A Matter of Honor (Privateer Tales Book 9) Page 31
"Didn't you lose an engine when you fell out of fold-space?" Tabby asked.
"We did," Rastof said. "Nothing we couldn't fix with, say a Class-F Industrial replicator."
"You pirate, you," Ada said slapping down her cards. "And that's a full house."
We all groaned as she pulled the pile of seeds from the center of the table over to her already large pile.
"I've got the new engine plans already put together," he said. "We just need council approval for a thirty-four hour run."
"Don't we know someone on the council?" I asked.
"We do. She said she'd clear the schedule if we wanted to give it a run," Rastof said.
"What's in it for you, Moonie?" Tabby asked.
"I'm not a farmer. I'm hoping you'll recognize you need an engineer," he said.
Tabby held her fist in the air near Ada, who returned the fist-bump.
"What's that about?" Moonie Rastof asked.
"We were wondering when we'd get off this rock. Love the people and all, but frak do we hate listening to grass grow," Ada said. "Oh… and we thought you seemed like crew to us."
"Seriously? You're bored already?" I grinned at my ever-expanding crew. They were not cut out for life on-planet. "What do you think, Nick?" I asked.
"We'd just need a certain sentient to agree to install a fold-space drive for us," he said not even bothering to take off the towel he'd placed over his eyes to block the sun while he pretended to doze.
"We'd be delighted to," Jonathan said.
It was only a tenday later that we found ourselves crammed, crew-heavy in Hotspur.
In order to give us enough time to repair the engine, we dropped in seven days from where Cape was located. The rationale was if Belirand bothered to drop in after us, they'd be too far away to catch us before we could jump out again.
"There she is," Nick said.
They'd left Cape sailing with minimal signs. We'd have had trouble picking her up if we hadn't known how to pinpoint her.
"Try to raise her," Moonie said, looking over Nick shoulder. "Your ident should wake her up."
Hotspur to Cape of Good Hope, Nick said.
"Oh. Right. She's called Strumpet now," Rastof said.
Nick gave him a slightly pained look and repeated his call. As he did, the lights of the medium cruiser turned on.
"Mom, take us around to the starboard. I'd like to see how bad that engine is," I said.
"Trust me, I can do it," Moonie said. "I'll just need help getting it lashed on there."
"In the middle of the deep dark, with nothing but us and a renno bot?" I asked.
"Frankly, if it were just you guys, we'd be screwed. Sorry for the language Mrs. H.," he said. "But, with that renno bot I modified, we're in like Flynn."
"Like who?" Ada asked.
"Look it up," Moonie said.
"Silver, I've got positive control of Strumpet's catwalk. Bring us in to four meters and zero delta-v," Nick said.
"Copy that," Mom said.
Like Ada, she had a light touch on the controls and easily slid us in next to Strumpet. We heard a positive contact from the catwalk as it latched onto our starboard side entry hatch.
"Equalizing pressure," Nick said. "And we're on."
"I'm running a security sweep and reviewing video logs," Marny said. "We're clear for entry."
No matter how good the atmospheric handling is on a ship, if it sits empty for any period of time, the air always tastes a little stale and Strumpet was no exception. We'd been onboard several times before, but I'd never made it to the bridge, which is where we were headed.
The ship was gorgeous on the inside. As configured, she had limited cargo room, but was physically twice the size of Hotspur. She wasn't as fast as Hotspur, but had considerably heavier weaponry and armor. She was built for a crew of fifteen, but was designed to accommodate three times that number in luxurious passenger accommodations. The only difference between Strumpet and a Justice-Class cruiser was armor. They had it and she didn't. That said, we'd proven that an angry Strumpet could lay down a serious beating on one of her heavier sisters just fine.
When I stepped onto the bridge, it was love at first sight. It was basically the same layout as Sterra's Gift and Mastodon. Pilot's chairs at the front, gunnery stations to the sides, navigation stations at the back and a nice sized conference table centered behind the Captain's chair. It wasn't quite as spotless as Mastodon as there was litter strewn about, but the highly polished wood-grain bulkheads and white synth-leather chairs looked, if anything, more sophisticated than that of Mastodon.
"Tell me she has a combat bridge," I said, looking at Moonie.
"Nope, but there's an armored visor that slides over the armored-glass while in combat," he said.
"Do it!" Ada said excitedly.
"Actually I can't," he said. "Has to come from one of the principals of Loose Nuts."
Add Moon Rastof to crew. Apply standard ship security to Strumpet.
Moonie stepped over to one of the workstations on the side of the bridge and armor plating slid up into place.
