Stephanie finished sealing up her black vacsuit. It was fitted a little closer than she liked, but considering she would probably be spending most of her time on the bridge, a fully armoured vacsuit would be a little much. She liked it though, it had a high collar, thigh pockets, adjustable holster, and matched her knee high combat boots. The gloves and headpiece of the version she wore could retract and roll up on their own with a quick voice command or if the pressure in the area around her changed too much. I have to ask the Captain about programming the specs for his command and control unit into the materializers so senior officers can make their own. As much as I love the vacsuits, borrowing his spare C and C unit whenever I need a new one is becoming a hassle.
She looked around herself, trying to take it all in again. I can't believe we're on this ship, that I'm second in command. Her quarters were unbelievable, the command deck quarters were larger than anywhere she'd lived, including her family home. She grew up with two brothers, four sisters and so many cousins it would take her several minutes to count them up. Her mother and father, along with her siblings had a two bedroom home on a colony planet that had boomed early on the wrong resources.
When her family first settled there before she was born the assayers said it would be perfect for farm land, there would be hectares of natural foods stretching all the way to the horizon in every direction. During initial settling, around the time her first brother and two cousins were born, the farms started popping up, things were good from the stories she heard. The year she and her cousin Sam was born her family had fifty nine hectares all their own. Another assessment was done that year and the government found evidence of heavy metals.
Stephanie's family was reimbursed for most of the land, allowed to keep a twentieth of what they had to grow their own food and build homes, but they weren't given enough credits to leave the planet and settle somewhere else. They weren't allowed to buy a stake in the new mining operations that started up either. By the time she was a little girl the entire continent she lived on looked like a gravel pit. Even the starport was a blackened, misused thing that looked hundreds of years old from the beating industrial usage dealt. In truth the colony was less than twenty years old, the modest starport just over thirty.
She was in her early teen years when her eldest brother and two of her cousins were killed in a mining accident. It was then that she decided life on that world was not for her. The stars had the answer, she would get off world no matter what it took.
When the military came calling only a few years later she signed up and was gone within two days. She finished high school enroute to the academy and within six months she was a trained infantrywoman, specialized in boarding actions. Three years later she was court marshalled for insubordination and left on a port with her last paycheck. With few options open to her she signed up on the first ship looking for boarding crew. After jumping from one ship to another, joining better and better gangs she finally started making a name for herself. Then she signed up on the Samson. Meeting someone as intelligent, fierce, quiet and confident as Captain Valance changed her life. She learned more from him than in all the time she spent in the military. The fact that he'd been pulling jobs for only a year when she first met him wasn't something she learned until much later.
The years flew by while she was on his ship. She earned his trust, earned more credits than she had ever dreamed of, enough to buy her own ship legitimately and start her own crew. As time wore on that idea appealed to her less and less and the life she lived was tarnished by the memories of all the friends and acquaintances she had lost on the job. Some crew members lasted weeks, others months, and a few would only remain aboard for days. As many boarding crew were killed as those who left after making the realization that the life wasn't for them. Only a couple retired in the time she had been on the Samson.
Over four years. She thought to herself as she looked around the brightly lit bedroom. The main feature of the room was a queen sized bed that made and cleaned itself. If I had stuck with the plan I would be on my way to Elysian right now. Mixing in with other potential colonists on some Lorander colony ship, seeing if I could find mister right on the way there.
She shook her head and chuckled to herself as she walked into the spacious main room. Who was I kidding? Being a farmer was my parent's dream. I'd be bored to tears after just a few weeks, months if I were lucky.
Stephanie looked at the weapons she had laid out on a sideboard. Her particle acceleration assault rifle, a heavy disintegration handgun, and a more modest pulse pistol with an automatic setting. She decided on the automatic pulse pistol, its stun setting and inability to pierce metal made it a more obvious choice for use aboard ship.
She started for the door and stopped as it opened, turning around and taking her new quarters in again. There was a futon that doubled as another bed, a bathroom with an a shower that used water or vibrations to get its user clean and its bottom could convert into a square bathtub, and there was even a large adjustable chair. Trying it the night before had led to her nodding off after just a few seconds, it was the most comfortable little space she'd ever been in. There was even an extra room currently occupied by surplus furniture unceremoniously piled up. Too bad I can't get the lights to do anything but come all the way on or all the way off. I'm either in complete darkness or getting a tan. The controls must be broken. I'll have maintenance take a look, hopefully they have a better understanding of these systems than I do.
