Convoy (The Shelby Logan Chronicles Book 1) Page 6
The ship needed a good refit, a turning out. Her appearance made her wonder about other things, like her critical systems. If they skimped on the basics that you could see …. She shook her head, attempting to force herself to relax. It wasn't her problem. Unless it became a problem.
It said something too about the crew, like they were going through the motions. On her first evening on board, she heard loose talk about the ship possibly being haunted from a waiter. She dismissed the idea of course; it was just an excuse to fit the vibe of the ship and explain why the crew wasn't putting in the extra effort to keep on top of things as they should. They weren't trying since corporate wasn't investing in them most likely; she picked up on that at the bar. She didn't envy the ship's officers; undoubtedly, they had a hard time keeping up with morale on the ship. Turnover … she shook herself as she sat back on her bar stool. It wasn't her problem.
From time to time, she saw a familiar face. Those who recognized her out of uniform would smile politely, then go on their way. She did the same. When she got bored of the bar scene, she checked out all the “haunts” on the ship, including the dance clubs and recreation areas. She even took a dip in the pool, but the large number of people threw her off and made her leave after a few minutes.
“They sure do pack them in,” she murmured, noting the people laying out on chairs or saddles under UV lamps and a simulated sun. There were row upon rows of them around the pool.
Again, though she ran into a bit of shagginess here and there, a few things that needed to be fixed. Marks around buttons and doors, sticking hinges or doors, a lift that had been out of order for months. She shook her head as she made her way through the ship.
Her cabin was sparse, not much to look at. It was billed as a suite, but it was tiny, three meters by four meters with a small bathroom. At least she didn't have to share the bath, though the chrome on the fixtures was shot. So was the tile, some of it had come off. She shook her head.
It came down to credits she thought as she readied herself for bed. You needed to invest money to make money. The owners needed to spend money on a refit and lose money as the ship was in dock out of service.
She laid back on the bed and replayed what she'd seen as a way to get herself to relax and fall asleep. Others would be out in the bar, hitting on each other or the dance clubs or blowing their earnings in one of the casinos. Or in the virtual reality decks she'd heard about but had yet to explore.
She frowned and cradled the pillow as she tried to relax. She'd overheard a few people blame the ship's lackluster appearance on the navy for the cheap fixings and not being willing to foot the bill for better ones or a refit. It soured her mood slightly, making her toss and turn in her sleep before she brought up some hyperspace calculations. Running the numbers helped to focus her in some ways, but it also bored her enough to let Morpheus finally slip her mind into a more relaxed state and then into slumber.
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Wraith clone X49 noted the presence of Captain Logan. It had issued the free three-day pass to the crew in order to broaden its expansion plans and quite possibly infiltrate a copy of itself into the Tau mission. Twice it tried to infiltrate the captain's implants—when she first logged into the ship and when she jacked into a virtual simulator. Her firewall was powerful so the A.I. backed off, considering the attempts a failure. It withdrew from the attempt and changed tactics. Instead, it spread chunks of its code by embedding it into the pictures and video taken of her and other passengers by the ship's photographers. The ship made a nice profit by selling such video material to the passengers. It did pick up some signatures from the officers and enlisted, even a few passwords when they logged into the network to check their mail. Such information would be useful to further infiltrate the military network in the future.
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On the second day on board, Shelby had a buffet lunch. It was a different experience for her; she was used to eating alone or in a small group, not in a massive dining room. The din was not something she appreciated, nor the squalling of kids and hungover parents. She managed to finish her breakfast quickly, then take a chance to hit the ship's gym for a brief workout. She returned to her quarters for a shower and change of clothes, then bit the bullet and visited the casino deck.
She made her way through the mall, the long passage through the ship that was open to several decks above. Those decks were open with balconies and the occasional pedestrian bridge connecting them. To the uninitiated it was a vast space, and she did appreciate it after being stuck in some of the bowels of the ship. But she was used to being in a ship so although it impressed her, as did some of the shops, it wasn't the experience she was after. She continued to follow the signs more than the map she'd downloaded of the ship to the casino.
The din from the machinery made her cringe the moment she entered the large compartment as did the flashing lights. It was morning, the quiet time, so if this was when it was mild she made a vow not to visit in the evening when it was busy. Still she walked around and checked out the various games of chance. There were a lot of slot machines near the doors; she disdained them. She visited an ATM for chips, then played a couple games of chance and sipped a drink to check out a few of the patrons. One guy looked interesting … right up until his partner came over, gave him a long kiss. That cooled her off instantly.
When she got bored with the casino, she went back to wandering the halls. She had to admit the look of the wood and brass was nice. There was some elegance to the ship, it just needed a turning out. A few of the passenger seating areas had nice thick plush carpet … where it wasn't worn down by foot traffic. She didn't even want to think about the bugs that might be lurking in-between the threads.