"Where is Jonathan with those cool little tea cups that kept the drinks from spilling?" Ada asked.
"We have those," Moonie said. "They're not that hard to come by. There are probably some in the galley."
As we continued to explore the ship, we could see superficial signs of abuse, but nothing the renno bot couldn't easily take care of. There was mostly a lot of trash that had been left behind.
Tabby and I walked in on Marny and Nick who had found the galley. Marny had Nick pinned up against one of the three professional looking stoves.
"Whoa, we'll come back," I said.
"Come on in, Cap. I was just explaining to my little man just what I thought I could do with these ovens," Marny said.
"Cooking really does it for you, doesn't it?" Tabby asked.
"It's all about baking, kids," she said.
"Whoa, what am I interrupting here?" Moonie asked as he rounded the corner.
"I think Marny just volunteered to make dinner. How about we get after that engine?" I said.
"Just need to grab some tools… and I think Jonathan's already on it," he said.
"Let's get after it. Nick, give me a buzz if you need anything."
"Yup," he said. I smiled and shook my head.
It was four days almost to the hour when Jonathan announced he'd completed installation of the fold-space drive.
"So what's all this baking about, Marny?" I asked as we sat down at the beautiful mess table again.
"Grandma. She used to babysit me and we'd bake. I haven't had access to real ovens like this since back then," she said.
"Cool. A fun fact about Marny. What was her name?" I asked.
"Nanna."
"No fair."
"Fine. Rebecca," Marny said.
I felt like it was a win getting Marny to talk about herself.
"We're running low on fuel on Hotspur and we're at sixty percent stores on Strumpet. We're not going to be welcome at many fuel stops. I think we should hit Belirand," Mom said.
She couldn't have surprised me more if she'd taken off her clothes and run around the room - although I was grateful she'd chosen the fuel thing.
"Silver? Something you want to share with the class?" Tabby asked.
Nick and I laughed at Tabby calling mom out on a phrase she'd used when she was our primary school educator on Colony-40. Mom even smiled at the familiar reference.
"Asymmetric warfare. We strike the behemoth where it's weak. Nobody in their right mind would attack a Belirand outpost, unless they didn't have anything to lose. We need fuel. They have it. So we take it. Eventually, they'll come after us, but that's going to happen anyway. The only reason Tullas didn't come after us on Ophir is because Jonathan took away their aninonium," she said.
"We agree with Mrs. Hoffen's analysis," Jonathan said. "The cost of aninonium will have risen exponentially with Anino Enterprise's sudden departure from the mark
et. No amount of stolen fuel would equal the cost required to send an invasion force to Ophir."
"So, my mom and the pacifist sentients want to become pirates? The world as I knew it has just exploded." I sighed at the insanity of it. "I'll bite. Anyone know where to find a lightly defended Belirand fuel depot?"
"Belirand supply caches are everywhere," Moonie said.
"Undefended?"
"Lightly defended, as long as you have a talented engineer who knows how to hack 'em," Moonie said.
"Hack, as in break their software?" Nick asked.
"Trust me. You get me to a cache and I'll break into it."
"Two ships, how do we split the crews?" Ada asked.
"Easy call," Tabby said. "Moonie, me and Captain Hotpants in Hotspur. We fly aggressive and like to mix it up. Ada and Silver are better with the big girls and we need a real gunner on Strumpet."
"When do we leave?" I asked.
"How about now?" Nick asked.
But that's another story entirely.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
To Diane Greenwood Muir for excellence in editing and fine word-smithery. My wife, Janet, for carefully and kindly pointing out my poor grammatical habits. I cannot imagine working through these projects without you both.
To my beta readers: Carol Greenwood, Kelli Whyte, Robert Long, Nancy Higgins Quist, Dave Muir, Michael Gray and Matt Strbjak for wonderful and thoughtful suggestions. It is a joy to work with this intelligent and considerate group of people.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jamie McFarlane is happily married, the father of three and lives in Lincoln, Nebraska. He spends his days engaged in a hi-tech career and his nights and weekends writing works of fiction. He's also the author of:
Privateer Tales
1.Rookie Privateer
2.Fool Me Once
3.Parley
4.Big Pete
5.Smuggler's Dilemma
6.Cutpurse
7.Out of the Tank
8.Buccaneers
9.A Matter of Honor
10.Give No Quarter (Spring 2016)
Guardians of Gaeland
1.Lesser Prince
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CONTACT JAMIE
Blog and Website: fickledragon.com
Facebook: facebook.com/jamiemcfarlaneauthor
Twitter: twitter.com/mcfarlaneauthor