Gray Panthers Captain Short Blade (15 page)

“I’ll stay up here and monitor the repairs if you two can go back to the main cargo bay and clean it out. We have an air filtration problem from our last cargo residue,” Short Blade suggested in a manner that left no doubt it was an order.

“Come on, Guns. You shovel and I’ll bag,” Jimmy said lightheartedly as he exited the cockpit.

“Never thought when I grew up I’d be shoveling bovine excrement in space,” Guns muttered as he followed Jimmy.

As Short Blade listened to his crew’s banter he was thankful for their company. The views on the monitor were depressing as he looked at all of the damage to the ship. When the lights inside the ship came on, the view was less dismal. He could see that the droids from the Beater were now performing repairs too. He debated whether he should sell the Beater, knowing that the Republic was offering top price for serviceable ships, but the idea of keeping it to increase his business won out. Before long, he dozed off.

Short Blade woke with a start. The chronometer in the flight deck showed that six hours had passed. Cursing to himself, he contacted the shuttle’s AI.

“Phoenix, what’s the current status of repairs to the Beater?”

“Sir, the Beater has been pressurized. Life support is online and cleaning the atmosphere of harmful gases. The temperature is minus seventy-eight and slowly warming. Propulsion and the FTL drive appear operational. Weapons systems have been repaired and can be brought back online as well.”

“Did Beater report this to you, or did you ascertain this yourself?”

“Sir, I have monitored the progress as I assisted in the repairs. This is my conclusion.”

“Beater, please report ship’s status,” Short Blade commed to the ship.

“Sir, propulsion systems are online and seem ready to go. I will need to test them before they can be considered mission-ready. Navigation and sensors are online. Ship’s life support has been repaired and is currently scrubbing contaminants from the air. Temperature is still too low for human comfort. I estimate it will be another hour before temperature and air quality are at habitable levels. Weapons systems have also been repaired, and ammunition for weapons is at ninety-nine percent. Secondary systems are being inspected for problems. I recommend that a level-one depot inspection be conducted on every system.”

“We won’t be going to any depots, Beater. Once you’re ready, we’ll head for planet Glory. We’ll land on my ranch, where we’ll perform all inspections until I’m satisfied you are mission-ready. Short Blade, out.”

“Crew to the cockpit, please,” Short Blade announced through the shuttle’s comm. Both men arrived almost instantly. “The Beater will be ready in a little over an hour. We’ll dock with her, and I’ll transfer over and assume command. Jimmy, you’ll be in command of the shuttle. You’ll follow me back to the ranch. When we get there we’ll perform a level-one depot inspection of the ship to the best of our ability. When all inspections have been completed, the Beater will be our flagship. I will assume command of her and one of you will take command of the Phoenix. Any questions?”

“Sir, it’s too damn dangerous,” Guns argued. “Any number of things could go wrong. That crate has been sitting out here too long to just jump aboard and take off. Who knows what problems could crop up once it’s underway. Why not just let the AI follow us back to the ranch?”

“Guns, we’ve always trusted the Beater to get us home. If she breaks down, I have the most knowledge of her systems and am most capable of isolating and fixing any problems. I’ll be wearing my suit, since I have no plans of dying today. So, in about an hour we’ll dock with the Beater and get down to business. Imagine the amount of cargo we can move with the Beater. We could move enough cattle to start a second ranch. I’ll monitor things here until we dock. You two check the hatch in the main cargo bay to ensure there’s nothing wrong on our side. That will be all for now.”

When Jimmy and Guns left to check the hatchway, Short Blade let out a sigh of relief. He didn’t want to argue or pull rank on his friends. Then a slight shudder went through him as he realized how dangerous the task ahead of him would be.

As he maneuvered the shuttle alongside the ship, he began to sweat uncontrollably. Telling himself it was the spacesuit that was making him perspire, he stood up from the console and began the short walk to the main cargo bay. Guns and Jimmy met him there and assisted in locking down his helmet visor and checking the various connections on the suit.

“You’re good to go, boss. Sure you don’t want one of us as a wingman to cover your back?” Jimmy asked.

“No, Jimmy. If anything happens, you’ll both be needed on the Phoenix,” Short Blade lied as the hatch opened to the small chamber between the two spacecrafts. He didn’t hear the hatch slide shut behind him as the hatchway to the Beater opened. He noticed that the ship’s bulkheads were wet and realized that was a good sign. Any moisture that had been in the air before had condensed and frozen to the surfaces, so the fact that they were now wet meant the ship was warming up inside.

