order to dock with the Bait and Tackle, and ordered hatches to be sealed so that the Bait and Tackle could offload the supplies, but nobody could get aboard the Haul-o-caster.  Then I posted guards for good measure.

Not long after, the Lightning showed up.  

"Captain, Captain Tarkin of the Lightning on the comm for you."  Shelly announced.

"Really?  He's calling ME of all people?  Feel free to put him through right to hell."

"He's ordering me to put you on Captain."

"Shelly, Captain Tarkin is no longer in your chain of command."  Lt. Cmdr. Dorn calmly explained to her.  "Do as the Captain said... or at least, decline the connection, as I believe the Captain was speaking figuratively rather than literally."

"Yes sir."  She said.  I could tell that she was pretty intimidated by Captain Tarkin, and wondered what he was saying to her.

"Captain, permission to go speak to Mother Ahmisa, please."  Shelly begged.  He must have really gotten to her.

"Yes Shelly, feel free to go.  Lt. Cmdr. Dorn, would you mind manning the comm station for now?  I know it's outside of your usual job description, but it sounds like someone is not being nice, and I get the impression you can handle that."

"Yes Captain.  Request permission to handle that with extreme prejudice?"  He smiled, but it was the grin of someone about to do violence, if only verbally in this case.

"Knock yourself out."  I smiled.

A few minutes later, Lt. Cmdr. Dorn announced.  "Admiral on the conn for you Captain."

"On screen."


"Captain Kid," the Admiral said,  "Captain Tarkin is leveling some pretty serious accusations against you and your crew.   He says you sabotaged his ship, trying to get it destroyed while transiting on two separate occasions during your mission.  He says on both occasions, your ship received little to no damage, while his ship was almost destroyed.  Do you have an answer for this?"

"Feel free to look at my damage control logs, and my transit logs and match them to his transit logs Admiral.  We both did the same jumps, our ships received the same amount of punishment.  Haul-o-caster was prepared, Lightning was not.  I would be happy to forward you recordings of my conversation with Captain Tarkin, practically begging him to batten down his ship and modify procedure to protect his crew during the last transit, a transit we made in order to deliver supplies to the Vanguard Fleet and complete our mission, but he refused my advice.  I demand that any charges against my crew for following my orders to rescinded and stricken from their records."

"Please forward those records to me."  The Admiral said.

"Lt. Cmdr. Dorn?"

"Forwarding now Captain."  Lt. Cmdr. Dorn said.  "You should be receiving them now Admiral."

"Very well, I will go over these and contact you if there is anything more that I need.  Admiral Thomas out."