Pursue the Past: Samair in Argos: Book 1 (47 page)

              “Captain,
Ganges
is responding.”

              “Put them on,” he ordered. 

              Commander Tyler peered at him from the display.  “I’m glad to see you’ve come to your senses.  However, we cannot allow such blatant piracy go unchallenged.  You attempted to swindle us out of our product, you destroyed several Hecate fighters and are now trying to flee the system.”

              “I’m not going to argue with you about the events that have transpired here, Commander,” the Captain went on.  “I’m informing you of what is going to happen.  Your ship is in desperate need of the gadolinium shipment currently in my possession, a shipment that I am more than willing to give to you.  I don’t want to see anyone else be killed over it.”

              “Good,” the man interrupted.

              “I’m not finished!” Eamonn said sharply.  The commander stared at him in surprise, but did not interrupt.  The Captain raised a hand to signaling George behind him, who pressed a control on his console.  “I have ejected the shipment on a course that will take it ninety degrees out to port of my vessel.  I will be continuing on course for the hyper limit.  Attached to the shipment is a series of explosive charges, set on a timer.  The timer is set to go off within one hour and five minutes from now.  As your sensors are no doubt informing you, also attached to the shipment is a small propulsion device, which is causing it to fly away from my ship.  So I give you a choice, Captain.  You’re just about in range of my ship with your weapons.  You can attack us, but if you do, you will lose that shipment.  You won’t have time to get both.”

              He leaned forward in his chair, staring straight into the eyes of the other commander.  “So you need to decide which is more important to you: catching my ship, which now has nothing of any real value to you aboard, or getting that shipment of gadolinium before it explodes?  You could have your ship’s hyperdrive constructed and installed within a few weeks.  Who knows how long it will be before another ship comes through here bringing more gadolinium?  Could be months, if not longer.  The choice is up to you.”  He signaled Serinda, who cut the connection.

              The Captain looked over at her.  “Do you think they’ll take the bait?” she asked him.

              “We’ll see.  Maintain course and speed.  Astrogation, helm I want you both ready to make the jump to hyperspace the instant we cross the limit.  Let me know, but don’t wait for an order.”  Both stations acknowledged his comment.

             
Come on now
, the Captain thought. 
Go for the shipment.  You don’t really want us, you want the gadolinium.  Turn.  Turn!

              But the cruiser was holding course.  He was really starting to sweat now.  The plan wasn’t working. 

              “Turn you bastard,” he murmured.  “Turn!”

              And finally, agonizingly, the
Ganges
broke off its pursuit, turning to port and quickly losing ground to the bulk freighter. 

              “Yes!” Serinda said and then looked around, embarrassed.  “It worked!”

              “So far,” the Captain hedged.  But he was grinning.

              Forty minutes passed.  “They’ve reached the package, Captain,” George reported.  “Explosives are deactivated.”

              The Captain nodded.  “I’m going down to the mess hall.  Keep monitoring and notify me immediately if something changes.  Call me just before we jump.”

              “Aye, Captain.”

              The mess hall was surprisingly busy.  Everyone not on duty seemed to have congregated here, gathered together for warm and company.  Cookie had whipped up a feast to try and lift the spirits of the crew and so far, now that the knowledge that they were not in imminent danger of being blasted to bits had disseminated among the crew, it seemed to be working.  Steam tables were filled with deep trays filled with foods.  The fare ranged from human delicacies to alien dishes with plenty of alcohol to go around.

              As he entered, crewmembers spotted him.  “Captain!” one of the cargo workers yelled, raising his glass of beer.  Everyone turned and cried out their greetings to him.  He smiled and accepted a beer from one of the cargo workers as she walked over to him.  She handed it over with a grin and he gladly took a swig.

              “Are we clear yet, Captain?” she asked, the smile slipping a bit.

              He shook his head.  “Not yet, but I think we’re going to make it.”  Passing by, he headed over to one of the tables and sat down.  Gazing around at the party going on around him, he couldn’t help but smile.  They were certainly taking all of the nonsense they’d had to put up with in this system well.  Of course, this wasn’t the first system they were being chased out of and this wasn’t the first close call they’d had with warships coming after them.  Some of the newest crewmembers from Folston weren’t used to this level of tension and excitement, but they seemed to be coping well.  Aside from himself, the Captain didn’t notice any wallflowers in the mess hall.  Food, conversation and drink were flowing and then someone turned the music on.  A song from the hyper-rock band called Quantum String began to blare from the speakers and a cheer went up among the crew.

              A moment later, his communicator beeped and vibrated, for which he was grateful, as he wouldn’t have been able to hear it over the noise of the party.  He got up from the table and left the mess, going into the relatively quieter corridor.  “Yes?”

              “We’ve almost reached the hyper limit, Captain,” Serinda said.  “You wanted to be informed.  One minute to jump.”

              He stuck his head back in the mess hall door.  “One minute to jump!” he bellowed.  A renewed roar of cheers sounded in response.

              “What’s going on down there, Captain?” she asked.

              “They’re starting what I believe will be one hell of a party.  Once we jump, feel free to come down, make sure someone stays on watch, but I’ll make sure food gets delivered to them.”

              “Yes, sir.  Ten seconds to jump.”

              He could hear a countdown in his head, then Serinda said, “Jumping!” There was the same tiny jolt like that of an elevator starting and then nothing.  “We’re in hyperspace, Captain.”

              He breathed a heavy sigh of relief.  “Very good.  Inform all sections we are on hyperspace, normal watch rotation.  Anyone off duty had better be down here in the mess hall for this party.”  He cut the connection and walked back in.  “We are in hyperspace, people!  Very well done!”