The hallway was empty. She turned and checked the door controls. Finding a locking mechanism she smiled. “Voice authentication required for this room. Take my voice imprint and allow Ashley Lamport as well as Captain Valent and Hernando Ramirez entry on vocal verification.”
“Yes First Officer Stephanie Vega. To confirm, you are setting a voice imprint lock on these quarters for yourself, Ashley Lamport, Captain Jacob Valent, and Hernando Ramirez. All others will not be able to enter unless approved by you or the Captain,” replied the moderate male computerized voice. It was strange, some sections of the ship had a female computerized voice, others had this calm male persona.
“Yes.”
“Security features set. Thank you Stephanie Vega.”
She nodded and walked down the hallway. The ships she had served on were never as spacious as the Triton. You couldn't walk three meters without seeing someone when you were in or near a berth. A single bed to a room was so rare, she had only enjoyed the privilege once before. Ashley had the same experience, she knew. They had both grown up surrounded by people. In her own case it was brothers, sisters, cousins, and the rest of her family. In Ashley's case she was raised by slaves and lived in the cramped servant's quarters, but it added up to the same thing.
Sleeping in a room where five or more other people were crammed into bunks wasn't anything out of the ordinary. Privacy, silence and solitude were rare luxuries. She wondered if Ashley had trouble sleeping the night before as well, glad that she didn't have the tendency of cuddling up with a bunkmate that her friend did. Ashley not only liked sleeping in bunk rooms, but she preferred having someone in her bunk with her.
Stephanie didn't have anything against the right fellow or lady slipping into her bunk, she just had more discriminating tastes. She did approve of Ashley's latest cuddle buddy though. Finn was kind, smart and near her age. Her friend was taking his near death status hard and Stephanie wondered if Ashley would be able to keep it together.
She got along with Finn and even though they were just starting to become friends, really, she knew Ashley didn't open her heart to anyone in degrees. It was all or nothing. Ashley was soft for the people she liked and open to people who were kind to her. A little too open, Stephanie often thought, but she tried to be there whenever Ash watched that receptiveness backfire.
I wonder if that'll slow down on the Triton. It'd be nice if Ashley and I got to know some new people who aren't going to jump ship at the next port. Maybe I could find a squeeze of my own. The thought died as soon as she rounded the corner. Frost was coming out of his quarters, closing the front of his vacsuit. She thanked her ancestors that she had only glimpsed the curly silver hair on his chest and nothing more before the black vacsuit was seamlessly sealed. He smiled at her, his light blue eyes glinting. “Have a good night sir?” He asked as he fell in step beside her.
“Nope. You can call me ma'am instead of sir.”
“When did they change that?”
“A few hundred years ago.”
“Ah, aye. I'm not one for watchin' movies or news, guess it shows.”
“Really? I guess I never realized. You were in the hold watching holomovies with us often enough.”
“Aye, but I was mostly watchin' you and the rest of the crew. More interestin' an' more appealin'.”
Stephanie pulled her brown hair into a short ponytail and nodded. “I like the news and horror flicks.”
“You'd figure after all you've seen you wouldn't jump at the sight of some knife wieldin', crazed zombie,” Frost said offhandedly.
“I don't.”
“Aye, you do, I've seen ye.”
“I'm usually sitting beside Ash and she twitches like she's got a nerve disorder. It carries.”
“Nay, I remember both of ye jumpin' and squealin' at the sudden bits. I'll catch ye next time, just watch.”
“Not if I'm watching you watching me the whole time.”
“Well then, who needs a movie with that kinda thing goin' on?” Frost smirked at her as the double doors to the main bridge were moved out of the hatchway by heavy metal arms. He walked through before she could respond.
He was grinning so broadly she could see it from behind. Her frustration was heightened as she realized she was blushing furiously and Ashley turned from her station to glance at the bridge entrance. The younger woman glanced to Frost, then to Stephanie and a smile slowly spread across her face before she turned back to her station.