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Wraith Clone X49 thought it could penetrate the captain's implants with a copy of the ship's map, but it appeared she had either downloaded a copy off the ship or was following the signs. She did not seem to have an itinerary so it was difficult to anticipate her movements. Nor did she jack in to the casino to transfer funds as expected. Her brief use of the ATM was in a moment when the A.I. was monitoring other personnel; by the time it had realized its opportunity, she had disengaged her jack and the window of opportunity had closed.
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Shelby was supposed to have a formal dinner with the bridge officers. She noted the people doing photo ops in the corridors leading to the dining room. She however wasn't interested in dressing up; she hadn't brought a gown and wasn't interested in wearing her formal uniform even if she'd brought it with her. Nor did she care to shop in the boutiques on the ship, though they did have some nice clothing, though too exorbitantly priced for her tastes.
Instead she took dinner in a smaller dining room and then checked out the karaoke bar. The antics of some of the passengers trying to sing was fun, but many couldn't hold a tune to save their life. When she became bored with that, she tuned them out and turned her attention to the media reports.
News from the front seemed to be popular on the media network in the bar. She watched it until they started to repeat the cycle, then paid her tab with some of her leftover chips and then left to wander the ship.
There were a lot of games, some simulators, even a few military recruiting posters. She was amused by them. She checked out the two movie theaters, amused that they were on board. She noted a long line of people interested in exploring VR but she was not really into it. She made a puttering sound and then got out of the way of a family as they giggled and played with each other as they made their way through the ship.
]][#]]]{OO}===}==>
Wraith clone X49 noted another opportunity to infiltrate an officer's network; this one the XO of Prometheus when she came on board with another officer. It sent a bot to nibble around the user's firewall masquerading as the ship's electronic security. It noted that the firewall was too dangerous to penetrate; any attempt to get through it with brute force would cause an alarm. It decided
that its energies were best refocused on attempting to penetrate the enlisted personnel's firewalls. After several additional attempts, the A.I. retreated stymied.
It was clear that the enemy had adapted to it somehow. It analyzed its failures and set aside processor time to simulate the changes in the enemy's hardware and software and how best to defeat them.
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Shelby noted Cynthia on board with Vlad and smiled to them, but they were too busy to notice her. By the look of bemusement on Vlad's face and the way Cynthia was dragging him by the arm, they were headed to the dance club. She snorted. She was tempted to join them, but her XO's possessiveness put the damper on that. Or, she thought, it made her not want to put a damper on their fun, she corrected herself.
Instead, she checked out some of the sights on the ship. They had added a pod to the ship's rides, something she hadn't believed until she'd actually seen it. Passengers loaded into the thing through an airlock, then a robotic arm lifted it up and away, then swiveled it around the ship, even moving it out away from the ship. “Ma'am, do you want to go? The line starts over there,” a chimera crewman said helpfully, pointing to a long line.
Shelby shook her head and put her hands up. “Not me.”
“Oh. Agoraphobic? I know it isn't for everyone,” the crewman said.
“No, I get enough of space as it is. I was just curious,” Shelby said as she watched the pod rotate on the arm, then return to the docking port slowly.
“Ah. Well, please don't block the way for other patrons,” the crewman said. She dutifully moved to stand against the wall, out of the way but across from the tall window so she could see. She watched the show for two more times before she got bored with it and went on to other things. She'd heard the ship had zero-gee rooms too. That might be interesting, she thought.
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The third day dawned virtually for Shelby with a gentle reminder to be checked out before 10 a.m. from the vid screen in the room. She stretched and then packed. She noted as she packed that the ship hadn't made any stops. She'd really just gone out a distance, then turned around and come back. They could have gone past the gas giants, gone to some of the colonies, but no, they'd just gone in and out. She wondered how far they'd actually gone out. The ship may not have even gone out at all; the ship might have conserved fuel and just drifted near the station.
She frowned, then shrugged. Not her concern she reminded herself as she put her day uniform on. She refused to change again once they were in port. She also refused to pay the fees they charged for room service or laundry service. They were ridiculous she thought.
One thing she hadn't seen were the crew areas she thought as she stood in line patiently for the checkout. From what she'd heard from the prize crew who had been on board her in B101a1, the ship had been outfitted with some sick stuff, dungeons, and the like. Obviously, the new owners had cleaned all that out. But what of the crew passageways and quarters? Those were not meant to be seen by the passengers of course, but were they bad she wondered? Worse? She shook her head and put the thought aside as the line moved forward by a single party.
Chapter 4
Shelby grimaced as she read the latest email from Commander Garretaj. She was to report to Admiral Subert before she had time to report back on board her ship.
She stuffed her duffel in a locker and then went over the latest download of the mission brief on the shuttle before her meeting with the brass. Not much had changed about the orders since she'd been on leave and that bothered her. Apparently, people were distracted by the events in and around Protodon. She understood that, but the staffs should have had something on file, right? Boiler plate she could work with. Details were noticeably absent.
