Buccaneers (Privateer Tales Book 8) Page 2

  "Now you've got my attention," he replied in his deep baritone voice.

  "Good. Big Pete and Nick have been looking at an opportunity that we'd like to share with you," I said.

  Looking around the table at my friends and family, I thought for a moment about how far we'd all traveled to get here. The decisions we made tonight would change our lives forever.

  "The Belirand Corporation is issuing mining claims for the Descartes Asteroid Belt in the Tipperary system. Big Pete and Silver would like to stake one of these claims."

  Ada was first to pipe up. "You'd go back to mining?" Ada and I had spent endless hours sitting together in the cockpit of the Adela Chen talking about our childhoods. She knew my aversion to mining.

  "I don't think that's in the cards for me," I responded. "Maybe this is just selfish thinking, but I've always wanted to see the rest of the known galaxy. Loose Nuts is more interested in setting up a trade route. I don't know how much attention you've been paying to the solar system gates, but Belirand is issuing mining claims to get material to build a new TransLoc gate from Tipperary back to Sol. Once that's done, there will be a round trip through the four systems. We believe this will turn Tipperary from its current, backwater existence into a major trading hub."

  I set a small projector on the table showing the four systems and their gates.

  "That's three jumps. How are you going to do that? Are you leaving the tug behind?" Ada asked.

  It was a fair question as she and Mom had taken over the responsibility of running our tug, the Adela Chen, for the last several months.

  "Not decided and honestly it depends on your interest. Belirand is offering a free one-way trip through the gates. Without them, it would cost in excess of half a million credits to put the tug and a barge through all three gates, much less get them back. A return trip isn't impossible, but it's expensive."

  "What about Hotspur?" Tali asked.

  "Hotspur has TransLoc engines. We've never operated them, but they'll work. The fuel isn't the big expense. Most of the cost is in the engines and the fees charged by Belirand."

  Nick stepped in. "There's another piece of this that a couple of you might be interested in. Léger Nuage, one of eighteen cities above the planet Grünholz, is giving away commercial warehouse bays. Loose Nuts is considering setting up a trading hub in one of their large bays."

  "Isn't that a cloud city?" Lena asked, sitting forward. "Why would they give space away?"

  Nick replied, "It is. Léger Nuage literally means light cloud. And, it's a simple matter of the city having been overbuilt. The government planners are trying to attract new settlers and businesses."

  Jake's large hands moved quickly as he focused, gesturing and punching his fingers on a virtual keyboard. He grabbed a piece of information and tossed it out at the group. My HUD displayed Léger Nuage's advertisement for free commercial spaces. It showed sweeping views of verandas that overlooked a field of fluffy white clouds with well-dressed citizens out for an afternoon stroll.

  "How romantic," Ada said.

  "What's the population of the city?" Lena asked.

  Jake answered. "Twelve thousand. It's the smallest of Nuage nation's cities."

  "Sounds perfect for a fresh start," she said wistfully. When I'd first met Lena, she had been something between a slave and a pirate, angry, untrusting, and beaten down. So much had changed since we'd shown her compassion and decency, handing over control of a captured pirate ship so she could escape. It was an unusual twist of fate in which we'd found each other again and become friends.

  "One of the reasons we asked you here was because, at a minimum, we'll have room to provide transport to anyone who might be interested in going through the gates. I can't promise that we'd have work for you, Lena, or even you, Jake, but we'd do our best to look out for you."

  "What about Ada?" Mom asked. I knew she'd become as fond of Ada as I was and I appreciated the opening.

  Ada raised her eyebrows in anticipation.

  "You're part of the company, Ada, and the captain of the Adela Chen. Nick and I have talked about it and that ship goes where you say. If you would like to stay in Sol and run a business here, we're behind you. That said, if you're willing, we'd love to have you come along."

  "Do you think you can keep a tug busy?" she asked.