Oh God, if there was ever a rumour or even an idea I had to squelch, it's that there is anything going on between me and that lummux.
“Good morning Stephanie,” Captain Valance said as he turned in the command chair. He was wearing the same black vacsuit everyone on the bridge was, his white scarf and black long coat hung off the back of his seat along with his gun belt. She hadn't seen him or anyone on the Samson use a full gun belt aboard ship in a long time, they got caught on things and just took too much space. If the Captain was using his, maybe she could start using her own again. They were great for keeping extra ammunition, data chips and a few other odd small things in a place where they were easy to get to. They also drew a little attention away from the vacsuits, or rather what was underneath.
“Good morning sir, how is the Enreega system?”
“Half slagged,” Captain Valance said, bringing a tactical display of the half million kilometre radius around Seneschal up on the main holographic projector. “Eden Fleet ships came through and tore the place up. They made one hell of a mess.”
The hundreds of emergency beacons and drifting hulks near the planet became immediately evident on the main bridge holodisplay. All blips and shapes flashing with red exclamation points appearing and fading atop them. “Sir, I should have been here, on the bridge.”
“Don't worry, Ramirez and Price are supervising emergency shuttle landings in bay two. I'm saving the best for you and Frost. You'll be on gunnery deck A while Frost and his team tractor one of the larger disabled ships in. The survivors will have to be set up in temporary quarters.” The Captain brought up a cross section of the ship and highlighted the upper berth. “Ramirez and his team didn't get a chance to explore most of this berthing, so one of your teams will have to clear it before people can hold up there.”
“Are there any other rescue ships enroute?” Stephanie asked.
“The TRF Peter is the closest. They're two days away at top speed.”
Stephanie brought up a more detailed schematic of gunnery deck A, it was the largest space available close to the outer hull, stretching most of the length and width of the ship. There were four main mooring points consisting of large, round docking doors with heavy support clamps. There were also several emergency airlocks that could accommodate smaller ships. The open space was over four hundred meters by six hundred meters, and would normally be crewed by a minimum of two hundred gunners, mechanics and loaders. As it was, it was completely empty. The turrets were secured well above the deck, the moorings were locked down and the airlocks were all sealed. Policing the area if too many passengers were brought onboard at a time would be a monumental task. “Okay, we'll take on a group with one team while the other team secures a section of berthing. Once that group is situated we can take on another,” She said with finality. “I won't open an airlock until we're ready, so don't tractor in more ships while we have one docked.”
Frost nodded, looking over the tractor system controls. The beam system used artificial gravity and magnetic fields to move other ships into position for docking. The aft dorsal beam system was the second largest, made for hauling large objects or dragging the Triton into position for docking with much larger stations that were made to work with the technology. “Aye, I'll hold for your word, Ma'am.”
“All right, select your teams and get up there. Tell me if there are any surprises,” Captain Valance ordered while checking on main engineering systems.
Stephanie used the Command and Control Arm Unit he had loaned her to select a team of nine for herself and another two teams of five for doing sweeps through the berths and clearing them for passengers, sent everyone their orders, then signed off the system and detached the device from her arm.
“That one's yours,” Captain Valance told her with a smile. “Congratulations, First Officer.”
“Thank you sir,” She said, clamping it back on. It adjusted to her much smaller arm automatically. “I'll tell you as soon as we're ready for the first load.”
The nearest express car to the upper gunnery deck was made to haul large machinery up, down and across the ship. It reminded her of the large ore laden freight cars that used to muck up the shafts in the main complexes of the hastily built colony buildings she went to school in as a child. The large car in the Triton was much cleaner, however, despite the dents and deep scratches from heavy equipment that had been moved long before they had come aboard. Stephanie had stopped in at her quarters to pick up her assault rifle and extra impact armour just in case there was real trouble. There shouldn't be, but you never knew what you were getting when you were on a rescue.
The rest of her team stood in the fifteen by ten meter bulk express car as the interior of the ship whipped by. The windows and transparent sections of the express tunnel afforded them a view of the empty, darkened sections of the ship, and she was secretly in awe at how large it was, how little of it was active and explored. The darkened hallways and large intersections that were visible only long enough for a glimpse made the ship seem dead, hollow, abandoned. As the car started slowing down it occurred to her that her brief tour only took her up and across fourteen decks out of twenty one.