              The roar was deafening.

              The party was the longest, rowdiest and most elaborate affair ever seen aboard the
Grania Estelle. 
As people came off shift, others went on, keeping a bare minimum watch rotation.  As it was, little more than engineering watch and a bridge watch were needed.  The revelry spread to three of the lounges, where holo vids, more music and more booze were added.  Card games, dice games and even a board game or two were broken out, all friendly of course.  The crew was having a good time but no one wanted a repeat of what their fellows had gone through with the Captain.

              The man himself made the rounds, had a few drinks, but he didn’t linger long in any one area.  He didn’t indulge in any of the games, though he did drop in on all of them just to show the flag a bit.  Everyone greeted him jovially, but no one mistook the message for anything but for what it was.  After he had wandered around, laughing, joking and conversing, he grabbed a carrier for six beers and a plate of food and headed back to the wardroom. 

              Upon his arrival, he was surprised to find Tamara already there, sitting at the table with a plate of cookies and a bottle of Sebetan Reserve Whiskey in front of her, a half empty glass in her hand.  She was watching a holo vid on one of the displays.  It appeared to be a song and dance number with a multitude of players in swirling, colorful outfits.  She looked up as he entered.

              “Captain!” she said, raising her glass in a toast.  “You want a cookie?”

              He chuckled.  “No thank you, Moxie.  I have a plate of my own right here,” he said, flicking his chin at it.  He set the beers and the food down on the table and took a seat two over from her.  “I’m surprised you’re not down at the party.  They’ve gotten quite wild and taken over several rooms.”

              Tamara snorted.  “I was there for a couple hours.  They’ve been going for almost six hours now.”

              He nodded.  “Yeah, I dropped in on them all, did the rounds.”

              “Not a man of the people, Captain?” she teased.

              He shrugged.  “I’m sure you know, but it’s different when you’re in charge.  I know a few captains who get really chummy with their crews.  It’s rather hard not to when you’re on the really small jobs, like the
Emilia Walker
.  But I’ve never been quite comfortable with that level of familiarity.”

              Tamara smiled at him slyly.  “Even with Taja?”

              He sighed, taking a forkful of food.  He savored the taste as he chewed and swallowed.  “Taja is different.”

              “Oh?” she asked, genuinely interested.  “How so?  She’s a member of your crew, same as the others.”

              “Of course she is.  And I don’t let her abuse the power her relationship with me gets her.  I’m sure she’s down at the party living it up with the rest of them.”  He took another bite.  “She and I have always been comfortable together.  Ever since she joined the crew.”

              “How long ago was that?”

              He paused to think, cracking open one of the bottles of beer.  “About eight years now.”  He smiled.  “Can’t believe it’s been that long.”

              “Though the good times and bad?”

              “Mostly bad,” he admitted, taking a drink.  “Seven lean years and seven even leaner years since I’ve been Captain of this ship.  But we’ve stuck by one another and I’d like to think we’re happy.”

              “You don’t know?” she asked, taking a sip of the whiskey.

              He twisted his mouth.  “I’m certainly happy with her, and I’d like to think she’d happy with me.  It’s the circumstances around us that aren’t always the greatest.  Haven’t made much profit in the last eight years.”

              “I’d like to think things have picked up a bit since I joined on,” Tamara said mildly.

              He shrugged, eating some more.  “A bit,” he said.  “Though I’d say we did only a little better than break even at Instow and Folston.  Had
no
profits at all in Hecate.”

              “Yes, but your ship is in far greater repair than you’ve ever had,” she pointed out.  “Hyperdrives, shields, hull, hell, I’ve even gotten you an AI.”

              “Of course,” he replied.  “And I’m immensely grateful for all that.  It’s certainly going to make things a lot better from now on.  The only problem is, we need some cash and we need it soon.”

              “Oh?”

              “We haven’t turned a serious profit in a very long time, Moxie,” he said with a sigh.  “I would really like this very long streak of bad luck to be over.”

              “I think we’ve turned a page here, Captain.”  She took another sip.  “Your idea for making parts and equipment to sell to the locals is a good one.  I think that coupled with the goods we have from Folston and we might fare better than normal in Kazyanenko.”

              “That is my sincere hope, Moxie,” he told her.  “I’m tired of running on a shoestring budget.  Your help with the replicators has been such a godsend for my ship and I think you and my teams have really turned things around.  Now, though, I want to see some gold in my coffers.”

              She raised her glass.  “I’ll drink to that, Captain.”  He raised his own beer bottle and they clinked them together.

              Taja entered the room as they were toasting, a huge grin on her face.  “What are we drinking to?” she asked, looking from one to the other.

              “To gold in the coffers,” Tamara told her.

              “Give me a beer,” Taja said, coming to stand behind her captain, sliding her hands on his shoulders.  He handed her one, taking one of her hands in his free one.  She squeezed his fingers with her smaller ones.  “That is
definitely
something I’ll drink to.”

              And within half an hour, a new party had started in the wardroom as more of the senior officers trickled in.  Quesh arrived with two bottles of brandy and what looked like an entire pan of casserole.  Ka’Xarian came in a few minutes later with a bowl of ku-resh and a small bucket of drink.  Turan showed up several minutes behind them with another pan filled with fried fish and a bucket of water. 

              Then Cookie arrived, with a box of fresh strawberries and a bottle of champagne.  “Well here you all are!”

              Tamara was the first to greet him.  “Cookie, you old reprobate!”  She bounded to her feet (a little unsteadily) and hustled over and relieved him of his goodies.  Then she planted a massive kiss full on his lips, which he happily returned.  The others made happy shouts and teasing “woos” at her forward behavior.