  Nick turned to her. "It's a risk. The Hoffen claim can't possibly keep a barge busy, but something we learned on Colony 40 was that miners lose a lot of money to middlemen. I think we might be able to make deals with other miners - even set up a co-op of our own. On the other hand, there's no question that you'd make more money managing the ship in local space around Mars."

  "Isn't that true for Hotspur?" she asked.

  He nodded in agreement. "It's hard to know how we'll do. We have enough cash reserves that even if we totally blow it, we can come back and restart. It's a big risk, but one we're interested in taking."

  "When do you take off?" Jake asked.

  Big Pete, who'd been quiet to this point, answered. "Silver and I submitted our application to Belirand for a claim. We have nine months to get in-system or our claim will be null and void and our five thousand credit deposit will be surrendered. I'd recommend that anyone who is coming along stake a claim if you have funds for the deposit. Once you get there, you need to work the claim for two months in each twelve month period for the first two years. After that, you own the claim outright."

  "Pete. Are you trying to turn us all into miners?" Marny asked, smiling.

  "No ma'am. As much as I think it'd be the best thing for you, I know better. Thing is, if Silver and I rotate claims every two months, we could keep six claims active long enough that five of you could have something of real value in the end," Pete said.

  Pete's offer caused excited tittering around the table. Even I didn't know he was willing to work everyone's claims. The value of a permanent claim in the Sol system was normally in the millions of credits. The number of millions depended, of course on the minerals found. Dad's offer could turn out to be quite a gift, although if he didn't think I saw through his ploy to get me back to mining, he was nuts.

  "Would you take on a greenhorn?" Ada asked, barely audible over the din. Mom and I both caught it but Big Pete hadn't.

  Mom laid her hand on Ada's arm. "You want to learn how to mine asteroids?" Mom's voice was low, not wanting to embarrass Ada if she'd misspoken.

  "Maybe not full time. But I wouldn't mind having a place to call my own. It'd give me something to do if we were slow on hauling," Ada replied.

  Mom elbowed Dad. "Pete, you catching this?"

  He looked at Ada thoughtfully and finally answered. "Can't see why it wouldn't work. I gotta be honest, you don't see too many ladies out there, but there's nothing that'd get in your way, especially if you can fly a pod-jumper anywhere near as good as you can a tug."

  Mom must have stepped on the top of his foot because he yipped in pain.

  "Are you saying I'm not a lady?" she asked in mock anger.

  "I misspoke. I might have better said, 'attractive single ladies as opposed to attractive married ladies.'"

  Mom was mollified and Ada gave Pete her peta-watt smile. Somehow he'd escaped a dangerous conversational pitfall and complimented Ada all at the same time. In a similar situation I would have, no doubt, failed miserably.

  "How much time before you need to hear from us?" Jake asked.

  "Let's get together for breakfast next Sunday at Ada's favorite restaurant - The Southern Gardens. Big Pete can bring a model of the Descartes Asteroid belt showing his claim and the open claims nearby."

  "Are there many open?" Ada asked, still interested.

  "Sure are," Big Pete said. "They've opened a section of the belt that can support at least two thousand claims. In the last two months, only forty have been reserved. I'm not sure why there's not more interest."

  "See you all Sunday." Tali stood. "I need to get going."

  We'd been talking for a couple of hours and h
er departure was all the rest of the group needed to break up. On the way out, Jake caught up with Nick and me.

  "You have time for a detour?" he asked.

  Nick looked at me and then asked, "What's up?"

  "I've got something to show you."

  He definitely had my attention. When we'd last talked to Jake he'd separated from our corporation to pursue rebuilding ships using our company's license to manufacture parts for CA-12 cutters. We'd invested two hundred thousand credits in his company and had yet to see a return.

  "Sure, why not?" Nick said.

  Tabby had leaned into my back with her hand on my waist and was blowing in my ear suggestively. It felt like she'd had enough social time and would prefer to call it a night.

  "Hey Tabs, you mind? Jake's never boring," I said.

  She purred back at me under her breath. "Your loss." I mentally kicked myself.