There hadn't been any time to open the interior sections, while half of them were sleeping the other half were trying to learn from the existing crew how to operate the systems and where the most critical points aboard were. Sadly, the existing crew were barely trained, and though everyone behind her had experience with crowd control on their records, Stephanie didn't know a single one of them. Ramirez and Price had taken the Samson boarding and maintenance teams to help with handling the arrivals of the smaller escape shuttles in the lower hangars. The fact that she was First Officer had been trumped by the reality that she had been asleep when all of this started.
She could have pulled members of their teams into her own, but she didn't want to leave them short handed. “Ramirez, Price,” she addressed through the subdermal communicator in her jaw.
“Good morning Steph,” Ramirez answered.
“Yes Stephanie?” Price acknowledged.
“How is the retrieval going down there?”
“We're at eighty percent capacity. In about two hours we won't have room for any more vessels,” Price replied.
“Okay, as people finish up down there, send them to gunnery deck A. I'll need as many eyes and hands as I can get. I'll be taking people on a couple hundred at a time or more.”
“Aye, I'll send Douglas and Julie up now. They just finished securing one of the last shuttles,” Ramirez responded. “How many are we taking on?”
“The berth Captain marked for this can take up to fifteen hundred. We're filling up.”
“My goodness. We've taken in a few short of seven hundred,” Price commented. “It felt like a million.”
“Are they all logged on the manifest?”
“We have checked them all in, though it was difficult.”
“Good, we want to make sure we track everyone as best as we can. Be safe down there,” Stephanie said.
“You too, I'll join you with my team once we're finished here. Price can pick up security detail with his team.”
“I will, if that fits your plan,” Price asked as much as confirmed.
“That'll be fine, just make sure everyone gets situated safely and try to catch any disagreements early,” Stephanie reinforced.
The express freight car came to a gentle stop and the front doors opened. Stephanie walked out onto the gunnery deck and the lights started coming on overhead. As the space was illuminated her jaw dropped. The deck was marked where hatches leading down into the ship could be opened, where ammunition materializers ejected cartridges for loading into one of the many quad gunnery turrets built into the ceiling and where many other exits, machines and storage compartments, recycling processors could be accessed. Everything was stored either in the high ceiling overhead or in the deck until it was needed. There was a slightly curved open space stretching hundreds of meters.
They had come out right in the middle of the gunnery deck and all of them looked around at the massive open space. The rail cannon turrets, dozens and dozens of them on G Deck A, hung down from the thickly armoured hull, leaving two and a half meters underneath for someone to walk under. Massive cartridge slots waited for loading crews to fill them with ammunition, the small, armoured doors between them led to the gunner's seat inside, all of the posts were empty except for a few that had been automated.
To her left she could see someone had forgotten to put away a loader's suit. It looked like heavy infantry armour with hard plating and an exoskeletal frame, but she knew there were modifications so someone could climb in and start picking up ammunition cartridges that weighed upward of a ton each, loading them like they were toys. The extra armour plating was there just in case there was an explosion, other accident or a boarding incursion.
During combat the whole deck was decompressed, everyone wore vacsuits. It made recovering gunners from damaged turrets easier, and allowed everyone else to keep working if the hull was breached. Gunners always had a high mortality rate, but ships with sections of their hulls dedicated to rail cannons were always far more deadly, firing hundreds, sometimes thousands of projectiles per second in many different directions at once.
Stephanie had never seen a gunnery deck like the one on the Triton, and she was happy that she had no qualifications to be there when the area was used for its intended purpose. Frost will most likely be set up as the permanent gunnery Chief. I hope he supervises from the bridge. The nagging worry she had for him surprised her, and she shook it off. “All right, let's get this show on,” she called out to her team. Most of them were openly gawking at the massive space. “Start looking for the mooring points and marking off their designations on the common deck map. Also keep your eyes open for anything that isn't locked down. It doesn't matter if it's built into the deck or into the ceiling. The last thing we need is some kid finding their way into a turret and playing starfighter.”