“Beater, give me an update on life support and ship’s status.” The gravity felt normal, which he took as another good sign.

“Sir, all systems are online. Life support is still increasing the heat to the ship’s interior, as the temperature is only fifty degrees Fahrenheit. Humidity is at eighty percent and lowering steadily. No toxic gases or fumes have been detected.”

Looking back at the digital pad to the hatchway, Short Blade saw that the lights were green, confirming that the hatch was locked. He unlocked his helmet visor and slid it up not quite an inch. The cold moist air that slipped in through the opening felt good against his face. Sliding the visor up the rest of the way, he headed for the flight deck, stopping along the way to inspect any damage he saw to make sure it had been repaired or didn’t pose a hazard.

Entering the flight deck brought back many memories. Brushing aside his feelings, he jumped up into the command chair and forced himself into action.

“Beater, begin pre-ignition checklist. Display all results on main monitor as they are complied with. Phoenix, disengage from the Beater and set a course of one-ten degrees for ten minutes. We will rendezvous with you there.”

“Phoenix copies. We’ll set course for one-ten degrees for ten minutes and wait for you there. Phoenix, out.”

The ghosts of the past seemed to disappear as Short Blade sat back in the seat and prepared to start the ship’s engines. The monitor showed that the checklist had been completed and the AI awaited his order.

“Beater, start engines.”

Short Blade felt the pressure from the vents blow slightly harder and the lights seemed to brighten slightly as he gave the navigation commands. He brought up the engineer’s console so he could review all engine stats while he gave the engines more time to run. Satisfied with the condition of the engines, he gave the orders to clear the asteroid.

“Beater, take us fifty miles on heading one-ten to get away from the asteroid’s gravity field, then engage the FTL drive to heading one-ten for a duration of ten minutes.”

He studiously monitored the engine stats while keeping an eye on all other systems. Feeling hot and noticing that he could no longer see his breath, he contemplated removing his suit.

“Preparing to drop into normal space on your command,” Beater stated through the bulkhead speaker.

“You may drop to normal space. Scan for the Phoenix once you do.”

The stars and planets once again appeared on the monitor’s screen when the ship entered normal space. Short Blade waited for Beater to report the location of the Phoenix.

“Beater, we have you at ten thousand miles from us. We are at one-eleven degrees and thirty degrees elevation from the Beater,” Guns commed after seeing the Beater drop into normal space.

“Beater, do you detect the Phoenix?” Short Blade asked.

“Sir, sensors need to be recalibrated after the repairs performed by the Phoenix. The work was not completed correctly, even though it passed initial self-inspection. Calibrating all sensors will take one hour.”

“Phoenix, I need to perform more minor maintenance on the sensors. We’re in a quiet part of space, so I suggest you head back to the ranch and I’ll follow when I can. Main systems are online here, so I just need to calibrate the sensors and secondary systems. We’ve already been away from the ranch too long.”

“Copy that, boss. We’ll keep in touch every hour until you return to base. Phoenix out,” Guns replied.

“What’s his problem?” Jimmy asked.

“He’s in command, and he’s not going to ask us to do anything he wouldn’t do himself. We taught him well. Now let’s head back to the ranch. There’s a poker game tonight, and those mercenaries still can’t get the game down right.”

“Yeah, Guns, until they get hard feelings and tear your guts out,” Jimmy said with a smile. “Phoenix, take us home, please.”

Short Blade couldn’t sit still for an hour while the sensors were being recalibrated, so he decided to take a tour while he waited.

“Beater, I’m going to do a physical inspection of the ship. Please alert me immediately if there are any problems or if we get visitors.”

Hopping down out of the seat, he thought,
I must make the height of that seat adjustable once we get home. I don’t want the crew seeing me having to jump to get in and out of my own chair.

The ugly scars from the repaired battle damage initially saddened him and he thought back to the years he’d spent maintaining the ship. Opening the hatch to the central communications cabin to inspect the AI, he was shocked to see scuttling charges wrapped around the AI. He nervously turned off the receivers that were connected to the explosives and disconnected them before removing the explosives. By the time he returned the last explosive to the munitions locker, he felt as winded as if he’d just run a marathon. He’d always thought of the Beater as his ship, but now it really was his and he would protect it with his very life if he had to.

“Beater, are any more explosive charges missing?” he asked, holding his breath.

“All explosive charges are accounted for at this time and are stored in the munitions locker. One remote detonator is missing.”

