and sent it to his fighter. “Calling everyone else in behind you. I'm setting a patrol of one squadron that's finishing their rest cycle.”
“All right, I'll visit the bridge when I can get free.”
Oz stepped down from the platform and invited deck Chief Vercelli to take his place. “Sorry Chief, I know his stats were fine but I need Ronin to have enough energy left to take care of house keeping when he gets back aboard.”
“I've been around the Flight deck long enough to know a Wing Commander spends half his time flying a desk. I have to tell you, this flight control deck is something else. It makes it a lot easier to follow what's going on and make decisions. I see you have some pretty fierce training though, you make running things look easy.”
“I've had a lot of training and experience on a couple carriers. You're right though, these systems are so easy to run my five year old niece could operate them.”
“I liked your choices here today. I think we're going to get on well.”
“Thanks Chief. Tell me if anything interesting comes up.”
“Will do.”
Passing from the flight control deck with the constant chatter of two dozen operators, coordinators, tactical officers and technicians to the bridge was like going from one world to another. The combat stations on the bridge were nearly silent, calmly maintaining systems, keeping aware of changing conditions as fighters landed and took off and monitoring the exterior situation. Jason had joined the three communications officers at their stations, where they monitored local transmissions and directed the screening of the massive quantity of data they'd downloaded earlier.
“Captain Valance reports completion of a full sensor sweep on the Palamo. Five other ships have surrendered. Chief Vega reports that she's finished her sweep of the station and the injured are being loaded onto the Cold Reaver. She's attached a communications device to a structural support, hoping that we can use it to get through to the survivors,” Agameg Price reported from the Captain's chair as he stood and made his way back to the lead tactical terminal.
“Thank you Lieutenant. Did the Captain have any directions for us?”
“He said he'd be finished checking the viability of the Palamo in the next half hour but it doesn't look good. The initial scan is at the top of the command log.” Agameg smiled and checked in with his own subordinate who had much less to report.
“Right above this message from Chief Frost called; 'All dressed up for nothin.'” Oz shook his head and called up the report on the Palamo.
“Frost can be a little,” Agameg hesitated a moment, considering his choice of words carefully. “Abrasive. He's very good at his job though.”
“So I hear,” Oz nodded as he looked at the slowly turning three dimensional view of the Palamo. “Now that's an old carrier,” he muttered. Its rectangular hull looked like the decks were roughly stacked atop each other. The power plants and landing bays were easily distinguishable, like the design was modular at one time but the parts had grown together as time wore on and repairs were made. “I can see why he doesn't think it's worth salvaging. One bay is completely compromised, there are about thirty compartments open to space and the reactors are cold.”
“Do you think Captain is looking to take on another carrier? There's the Viscount's Pride as well, though it doesn't look as well crewed and it's in much worse condition than the Palamo.”
Oz thought for a moment, looking at the old carrier. He could picture it in its day, some government had paid billions of dollars to put into service, most likely over a hundred years before. What he was seeing was a carrier made for extremely long range combat. Its strength was in its fighters. Some of the old, scorched launch ports had been sealed or patched over, and they obviously used one of the broad decks to launch their various fighters. They had added large exterior holds, throwing the vessel off balance and one of the landing decks had been refitted to launch guided missiles. “If he is, this isn't the one he'd want. Besides, we'd need a whole other crew and we're just getting the hang of the Triton.” He looked to Agameg, who was watching him as though he was soaking in every word, taking in every mannerism. “What do you think? Would the Captain Valance you know want to expand his fleet?”
“Oh, no. I wouldn't know for certain in any case, he doesn't confide in me,” Agameg sounded almost startled, turning his attention back to his station.
“Well, if these smaller ships are in any kind of salvageable condition he might keep them. We have the room.”
“That would be likely, especially considering the condition of the Samson.”
“You've been down to see it?”
“Yes, it's sad seeing it in such disrepair.”
“You're telling me,” Ashley added from the helm. Her controls were locked, there was little to do other than watch proximity and ensure they were holding position. “I couldn't help but get a little weepy when I saw all our stuff lined up in little piles. It's like I didn't realize Captain might scrap the ship until I saw he had our kits cleared out. Then, that's been happening a lot lately.” she said quietly.
“What's that, Ashley?”
“Me getting weepy. I guess it's just with everything changing. It's been like that for months, but then you just got here so-”
“Don't worry, things will level out, at least for a while,” Oz reassured her with a little smile.
“You think?”
“I know. I was in the service a long time, you get a sense of when a crew starts finding their rhythm and I think we're there.”
Ashley smiled back at him and nodded. “Hope you're right. Maybe I could get a couple days off.”
“I think we could all use a couple days.”
Ayan strode onto the bridge and sat down beside Oz. She nodded at him curtly as she transferred her connection with Security Chief Vega to the command display. She was affixing another antenna wire to an exposed part of the station superstructure beside the thick interior door. “Perfect. Sorry I led you to the wrong connection before,” Ayan apologized.
“You couldn't have known that support had been destroyed further in. I'm just glad Ronin took a more detailed scan,” Stephanie replied.
“Have you seen life support systems on your way through?”
“They're fried as far as I can tell. Looked like someone hit them with a small explosive.”
“All right, watch your team's power levels. With your gravity compensation packages you will only have a few hours of power. You'll have to return to the Cold Reaver to recharge if you start getting low.”
“I have been, thank you Commander. I'll hold position here with a squad just in case they open the doors and feel like talking.”
“Good, contact me if anything comes up.” She turned to the communication station, where Jason and his officers directed the efforts of many more technicians in the intelligence office. “Start broadcasting a hail to the people inside please. Emphasize that we've forced the surrender of the raiders, identify us as the Free Carrier Triton.”
“Yes Ma'am,” Cynthia replied.
Oz looked Ayan up and down. It was the first time he'd seen her in a Triton uniform. “Black looks good on you,” he whispered.
“What?” she looked down. “Oh, thank you. Feels pretty familiar actually. I'm just glad they're thicker than Freeground uniforms, even without the armour plating.”
“Have you tried the plating?”
Ayan nodded. “I took mine off before returning to the bridge. Moves really well but it'll take a while to get used to.”
“Don't think Jake will want you on an excursion team? Agameg and I were just talking and I think we agree that he'll want to keep a few of those smaller ships. There are two more thirty meter ones landing right now.”
“I can't see why not. Whole lot of work waiting to happen though.”
“I think the deck crews are up to it.”
“The deck crews? I'd think an engineering team would be more appropriate. They're not starfighters, the