“But they're over two meters from the decks. I can't even reach the gunnery door,” one of the newer crew members complained from behind.
Stephanie walked to one of the turrets and looked at the deck below it. The controls weren't locked, so she knelt down, pressed the ready button and moved to the side as the gunner's seat smoothly deployed from the turret. It came to rest right in front of her so she could sit down and let the turret draw her inside. “If I can do it with no training, a five year old can do it by mistake.” She said as she tapped the control on the floor with her foot. “Bridge, please lock down all local turret controls. We're live up here.”
“Oh crap! Sorry! Locking it all down now Ma'am.” Came the voice of one of the new hires through her communicator. “I'm not used to having anyone up there, sorry ma'am.” He muttered.
The next hour was long. As her small crew of ten made their way across the deck, ensuring that anything dangerous was secure, two smaller groups were checking the berth below them. There were hundreds of bunks, and it took them half an hour to secure one section with four hundred inside and she knew they had rushed the job. There wasn't much they could do about it. They were critically undermanned and again, in a position to save lives.
As they went about their work she knew there were ships filled with people looking to be rescued. The upper hull of the Triton was mostly transparent, and as the light of the distant star reflected off drifting, damaged ships she couldn't help feel the urgency of her duties press down on her. Hearing the first section of the upper berth was cleared was a relief and seeing more people join their team from the hangars fifteen or more decks below was an even greater one.
At long last it was time to start taking on passengers. “Bridge; we're ready to take on the first group. Just tell me where they're docking.”
“Dorsal mooring three. We also have someone coming through airlock twelve C. We've been talking to him a bit, he's an engineer that's agreed to sign on to help us out,” Frost said.
“That's lucky.”
“Check your command unit for his credentials, lass. We've never been this lucky.”
She did so as her team ran across the deck towards mooring three. His profile listed him as Liam Grady, Engineering Doctorate in Starship design and Engineering Doctorate in Computing. 12 years military service, recent port of call: Sol Lunar Station. “Holy hell! This guy's from Earth?”
“Not from what he was sayin', he's just coming back from retreat there. Might know something about how the ship works.”
“Did the Captain manage to snag him as permanent crew?”
“Aye, I'm sure he'll fill you in on the details. Didn't tell me much.” Frost said, sounding as though he were about to pout.
“I'm sure he didn't need you to consult on the trade, but if it makes you feel better I can always make sure you're in the room whenever Captain and I make a big decision.”
“Yer kiddin' right?”
“Yup.”
Frost chuckled. “Just when I think I'm gettin' on yer good side.”
She couldn't help but smile at the exchange as her and her team arrived below the mooring point. She looked at the pictorial directions on the deck and hoped she was reading them right as she pushed a panel open with her foot then tapped a button with her toe. A ramp extended out from the floor all the way up to the three meter wide airlock doors in the ceiling. Railings came up from the sides and after a moment it looked like the ramp had always been there.
“Wow, Earth tech is amazing. Nothing is just for one thing, every space has more than one purpose.” Liz, an energetic new hire who she had just met commented from behind her. “It makes the ship feel like it's twice it's size, as if it weren't big enough.” She was actually shorter than Stephanie, which was a hard thing to accomplish since she herself was only one hundred sixty one centimetres tall.
“They started this whole space travel thing, I'd hope they have it right by now,” another crew member commented.
“Okay, you two get to the bottom of the ramp and be ready to log ID's. Anyone without identification gets put off to the side until the end of each group. I need two more to scan for active weaponry. Take all their ammunition and keep it secure in a storage compartment, there should be a couple in the deck nearby. The rest will walk them to their berth. The teams below have been able to sweep them for explosives, weaponry, dangerous bacteria and other life, but they weren't exactly able to make the beds and sweep the floors. If anyone complains just tell them the TRF Peter will be here in two days. They can be picky about accommodations as much as they like with the rescue teams.”
Grace Templeton and two other crew members marked as medics arrived at a run, each with a full load of medical gear. “Reporting for duty, bring on the masses,” she said, leaning down on her knees and trying to catch her breath. “This place is huge.”
“Good to see you. I was just about to say something to the Captain.”
