"Is this right? Ayan struck a deal with Patrizia Salustri?" Stephanie demanded as she arrived on the bridge of the Samson. "The last time we dealt with that crazy bitch, we ended up chasing royalty straight into Chinbotsu Prison! I still have an outstanding warrant for that!"
The creaking of the deck underfoot and the sounds of the thrusters trying to keep the ship level invaded the cabin. "We were very well paid. Besides, we don't have a choice. We've already lost one ship to customs, if we stay here, we're going to lose another," he replied from the pilot's seat.
Stephanie didn't recognize Jake's copilot, but Finn was at the engineering station, trying to direct crew people across the ship to reinforce stress points. The trouble started when they tried to dislodge the Samson from the muck it had sunk into, but the hull was brittle thanks to previous combat damage. The only way to hold the hull together was to get it off the ground and use her thrusters and emergency integrity systems, which were failing in some areas according to Finn's yellow and red flashing screen.
She shook her concerns for the ship off and pressed her point; "You should have sent me out. All she got out of the Carthans is a standard privateering agreement. Any green outfit could have walked in and gotten set up with the contract we're on now. We have experience, a record with another government. That should have been worth something."
"Sure, but it's not worth a damn if some bounty hunter bags you on your way back because you had to bring that record up during negotiations, or because some freelancer caught sight of you.”
“I would have been fine, you know better than anyone that I can take care of myself, and we’ve been through this part of the sector before. Maybe I wouldn’t have made a deal with someone like her if I was at least playing babysitter in the background.”
“If someone spotted you, or an over vigilant hunter with a DNA sniffer got you in his sights, you might have been able to fight your way free, or quietly put him down, but that would only draw the wrong kind of attention. The Carthans don't care that we're on their ball of dirt right now, but that could change if we end up getting into trouble in one of their secure zones.”
"DNA sniffer? Who uses a portable DNA sniffer?” Stephanie recoiled before shaking the notion off. “Don't you think they would have done a better scan if they really cared? That customs bitch didn't seem like the type to leave loose ends behind. If she cared that we might be here, she would have gotten to us, no problem. Besides, I checked the bounty board again. What we learned before coming here is dead on; no one on this moon is interested in paying for anyone from the Samson, there's so much paying work and trouble here, well, there's no point."
"Ayan was the best option. She doesn't have any warrants out for her, and she has more training than both of us combined in negotiations. That's exactly what we need, a new face who has a good head on her shoulders."
"So it has nothing to do with the fact that you're bunking up? I mean, I don't blame you, but I wonder if you're thinking with-"
"She got us what we needed," Jake interrupted. "If you’re not going to help on the bridge, then find another way to lend a hand. I'm sealing this ship up and lifting off before she completely destabilizes and falls into the mud one piece at a time."
"So we're just going to side with people we don't know, maybe go into debt, inherit whichever enemies she’s made here, and end up working for her because no one else will have us? That's your solution?"
"You’re being overdramatic, making assumptions. According to the message I got from Ayan, it looks like Patrizia is calming down, enjoying the good life. We're in a serious spot, in case you haven't noticed. Every issyrian on the crew is coming down with something they're getting from the toxic crap we landed on, and I'm pretty sure the rest of us aren't far behind. I'm starting to think the Carthans put us here so they could ignore us to death and, like it or not, Ayan and Laura just found us a better parking spot."
"I can go see if I can do better, won't take long. Lord knows I have more experience with people like-"
"We don't have time."
"Listen, I don't know what's going on with you Jake, but something’s off. First, you're executing a slaver and his first mate, now you're just taking this deal at face value? When has that ever worked out for us in the past?" Stephanie snapped. “Not to mention, you just signed everything we have over to Ayan, who’s calling all the shots.”
“Can it! We’re about to lose the Samson and you’re just standing there chewing sour grapes!” Jake snapped so viciously, Stephanie took a step back.
The ship jerked suddenly and the engineering station began flashing red. Finn worked the controls frantically. "We just lost all the mid-ship inertial dampeners. I'm trying to cover with back ups from other areas, but the protection range isn't high enough."
"Do whatever you have to, we're not going to let her fall apart because we landed on soft ground," Jake replied. "Use series T31."
"They're burned out. Give me a minute, I'll try to equalize the stress."