Based on the mission outline, she was going to need more than just her ship and escorts. A tanker she knew. Some of the mission parameters were vague to the point of useless. She knew that they'd have to adapt since they weren't certain what they were getting into but … Shelby requested additional information as she read the brief once more, looking for something, anything, a nugget she might have overlooked. A link … but nothing jumped out at her. She took notes and then talked to Admiral Subert and a few of his staff about the mission when she entered the room.
“Admiral,” she said as she came to attention. He waved to her to take a seat. She sat next to Commander Ch'n'x and Commander Garretaj. “I see the orders haven't changed. I was hoping for a bit more details to be honest,” she said, deciding to start the ball rolling right off.
The admiral grunted. “You and me both,” he muttered before he settled himself.
“We'll be firming up your orders up as we go. We still have plenty of time before the mission is a go,” Commander Ch'n'x stated. “I imagine long drawn-out conferences between here and Antigua to do that. The final mission details will have to be planned carefully. And of course, there are the problems with the war front. That takes priority,” the Veraxin stated.
“Definitely,” Admiral Subert growled.
Shelby nodded. “Yes, sir, I realize that. But knowing some things in advance means we can start planning for them now, not last minute. Some things need that much of a lead time if we're going to successfully achieve them,” she warned.
“I know. It isn't me. The outline came from on high. I'll talk to Admiral Irons again about it in the future,” the admiral said flatly. From his tone, she knew she was pushing him into a corner, and he resented it.
Shelby pursed her lips, weighing if she should continue before the admiral's set expression sunk in. Finally, she nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“You did point out you need more support than your ship and escorts,” Commander Ch'n'x said, turning two of her four eyestalks to the captain. “Did you get beyond that?”
“Well, as it happens some,” Shelby said as she pulled her tablet out from under her arm and crossed her legs. “I know we're going to need a tanker and enough warships for the anti-piracy patrols, plus secure the base and convoy. They'll have to be able to make the long jumps. Also, the surgeon general has put in a request for us to make medical aide a priority. That will require more than the facilities on Prometheus, most likely the services of one or more dedicated hospital ships …”
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Shelby rescued her duffel from the locker when the meeting had concluded. She wasn't certain how it had gone over with the three officers. It was hard to read the Veraxin, but she could tell something was up. She shouldered her bag and then walked through the corridors to her ship.
When she arrived, she was nonplussed at what she found. First, there was a robot acting as the port side guard. That alone sent off alarm bells, but she knew a lot of the crew was on liberty. When she made her way through the gangway tunnel and came onboard Ensign Prometheus was the officer on the deck.
“We're down a bit on hands, ma'am,” the ensign said as she saluted the colors, then exchanged salutes with him.
“I see that,” she said as lights came on leading to her quarters. “Someone forget to pay the power bill?” she quipped as she made her way to her quarters to stow her gear.
“The power plants are offline as you know. BuShips has been on me about the power draw.”
“And repairs?”
“Are nearly at a standstill, ma'am. We are low man on the totem pole as the expression goes,” the A.I. stated.
“I see,” the captain said as she realized the ship was practically deserted. “Is anyone here at all?” she demanded.
“We have only a skeletal watch left of the crew, ma'am,” the A.I. replied as she opened her quarters and tossed her duffel inside then went to her office. He sent her the latest crew report as she walked.
Shelby grimaced as she stepped over a knee knocker and read the report at the same time. Apparently, the rest were on liberty or had fallen prey to the head hunters in BUPERS. She found out she'd lost some of the personnel while she'd been on leave, others she had known she was going to lose. The emails
informing her of the most recent transfers were dutifully logged in her inbox, but there was something wrong with poaching her crew while she and her XO were out.
She did admit privately that some had deserved the transfer. Some of the personnel had been promoted, a few those had been long overdue, and they'd reluctantly departed the ship. She knew they deserved the stalled promotions, and they were off spreading what they'd learned to others in the growing navy.
Through sheer force of will, she had managed to retain Cynthia as her XO. Cynthia herself was a part of that effort; she'd been informed that BUPERS had wanted her to take a stint as an engineer of a fortress and what she had thought of it. Cynthia's old slot as chief engineer was temporarily empty until someone in BUPERS could fill the void.
There was one small spark of good news in the mix. A few of the outgoing personnel were destined to take up positions in other ships attached to her task force, or so she'd been soothingly told by Lieutenant Strongbirth.
Which was another thing. The mission plan had expanded despite the mess on the war front. She was going to get secondary units, perhaps one EC but no capital ships. They were still trying to decide if she was going to be under Third Fleet or a new command. She was leaning to a new stand up command, having a year or more time between her and Pyrax was not what she wanted to put up with. And having Admiral Subert micromanage her through the ansible was not conducive to her sleep.
But the expansion of the mission plan meant her task force was growing and growing. She was starting to feel a bit alarmed and overwhelmed by the scale.