8 Collection Run
Ava stood at attention on the bridge, watching Zach guide the ship through a dense cluster of asteroids circling an immense moon that orbited an even larger gas giant in a system she had visited only once before: the Lioness System.
This was the second stop in their planned four-leap itinerary. It was common practice when a captain wanted to prevent their navigation from being traced back to a cache of goods or a secret base of operations.
Zach steered the ship gracefully among the variously sized space rocks. The ship’s systems officer, Sawyer Gates, idly scanned the surrounding asteroids for rare elements. If any were valuable enough to capture and bring aboard for resale, Sawyer would reach out to Kane for approval to deploy Team B, who stood ready to secure them and guide them back to the main vessel.
The cargo bay was locked down, and the cargo airlocks were primed and ready to receive anything promising found in the scans.
Kane liked to use asteroid belts or gas clouds to obscure travel. He had trained Zach to enter a field traveling in one direction, then alter course at a right angle once deep inside, exiting in an unpredictable direction.
This had the added benefit of creating an explainable charted course. As a salvage ship, the
9Lives
would be expected to search for salvage, so there was nothing unusual about the maneuver.
“I think we have several. Nothing high-profile, but there is value, and the ones I’ve highlighted won’t require cutting. Just collection and delivery. The ones highlighted blue are in our path,” Sawyer said as he turned toward her.
Ava nodded, remembering that she was Kane right now. Her father had delegated the bridge to her. He had been summoned by Chief Engineer Isaac Buseman to review the scans Curry had been compiling.
Ava was relieved that Kane had not sent her. She was trying to keep as much of the ship as possible between herself and Curry for now. She had encountered him twice since the attempted apology a week earlier. Each time, it felt as though he were watching her, studying her, and she was uncomfortable with it.
He spent most of his time in engineering or the cargo bay with the artifact. She had recently seen him from the upper catwalks, sitting against the artifact. It was the strangest thing. He would sit or lean against it, then jump up to look at his instruments before running a hand through his too-long hair and sitting or leaning again, only for longer or with greater force.
Ava had watched him, openmouthed, for longer than she cared to admit before wandering back to her cabin to rest.
She was baffled by that strange little man.
“B Team, acquisitions selected. Targeting data is being transmitted now,” Ava said into her comm.
She wore her suit and helmet, freshly tuned, charged, and polished. Whatever errors her system had experienced were gone. She felt secure in her armored carapace.
The suit allowed her access to the same data feeds B Team would be seeing and let her communicate with them freely without allowing those on the bridge to hear. Ava had practiced extensively to control her helmet comms with flicks of her eyes across a series of channels that controlled the output destination. She could speak directly into a comm channel, to a particular person, or across an open channel to all ship-connected comms. Her suit also had external audio output, allowing ordinary conversation when she wished.
Being relegated to the suit meant she was better protected, and even though her body still ached, her movements were more stable and controlled. The suit also added its strength to her own. It was not an overarmored power suit used by many military and paramilitary organizations, but with its help, she could lift twice as much as she normally could.
Right now, it merely helped lift her legs and arms without straining them.
Ava turned toward Sawyer. “Send the targets. Just the ones in our path.”
Then she spoke to Team A over comms. “Team A, more targets than one shuttle can handle. Suit up and deploy for reception and loading. Ethan, take lead.”
She combined the broadcast channels to include both teams.
“B Team will capture and retrieve. Team A will receive and load. Targets are labeled in order of retrieval. Updates will be transmitted as needed. Get to it, boys.”
Ava switched broadcast channels again.
“Stanley and Arch, suit up and deploy to support Quinn in the cargo bay.”
Then she switched again.
“Quinn, Shelly, I’m sending the techs down to assist with reception. We have—”
She second-guessed herself and glanced at the data in her visor HUD before continuing.
“Sixteen viable rocks. Sending data down now. Suits on, helmets locked if they aren’t already.”
She heard a chorus of affirmative responses. She mentally checked off that everyone she had contacted had answered. Sawyer, still working the sensors, gave her a thumbs-up.
As systems officer, he managed the ship’s sensors and comms. He was privy to every conversation that occurred using the ship’s systems. No private conversation could ever truly be expected to remain private. It was all logged and reviewed by Systems Officer Sawyer Gates, Captain Kane Summers, and the ship’s AI, then stored in perpetuity within the AI core.