“We've been listening in on the chatter from medical. We only have three injured so far, considering the damage the Eden ships did we're lucky to have so few.”
“Have you ever done this kind of triage before?”
“Once. A trade convoy was attacked and I was sent along with a rescue vessel. This one is much better so far. Don't worry, I know what I'm doing.”
Thank God someone does. Stephanie thought to herself as she turned from Grace to look up through the transparent hull. Frost was doing a fantastic job of guiding the damaged space liner in with the tractor beams. It was four hundred meters long but thin. She had seen many of them before and knew that there could be as many as five thousand aboard. “They're not starting small,” she said to herself as she ran up the ramp leading to the mooring doors. One of her team followed and took a support position on the other side of the hatch.
The tunnel extended from the Triton and the star liner slowly drifted towards it at a pace of only a few centimetres a second. It slowed down to millimetres by the time it made contact and the mooring frame reported a full on lock with the ship.
Stephanie caught sight of a man in a vacsuit drifting towards an airlock only meters further down the hull. “Liz, go make sure he has a happy landing. I'd hate to see him come through the airlock only to free fall to the deck.”
She had one of the other team members replace her in identification duties and ran to where she thought the ramp or whatever receiving device that was provided for emergency airlocks might be and checked the instructions.
Stephanie checked the mooring lock and saw that it was still pressurizing and checking the seal.
Meanwhile, Liz had moved on to another spot on the floor, and with a satisfied nod, slid a panel to the side, pressed her foot down on a button and activated the retrieval system for the emergency airlock. It was a long, flexible tube that extended along a wire frame that came out of the floor so whoever was coming in through the smaller emergency airlock could slide down to the deck at a reasonable speed. Liz cheered for herself, throwing her arms up before stopping and checking to see if anyone noticed. Everyone had, a few chuckled, and she shrugged in response. “Getting new technology right on the first try is worth celebrating. Even with these instructions.”
“You're telling me,” Stephanie agreed.
The lone entrant came through the smaller emergency airlock and was visible only for a moment before he slid down the yellow tube, causing it to flex and warp. Liz stepped out of the way and the much taller, broad shouldered fellow arrived at the bottom, stopped by a thick pad on the deck. He rolled to his feet slowly and stood up in front of Liz, who looked absolutely tiny compared to the large human. “Thank you very much. I'm Liam,” he shook the young woman's hand.
“I'm Liz. I think you're wanted on the bridge if I heard the chatter right.”
“Aye, thank you for the safe landing.”
“Do you want me to walk him there Stephanie?” Liz asked.
“Don't worry, I can find my way,” Liam interjected calmly.
“You've been aboard a Sol System Carrier before?” Stephanie inquired.
“No, but if my guess is right this is like any other Earth ship and it'll show me the way.” He looked at the floor. “ Triton, show me the quickest way to the bridge,” he requested.
An arrow lit up on the deck to his right. “Yup, just like any Earth ship. I'll get out of your hair and let you help these people. Thank you Liz.” He said with a short bow before jogging off towards the freight express car.
“You're welcome,” she waved after him before looking back down at the controls to the emergency airlock. “Now how do I get the tube and everything back in?” She asked herself. A few moments later she tapped another button with her foot twice and the whole yellow tube and its stopping pad retracted along with the wire frame.
Stephanie watched as the doors leading into the starliner parted and the first of the passengers appeared. “Hold there. If you have any weapons leave them aboard or check them at the bottom. We'll be taking all your ammunition so no firing will take place aboard. I'll direct you down the ramp in groups of four. Go slowly, carefully and present your identification to the officers at the bottom. We have basic accommodations for you until the TRF Peter, a rescue ship, arrives and you will be led to them as soon as possible,” she said through her amplification unit. The ones at the front found the announcement loud, and a few cringed, but she had to make sure she didn't repeat herself too much. She didn't want to lose her voice like she had the last time they performed a rescue operation.
The first groups went by without incident, a few of them taking a second or two to thank her or ask simple questions. After the first nine hundred, which was the longest stream of people she'd ever seen, a gentleman stopped and showed her a pair of pistols. “Lady, I heard your announcement, and I think we have a problem.”
“Yes?” She replied with a smile.
“I take these with me everywhere, and I don't go without ammo either.”