  "It won't take too long," Jake said looking at Tabby and me with a knowing grin. I wondered if he had better than average hearing. "We can hoof it. It's only a twenty minute walk."

  "Lead on," I said, though my heart definitely wasn't in it.

  Meglianos was in the heart of the University Hills district of Puskar Stellar. Wide sidewalks were common and for a short time we melded into the walking traffic.

  Tabby turned more than a few heads in her skin-tight, bright red leather slacks. Ever since coming out of the tank, she'd been more than proud of her new parts. From my perspective they looked nearly identical to her old parts, but having lost them for a period of time made her just that much more determined to flaunt 'em.

  Once we finally turned off onto a less traveled path Marny observed, "Probably good you never decided to go to school here, Tabby. I don't think the male students would get much done with you around."

  Tabby giggled and pulled in closer to me. I wondered when it would get old for her. I'd never say anything. I'd seen her deal with loss of limbs and hardly complain. She could strut around whenever she wanted. She'd earned it.

  "Here we are," Jake said.

  As far as I could tell we were still in University Hills. Dorms, condos and shopping areas had given way to more industrial buildings.

  "Lots of labs out here. I rented this warehouse as part of an entrepreneurial incubator offering from the school," Jake said as he placed his palm on a security panel of an entry door.

  "A what, whatty?" Marny asked.

  "Cheap rent to help businesses get off the ground. Since I'm still a grad student, I got a really good deal."

  We walked into a small vestibule with a desk and a soft chair.

  "Is this where you're working on the ships?" Nick asked. As usual he was a couple of steps ahead of me.

  Jake didn't answer but pushed through a swinging door to a huge warehouse filled with three nearly identical CA-12 cutters. My eyes searched the bow of each of them, trying to determine if any were Sterra's Gift. I wouldn't have thought I'd have had problems identifying her, but sitting next to her identical sisters I honestly couldn't pick her out.

  "Is she here?" I asked. My heart was actually racing from anticipation.

  "No, just part of the buildup. She's out back. These are my current works in progress," he said.

  Nick was astonished. "You're working on three at a time?"

  "Better than that. These are the last three of ten."

  Nick whistled, clearly impressed. "You really got after it. Are there any more CA-12s in the area that need working on?"

  "No. I'd have to go to the Near Earth region to pick up any more."

  I couldn't help myself. "How'd you get all this done?"

  "One of the advantages to being Professor Coffman's grad student is access to cheap labor from students trying to get into her classes. I hired out some of the harder work to pros, but only about ten percent of it. Having access to the intellectual property to manufacture the parts was really what made this all work."

  "You're killing me here," I said.

  Jake chuckled and walked us past the three cutters. The smell of fresh paint pervaded the warehouse as a small bot scurried across the surface of the last ship, laying down a coat of gloss. Through the glass of the bridge on that same ship I could see that the lights were on and a head bobbed in and out of my visual range. Someone was working on the bulkheads in front of the pilot chairs. I couldn't imagine how he'd successfully rebuilt ten ships in the period of six months, with or without cheap labor.

  When he opened the door at the rear of the warehouse, I didn't need anyone to tell me what I was looking at. A gloss black paint job had added a dramatic flair, but it was absolutely Sterra's Gift. Like a mother who would recognize her own baby, I knew mine.

  I pushed past Jake and Nick and ran into the graveled back lot and stood in front of her, tears welling in my eyes. I know it's ridiculous to feel so much for an inanimate object, but I felt it regardless. Tabby slid in next to me and placed her hand into my own. I squeezed it excitedly and pulled her around to the airlock, slamming my free hand on the security panel.

  "Sorry, Liam, I had to replace the security core. It was riddled with Mars Protectorate security viruses," Jake said, catching up. He palmed the panel and the stairs extended down from the hatch. I ran up the stairs and pulled open the airlock door. I soon found myself in the all too familiar hallway.

  Like a kid in a candy store I ran down the hall, poking my head through doors along the way to the bridge. Everything was spotless. Once on the bridge, I vaulted over the back of the pilot's chair. Tabby slid into the chair next to me. She held her fist across the aisle between us. I bumped it with my own, triumphantly.