Quinn Bruening, the ship’s cargo master, would review the data screen and direct Shelly to collect the appropriate containment crates for each element they were bringing aboard. The data sheet would break down each rock by elemental composition, size, and shape. Quinn would decide what tools needed to be on hand to break up the rocks or whether they could fit neatly inside existing crates.
Heavy-duty grav dollies waited on standby, locked to the bulkhead until needed. They would be released and staged near the hold’s two airlock doors. Deliveries from Team A would alternate between the two to prevent delays between drop-offs.
The goal was to avoid reducing the
9Lives’
current cruising speed, which was already severely diminished by the need to navigate around obstacles as it wove through the field.
“Cargo,” Quinn said over comms. “We will be ready to receive in less than a minute. Most are hard metals or alloys. Shelly is fetching empty water crates from below for the two ice cubes on the list. Overall, a solid haul.”
“Understood. Thank you, Quinn,” Ava said as she turned back toward the viewing screen.
The bridge had a large display that wrapped around the circumference of the room, allowing an uninterrupted 360-degree view. It was a holo projection controlled by Cap’n.
There was also a viewing portal about three feet wide directly in front of the pilot’s chair in case of an absolute emergency, but it was not something the pilot relied on for navigation.
Zach wore a half helm that covered his eyes. It was a piloting helmet that allowed a full, unobstructed view of everything outside the ship. It reconstructed everything the ship itself could perceive through cameras and sensors. If the ship was aware of it, Zach could see it.
Ava had tried the helm before but had not worn it for long before becoming motion sick and removing it.
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Zach had laughed and said, “Can’t replace me that easily.”
Kane and Sawyer were the only other people aboard with any tolerance for the helmet system, as far as Ava knew. If push came to shove, she would rather trust the ship’s shackled AI to pilot than attempt it herself.
“B Team,
Cat’s Eye
ready for launch,” Alex’s voice came over comms. “First target, estimated two minutes. Team A copy?”
“Team A copies. Ready for launch. Good luck, B Team,” Ethan answered.
“Bridge,” Ava said over an open channel. “
Cat’s Eye
on three.
Cat’s Paw
on six. One, two, three.”
An indicator showed that B Team’s shuttle had disengaged and was speeding toward the first target.
“Four, five, six.”
The
Cat’s Paw
disengaged from the
9Lives
.
Ava felt a pang of anxiety at not being aboard, but she trusted her team. She trusted Ethan. She forced down her uneasiness as she watched the shuttle—her shuttle—position itself to receive the first payload.
The collection was uneventful.
All sixteen hunks of rock and elemental material were captured and positioned along the projected path of the
9Lives
, where the
Cat’s Paw
intercepted them and delivered them to whichever airlock was ready to receive them.
The cargo team, with the help of the two technicians, quickly positioned the rocks on grav dollies and pulled them into the hold before sealing the airlock and venting its atmosphere back into the recycler to avoid losing too much precious gas.
A ship the size of the
9Lives
was designed for exactly this kind of work. Its airlocks forced breathable atmosphere back into the ship before opening their outward doors to the void. As soon as those doors were sealed again after receiving a new delivery from the
Cat’s Paw
, the airlock filled once more.
The cargo crew and technicians wore suits as a precaution, not a necessity.
Kane had once told Ava that safety regulations were rules written with the blood of dead men.
Stanley had told her that more than once, but always added, “If there is time.”
The
Cat’s Paw
and
Cat’s Eye
worked well together, and only slight adjustments were needed. When the
Cat’s Eye
retrieved an asteroid before the
Paw
was ready to receive it, B Team slowed its pace to prevent a possible collision with the
9Lives
until Team A gave the go-ahead.
Quinn and Shelly would need some time, but they should have a full estimate of market value ready by the time Kane retook the bridge from Ava.
The
9Lives
had a good-sized ore processor. The asteroids could be broken down into chunks and fed through the processor to be sorted by element or alloy and repackaged for easier sale. Some buyers did not care whether they were dealing in rare elements, industrial diamonds, reclaimed salvage from derelict ships, or artifacts from old civilizations.
The engineers would be tasked with ensuring the processor ran smoothly, but Quinn and Shelly would load and empty it to make certain no inventory was lost during processing.
The two shuttles had now rejoined the ship, and the crews were beginning their post-mission equipment checks. The shuttles had been scanned by the ship’s systems, reported fully functional, and begun automatically refueling after docking.