“You'll have to make an exception here.”
“No, you'll have to make an exception, missy.”
Stephanie simply nodded and pointed to the right of the large mooring doors. “If you'll stand right there while I let other people through so we can discuss this in a minute,” she said firmly.
He gave her a surprised look then followed directions, holstering his pistols and crossing his arms.
She let the rest of the passengers through without incident, and the fellow tried to squeeze in with the last of them. Stephanie stopped him, gently touching his shoulder. “Now let's finish our discussion.”
“You're gonna let me through with my ammo miss.”
“No, I'm not. Ship policy states that only registered crew can go armed,” there had been no such policy established, but she decided now was a good time to use her rank and make one. The guard she had brought up with her rested his hands on his rifle, slung across his stomach and chest.
“I don't know what you're trying to prove lady, but-”
“If I had anything to prove, you'd have been on your face ten minutes ago with a hole in your chest.” Stephanie stated plainly, her hand on her sidearm. The safety on her own rifle had been turned on and locked, it was slung across her back.
He stared at her for a moment, fuming, before trying to step forward again.
She put her arm out straight and stopped him with her palm. “Your ammo stays here or my scanning team won't let you through.”
“My ass they won't let me through,” he pressed again.
Stephanie jerked her pulse pistol from it's holster, aimed and fired in one smooth motion. The bolt of energy scattered across his entire body, setting his nervous system on fire momentarily, causing him to twitch violently and fall to the ramp.
In the space of three seconds she had both his weapons out of their holsters and tossed them into the cabin of the spaceliner behind him.
“I was gettin' my identification, I'm with Enreega Fed Law,” he said through clenched teeth. The pain of a mid powered stun weapon was unbelievable, and he'd be disabled for at least ten minutes longer.
“I couldn't care less, you attempted to intimidate the First Officer of this vessel, violated our code of conduct and didn't properly announce yourself. You're not welcome aboard.” She said as she rolled him back into the space liner.
“You bitch!” He managed to curse through an involuntary twitch.
“You don't know the half of it,” Stephanie laughed as she walked out of the airlock and punched the button to seal it behind her. “Frost, you're clear to release the starliner. It's empty except for one giant prick.”
“The giant prick didn't fit aboard?” Frost retorted quietly.
Stephanie's irritation evaporated and she chuckled. “He wouldn't relinquish his ammo.”
“Ah, all right, releasing the locks on the star liner. How are you for space down there?”
“We've counted eleven hundred twenty nine so far,” reported Liz from the bottom of the ramp.
There were a hand full of people left, waiting to present their identification and be scanned and Stephanie quickly counted them. “I'd say we just picked up eleven hundred forty three. That upper berthing is probably getting pretty full.”
“All right, we have one more military vessel to dock with.” Frost said. “They're coming across in emergency shuttles on our port side, and hard locking with us below. Ramirez will be escorting them in. Captain needs you on the bridge,” Frost reported.
“Has Ramirez been taking ammo?”
“Let me check for you,” Frost said.
“No, he didn't think of it,” interjected Captain Valance. “We should have.”
“Well, at least eleven hundred of them aren't-” She stopped on the ramp as she saw a two by two meter storage compartment filled with ammunition and several disposable firearms. It was like looking at a munitions pit.
“Something wrong?”
“Oh, nothing Captain, just looking at enough ammunition to fuel a small civil war. Leaves me wondering if it would have been simpler to make sure everyone was armed instead of collecting ammo. Probably would have been faster.”
“Well, hopefully the military personnel can help keep the peace for two days. From what we've heard the berths down there are pretty cramped. Twenty eight and fifty six bunks to a compartment and we haven't figured out the sound dampeners or soft isolation systems yet. It's going to be loud and cramped.”
“Well, I'll be on the bridge in a moment. I'm taking a team with me so we have security there, the rest I'll assign to keep the peace in the berth we just filled up.”
“I'll take my team back down to medical. It's a miracle there are no wounded.” Grace said as she turned to leave the gunnery deck. “Computer, show me the quickest route to the main infirmary.” She commanded. Arrows appeared to her left on the deck, just in front of her feet and she raised an eyebrow. “What do you know, learn something new every day.”