Short Blade figured the missing detonator was either still with Captain Johnson’s body or had been lost to space when the hangar had decompressed during power loss. Without intending to, he found himself standing outside his old cabin. He pressed his paw against the security pad for the hatch. Everything was as he had left it when he left to go TDY as Dan Daniels’s aide. The citations he’d received for bravery were on the wall next to the picture of him being promoted to chief petty officer. Other pictures were on the wall as well, but he was drawn to the last one, a photo of the entire crew standing together in front of the Beater.

Realizing he’d been staring at the old picture, lost in memories, for several minutes, he gave himself a good shake and turned his focus back to getting the ship online again.

“Beater, what’s the status of the sensors and other systems?” he asked on the way back to the flight deck.

“All systems are online and functioning normally. Sensors have been calibrated and confirmed with navigational charts. There are no more fluctuations from the ship’s engines. Diagnostics have found no additional discrepancies.”

“Set course for Glory. When we’re in hailing range, announce to the planetary government that the Arizona Spaceship Beater is now the Trader Ship Beater, in accordance with galactic salvage law.”

Entering the flight deck, he stopped once again to look for ghosts before hopping into the command chair.

“Beater, set up engineer’s view on main display, with navigator’s view, as well. On secondary screen, show current position and course for Glory.”

Using the command position’s input, he compared his own course for Glory and accepted the course Beater had plotted.

“Beater, engage the FTL.”

Daniels World

23 April 2129

The huge room that served as the nerve center for Gray Panthers Industries and the Gray Panthers’ combined army and fleet—where Dan monitored all activity relating to his enterprises—was softly illuminated. Old rock and roll played in the background. Dan realized as he went over the latest intelligence reports that the command center was essentially a way of stroking his own ego, since he could get all the information he needed wherever he was.

Based on what he was seeing, pirate activity was spinning out of control, and the new League of Planets didn’t seem to be doing much of anything about it. At least the league’s navy was starting to fit its ships with AIs, as he had planned.

The UN was still trying to figure a way to take control of Gray Panthers Industries, as well as the army and navy assets. Dan laughed to himself when he saw that the organization had finally been able to put together two shuttles and was planning a raid on the lunar complex again. He couldn’t believe they thought they would be able to just go there and take over the base, and the fleet along with it.

He took a break from the reports and pulled up the digital display of the city he’d decided to build for the Gray Panthers vets to retire off-world. Currently, an army of droids was tearing apart the remains of an underground city the Flem had abandoned. The new city would be constructed above ground, and at least a hundred different floor plan options would be available to new residents, each of them approximately two thousand square feet and situated on half an acre.

The houses are definitely big enough and nice enough,
Dan thought
, but folks will need a purpose in order to feel satisfied. I’ll have to think about what type of manufacturing and services we can engage in besides those that support the military.

“You have a call from Republic Central Bank,” the AI Grub announced. “Do you want to take it?”

“Put it through, Grub—audio-only from my side,” Dan responded. “Hello. It’s your dime. Talk to me.”

On the display was a huge red locust. The speaker was of the Kust species, which ran all banking operations in the Republic.

“Mr. Daniels, this is First Officer Plat of Republic Central Bank. I hope you are well.”

Dan was amused as he watched the locust’s mouth move out of sync with the translated message. It reminded him of the old martial arts movies from Earth.

“It’s been a while, Plat. What can I do for you?”

“We’ve heard that you’re demobilizing your fleet. I’ve been authorized to buy as many of your ships as you are willing to sell.”

As Dan listened to the offer, he wished he could interpret the locust’s facial expressions and body language.

“I’m sorry, Plat, but the ships aren’t for sale. They’re part of our strategic reserve. Why would the Republic be interested in our ships, when it already has ships that are superior?”

“Even the Republic likes a bargain. Your ships are not very old, and we’ve discovered how well-built they are. You used top-quality materials in their construction. Also, the fact that they’re equipped with class-one AIs makes them very attractive, since they require only minimal crews.”

“Well, if I decide to sell any ships, I’ll be sure you have first option. Just out of curiosity, if I had a ship the size of a Libra cruiser, what kind of offer could you make?”

“I’d need to confer with a naval procurement officer, but I’m guessing we would offer you the cost of building the ship plus thirty percent, to be paid in either credits or trade material. We’d be interested in other types of ships, as well.”

“Thank you, Plat. If we decide to sell, you’ll be the first we notify. Goodbye.”

Dan smiled as he thought about the conversation. Then he had a nagging feeling that something must wrong, for the Republic to seem so desperate for ships. He put those thoughts aside when Juanita commed him to let him know that dinner was ready. Heading out of the command center, he didn’t realize that he’d missed the last intel report about several ships and their crews disappearing without any clues.