  Jake, Nick and Marny finally caught up with us.

  "What do you think?" Jake was clearly pleased by my reaction.

  I jumped up and surprised the larger man with a bear hug, lifting him off the ground. "She's perfect. Is it all like this?"

  I set Jake down, mostly because I was having a difficult time holding him up.

  "If by 'all like this' you mean, perfectly restored, then yes. Not her original engines, but given recent conversations, they're an upgrade you might appreciate."

  "TransLoc?"

  "Yup. They're not new, but they'll work. I pulled them off one of the wrecks I brought in," he said.

  "Whoa. How much is that going to cost us?"

  Jake looked at Nick with a raised eyebrow.

  Nick answered, "We traded Jake a single run of the stealth armor pattern we got from the Brits and unlimited future access to the CA-12 part patterns. For that we have a brand new Sterra's Gift, complete with TransLoc engines. We also forgave his initial debt and he agreed to let us keep five percent of his company."

  No price was too much, it was like I'd gotten a friend back. It was the best gift I could have ever received.

  Nick saw it coming but didn't resist when I picked him up in a bear hug. I think he might have even enjoyed it a little.

  TRADITIONS

  "Are you done with her?" I asked, looking at Jake.

  He wore a wide smile. I didn't trust Jake like Nick did, but he was growing on me.

  "We are. There are a couple of things to know. We had to switch back to a slug throwing turret. Your blaster turret was completely ruined, not to mention the spyware in the batteries, compliments of the Navy.

  "Back to sitting in the crow's nest?" I asked. The new blaster turret had eliminated the need for someone to sit behind the guns in the armory turret and I found it handy to have the gunner sitting on the bridge instead. However, we could manage quite well with the old setup.

  "It will fire remotely, but it's not ideal. We had to work with the original ship layout. However, as a weapons designer, I should point out that the crow's nest, while a little slower, has a higher kill rate. Something about lining up with and actually seeing the target makes people more effective."

  I looked at Marny for confirmation.

  She replied, "We're really splitting hairs, Cap. Difference is in the three to six percent ra
nge and it changes based on the size of craft you're fighting. Against darts, I prefer the automated turrets and energy blasters. Anything bigger and the slug throwers are better. Too many factors to make a big statement one way or the other. Point is, it's not a downgrade."

  "What about cost for ammo. Surely that factors into it," I said.

  Tabby was getting restless with all of the conversation.

  "Slug throwers are more expensive to operate. On the positive side, however, a full load of ammunition is fifty percent the weight of those batteries. You'll be faster and more nimble," Marny answered.

  She had me there. I'd pay money to have agility in combat.

  "You said you put new engines on?"

  Jake continued, "That's right. I found a trio of rebuilt Chrysler engines. You'll get a small increase in acceleration and ten percent better fuel economy. She still can't outrun Hotspur over any distance, but then most ships can't."

  "Anything we need to get?" I asked.

  "Galley-Pro, suit fresheners, that sort of thing. All of the flight, comm, navigation and O2 systems have been repaired or replaced."

  "What about the septic field?" I had a bad feeling about this. Somehow, things always came down to me slogging around in the slop. Fatalistically, I felt it was only a matter of time.

  "Completely replaced. Something big must have hit it," he said.

  "Always does."

  Jake leaned down and opened a bulkhead door in the starboard bridge station. He pulled out a dark glass wine bottle and handed it to me.

  "What's this for?"

  "It's an ancient tradition to christen a ship when it is recommissioned," he said. "Originally, the captain would break a bottle of bubbly on the bow of the ship. Anymore, it's common to just open the bottle and share a drink."

  Jake deftly removed the stopper, which shot up and ricocheted off the ceiling. Nick had grabbed cups from the same cabinet, holding them for Jake to pour.

  Jake continued. "To long life and prosperous trade." He held his cup out, clinking it with everyone else's, in turn. The rest of us mimicked his actions, tipping back the contents of our cups.