What awaited him was an ancient, bulbous, relic that had seen too many jumps into the unknown. Jolo thought it was a joke at first, tried to look around it as if surely there was another boat in the hangar and this old eyesore was just in the way. But no such luck. His father put his hand on the fuselage and beamed. Though he backtracked a little when he saw Jolo scratching his head.
“I know. I know, it is a bit old,” he said.
“Will it make a jump without flying apart?” said Jolo, putting his hand on one of the lower stabilizers, there mainly for atmospheric flight, he supposed, then brushed his dust covered hand on his pants.
“Jolo. Look at her. Do you not remember?” pleaded his father, eyes now serious and sad.
Jolo wanted to remember. He reached back into the void that was his distant past and tried to pull up any shred of memory. But nothing. He shook his head.
“What is it?” he said.
“It’s a Gunship class boat called the Argossy made a long time ago by Helley Lohas Shipbuilders,” said his father. And before he could continue, Jolo had already pulled up the specs on his internal computer. First created on the second worlds after the Final War. Carbonite outer shell, resistant to both energy and projectile weapons. Projectile weapons? thought Jolo, no one’s going to be throwing rocks at us.
“This ship will always bring you home, Jolo. It was made by some of the early boat builders, back when craftmanship mattered. Back when a ship had to withstand more than energy weapons. You’ve flown it before.”
The crew was equally skeptical, especially Katy and Greeley. Of course the oldest crew member, Hurley, loved it. He remembered the stories of Lohas Gunship captains tearing through waves of pirate Nevosi boats when he was a child. The old ship had been retrofitted with a pair of ion cannons which made her armaments nearly equal that of the Jessica. And Hurley joked that as a last resort you could just ram into an enemy boat and rip it in half because the Argossy was built in the old way. So it wasn't as nimble as some of the newer ships but strength and range more than made up for it.
Most Lohas Gunships did transport escort duty back in the days before the Federation. And the ship had an old-school transport ship look about it. So Jolo and the crew, waiting in orbit in Malifa 4, did not arouse suspicion from Federation or BG ships. The ion cannons were retractable, partially hidden in an alacyte cover which made the old Argossy appear even that much more innocuous. To most, it was just an old transport boat and no one paid her much mind. And sitting out in Malifa 4, deep in Fed space, this thought gave Jolo some comfort. They couldn’t have come in the Jessica, even if she were still in one piece.
Taking the trash hauler should be easy, thought Jolo. His only worry were the stream of luxury boats jumping through Malifa. It’d be one thing if they were heading to the Corsair in Iris, but these appeared to be leaving from Iris.
He adjusted in his chair, and even though the old leather squeaked under his weight, it held him comfortably, his hands on the cold stainless steel arm rests. And his mind went back to the task at hand. The Federation didn’t give much thought to protecting the dirty, slow refuse boats that were ungainly and unresponsive with even the lightest load. The only tricky part was pinpointing exactly where it would pop up once it broke orbit. But that, too, had proven a simple matter once Marco produced the Federation work orders.
And sure enough, the Federation refuse hauler C43 popped into Malifa 4 orbit precisely at 9:42 AM. And Jolo Vargas and the old Argossy were waiting.
Jolo had Katy position the Argossy directly in front of the huge hauler.
“I’m here for your ship,” said Jolo over the comm, leaning back in his new captain’s chair. He had to admit, the old seat was firmer, and softer in the right places, than the Jessica’s Fed issue vinylite chair that made his legs sore.
The old trash boat captain laughed. “In that?” he said, and continued to wind up his engines for the jump to Iris.
“Koba, show him the guns,” said Jolo. The two ion cannons popped out and suddenly the Argossy wasn’t just a transport anymore. For good measure, Jolo fired a shot over the hauler’s right thruster, close enough for the old C43 to raise shields.
And now Jolo laughed into the comm. “Next time I won’t miss. If you attempt to reach Fed HQ in Sol you’ll be dead before they respond,” said Jolo.
The captain of the refuse ship was no hero, and who could blame him. He was on the low end of the Federation pay grade and he never actually had been trained on how to defend against a pirate attack. No pirate had ever thought to commandeer a trash boat. So soon, Jolo and Katy were in the tiny cockpit of the hauler, with Greeley and George in the empty, yet pungent, cargo hold. The captain of the smelly boat had gotten riled up when Jolo told him to climb into the tiny escape pod, but he sucked in his gut and latched himself in when he realized the other option was infiltrating the Corsair, an act of high treason.
……
"How do I look," said Katy, just before they jumped into Iris. All Federation work crew had to wear regulation coveralls. Again, Marco had proven most resourceful, outfitting Jolo and Katy with Federation trash hauler uniforms. Greeley and George were sporting dapper Federation