Ava let out a breath and removed her helmet. Her suit sensed the release and automatically routed any communications through her external speakers.
“Good job, everyone,” she said, addressing the bridge.
Zach remained focused on guiding the ship through the final stretch of the asteroid field but raised a fist into the air. Sawyer nodded in acknowledgment but remained absorbed in his screens, instruments, and likely the constant comm chatter from the teams below.
Ava realized she was simply standing there with her helmet in hand, watching the vid screen. Asteroids passed by, none close enough to threaten the path Zach had chosen.
Soon, they would reach the edge of the field and begin translating for the next leap.
Their next destination was a known and well-traveled system with two inhabited planets and a large, well-maintained space station. The sector was a common stop for salvagers and merchant vessels traveling through the space between patrolled regions.
It lay too far from the influence of either the Dominance or First Founding’s established borders. It was a void no power could fill without presenting a threat to the other.
The Astrid System, their next leap location, was like an oasis for those traveling between the major factions and had become a massive hub of commerce. Spacers could gain access there to goods normally sold only within faction systems.
There was a local government and checkpoints for ships traveling inward toward the space stations or either inhabited world, Astar and Astoon. If a ship arrived and remained along the outskirts of the system, it could avoid the checkpoints while still benefiting from the protection the system provided.
Piracy was heavily monitored and deterred anywhere near the Astrid System.
It was simply good for business, Ava mused as she reasoned through the choice of their next destination.
Ava allowed herself to step back and ease into the captain’s chair. It was worn and comfortable. It had not been worn through use by Kane, who was almost always on his feet. The chair had not originally belonged to this ship but was instead a replacement Kane installed after procuring the vessel.
Something about a bet with an old friend was all Kane had ever explained.
The chair was made partly of metal and partly of wood. Ava had not seen many things made from wood, but she had been told this was not ordinary wood. It was rare and valuable, with a red hue and lines running through the exposed portions.
Stanley, who made a point of polishing the chair with a can of oil purchased specifically for the purpose, had told her those lines were called grain. Each represented a year of the tree’s life as it grew in layers.
Ava had, of course, seen trees. She had been down to the surface of Alswell, the inhabited moon in her home system of Antola. She had seen its beaches, forests, and mountains.
It unsettled her.
Beautiful, she thought, but unnatural.
Ava had been born on the Antola asteroid in the Antola System, originally designated Antola 3 by the mining company that surveyed it. All the asteroids had been named in the same fashion.
Antola 3 was the largest asteroid in the belt, with rich mineral deposits and close access to several slightly smaller asteroids of considerable mineral wealth. Once the mining company established an installation and began ferrying in miners, refiners, loaders, and builders, the asteroid was renamed simply Antola.
All the others dropped the first part of their names and were referred to only by number.
Antola had a population in the tens of thousands. Well over half worked for the Carenton Mining Company. Most of the population would be considered permanent residents, many having been born on station, though some were recruited from the company’s home system of Gareth, its sole habitable world, or from Alswell, Gareth’s moon.
Ava traced her gloved hand across the glossy wooden armrests and pressed back into the firm but padded chair. The leather creaked as she adjusted.
The chair was much more comfortable than it looked.
“Ava,” Zach called.
Ava sat up and leaned forward.
“Yes?”
“Requesting green light to make leap,” Zach said.
“Request granted,” Ava responded.
Zach spoke into his helmet comm, and she heard his voice come over the ship’s loudspeakers.
“Bridge, entering leap in ten.”
Instead of continuing the count himself, Cap’n’s voice took over.
“Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one.”
After one, the ship shuddered. It was not enough to violently throw Ava from the chair, but a week earlier it might have caused her to lose her balance. Now, she likely would have remained on her feet even without holding on for dear life.
The vid screen blinked off and would not return until they translated back into realspace.
“Ava.”
This time it was Sawyer.
“Yes?” Ava asked.
“The captain is requesting your presence in engineering. Sounds important,” he explained.
“When is it not? Zach, the bridge is yours.”
Ava stood and strode from the bridge, stepping down from the command platform and through the bridge doors onto the upper main corridor.
The ship was quiet while in leap. Most departments used the transit time to catch up on maintenance, paperwork, or whatever tasks had accumulated between salvage operations.
It gave the ship a different rhythm than when underway in normal space.
Purposeful, but unhurried.