Stephanie looked at the pair for a moment. She was no engineer, and certainly no pilot, but she could see what could happen if they didn't manage to fix the problem. The Samson would rip apart in the middle before they could get the landing gear free of the muck that was holding her down. The ship had been her home for the better part of six years. She'd met and lost so many friends while aboard, suffered through great hardships and enjoyed some memorable times.
Something on Finn's console caught her eye. "Is that the primary port side strut?" She asked, pointing.
"Yup, it's still a meter underground. The other two aren't as bad."
"What if I head aft and hit the manual release?"
An ominous creaking of the hull drowned out Jake's first attempt at a response.
"Keep us steady, Captain. We've got enough stress as it is," Finn said as he cringed.
"The wind's picking up. Do you remember where the access panel for that pylon is, Steph?"
"How could I forget?" Stephanie ran out of the cockpit and through the crew quarters as quickly as she could. Many of the deck plates had come partially undone and twisted. There wasn't much left holding the ship's middle together, and she was thankful to be armoured as she ran down the stairway leading to the lower aft section of the Samson. Several of the steel steps were unsteady, creaking and giving underfoot.
The main hold's deck showed the damage more than anywhere else, it was twisted at one end so badly there was a slant across the entire floor. How the main power plant was still running, she would never know, but a rare bout of claustrophobia threatened to impede her as she passed down a narrow service passage between the larger components of the mass reactor. The thought of the supports beneath those heavy machines giving way, and her getting crushed between was terrifying, and thankfully fleeting.
She came out at the absolute aft end of the Samson and pulled at one of the port side service hatches. The keypad beside it lit up. "Oh thank God something still works back here," she said to herself as she punched the security code in. The portal unlocked, she could hear the bolts retract, but something was wrong. “Spoke too soon.”
The metal door frame had twisted just enough to trap the hatch. She activated the muscular enhancement systems in her armour, brought up her head piece and sealed it before gripping the handle firmly. With a yank and the scream of metal scraping against metal the door opened then promptly clattered to the deck beside her. “Sorry,” she said to no one in particular..
Stephanie crawled into the small, dark space before losing her nerve and looked around carefully. She’d only been in that area of the ship once, over two years before when she had to climb up the landing strut to board during a very hasty retreat. "C'mon, you were only here for a minute, but you saw the big lever you weren't supposed to touch. Well, not until now, anyway." She stood in front of the landing gear, being careful not to fall out of the undercarriage door. The rain and muck had made the plating slick underfoot. Through the narrow space between the landing gear and the rest of the ship she could see how the strut had dug into the mud. The stuff was more trouble than they could have ever guessed, and she knew she wasn't the only one kicking herself for not seeing it coming when the rain started.
"It's on the fore side of the strut. Or it should be," Finn told her.
Stephanie recalled the lever, it had a red, rubber cover that couldn't have been more obvious. "Could it have fallen off?" She asked as she inspected that side of the landing gear.
"How would-" Finn started. "Well, maybe. I hope not!"
Stephanie shifted around the wavering strut and sighed with relief. "Found it! It was on the starboard side."
"How'd it get there?" Finn remarked. "Whatever, we're coming apart. Hurry."
There wasn't much space for her to squeeze into on the landing strut, not nearly enough for her to safely cling on without getting crushed when the ship lifted off. "Gimmie a minute."
"Take your time, be safe," Jake advised. “But quickly”
She stood there, looking at the narrow space between the landing strut and the edge of the undercarriage hatch for a moment. She leaned away from the strut as best as she could and reached out to he lever.
"Stephanie?" asked Finn.
"Gimmie a minute! I'm just finding a way to do this so I'm not half the woman I used to be when I'm done," she snapped.
She stretched so her other hand was on the lip of the hatch leading into the ship and decided she’d dive for it when the mechanism released, just in case there were extra problems. "Okay, don't lift off too fast," she said as she steeled her resolve.
Stephanie pulled the landing gar release slowly. It flipped suddenly, knocking her back. With a deafening shriek the strut separated and the Samson began to lift off. In a matter of seconds the landing metal support disappeared from sight, and they were fifty meters off the ground. She slipped as she tried to pull herself out of the small undercarriage room, her feet dangled in the open air for a second before she pulled herself through the service hatchway and back inside the ship interior.
“You all right Steph?” Asked Finn.
“Fine, you’ll have to get someone down here to fix the door though, we’re open to atmosphere.”
“I’ll put it on the list.”