"Well there's your problem. Your thrust manifold is thoroughly flunted," a middle-aged redhead explained to the pilot of an Aquila Defense Systems escort fighter. "It'll take a while to fix it, but at least we can."
"What are you talking about, Wrench?"
She sighed, he shoulder twitching a little as she did. "We have two dozen light miners and three Hegemon heavy excavators. All of them have broken mining systems. Most of them can't be fixed without rebuilding the entire ship."
Another man cleared his throat from behind Wrench, and she jumped to attention. "Seriously, you can't fix them at all?"
"'fraid not, boss. The internal mineral processors are all just ruined. They need regular maintenance, and we didn't have time. The light craft took a while to finally give up, but we had to deal with the escorts as our first priority. The Hegemons? They were doomed when we started. No way to get replacement parts out here."
The Director shook his head. "Damn. That's going to complicate things."
"'Complicate things'? Boss, we're dead if we can't get more metal out here."
"Not as much as you think. It's been a long road, but home's at the end." Jones was unusually calm suddenly, which was kind of creeping the rest of the crew out. He'd been just as worried as the rest of them.
"The hell you talkin' about?"
He smiled a bit and shook his head again. "Sorry, Wrench, can't tell you just yet. But there's negotiations going on. Brush up on the finer details of Raven and Rook maintenance, though."
Realization slowly dawned on the mechanic and escort pilot as their boss turned and walked away. He stopped a few yards away and looked back. "Get one of those Surveyors refitted for combat while the Glass Soldier is in for repairs. The rest of the Surveyor works, right?"
"Yeah, we can do that. Come on, Dale, let's get this thing set up."
A pale, thin man confidently and silently strode through the halls of ADSV Nonsuch, the oldest ship in the Aquila fleet. When he reached the bridge, its captain - a taller, healthier-looking man - gestured for the rest of the staff to leave. The visitor stopped him. "That won't be necessary for this, John."
The captain, and Director of Aquila, was surprised. "That's unusual, for you. Not scheming today?"
Escher smirked. "Oh, I am, but all of you can be involved this time. Tell me, how do you feel about blockade running?"
"Gonna need you to narrow that one down, Escher."
"Gallic blockades."
"Just tell me where you want me."
Escher set his tablet down on the central command station, and displayed a list of Aquila assets. "The Leeds resistance needs supplies, and nothing heavy can get to the dropoffs. Your Arrastras and Spatials aren't of any use for mining anymore. These craft can be refitted to run the blockade along with being armed enough to escort other freighters, especially the Voyager type; heavier craft simply aren't going to work. This needs to be a quickly in, quickly out operation, and it needs to happen repeatedly but not regularly. Keep it unpredictable, we can't let this get intercepted by Gallia."
"This is gonna be dangerous, you know. I can't just order my people to do this."
"Fully aware. Civilian participation is on a volunteer basis, and the operation will have support from the Commission. The Fourth Fleet will be occupied with securing our new home - it's allied territory, but I have some concerns about our relocation drawing undesirable attention. Operative Shiranui will be directing Commission support, as I will also have to attend to establishing security." Escher paused for questions, but none followed. "Once our new home is properly settled and orderly, Fourth Fleet logistics may be redirected to this effort, but that's still up in the air. We're still not entirely sure what we'll need, or what we'll have. But the more we can bog the Gauls down in Leeds, the better off everyone will be."
"Understood. Are we diverting from our current course?"
"No. We're getting everyone to our new home so we can give them some rest and give their ships a proper inspection before moving out. We can't have anything breaking down at a bad time." He paused, and looked over the bridge of the ancient transport he was aboard. "How is this thing still spaceworthy, anyway?"
"Built to last. Slow as all hell though."
"Hey, boss, wake up! We're here."
John sat up immediately, and immediately regretted his haste. He took a moment to sit with his head down and let the dizziness pass, and looked up at the red-haired woman that woke him. "Finally made it, Alice? Great, let's have a look."
The two of them walked to the bridge of the Serenity-class ADSV Spokane, a somewhat run-down vessel - as expected from its previous Junker ownership - but still solid. A few pipes and ducts were exposed in the corridor, there were a few burn marks from what appeared to be combat with boarders, but it was predominantly cosmetic damage. And she was certainly more suited to the Taus than the lumbering hulk they traded for her. On the bridge, the grey clouds of Tau-44 greeted the Director.
"That station there is Minato Harbor," Alice explained, pointing at a small station in orbit of Borneo. "An old Crayter installation we'll be using for a while. Sulawesi Citadel protects the main entrance point, we passed it on our way in. There's some IMG operations still in the system, but I'm not sure of the full details; regardless, we should be cautious to not draw attention."
"And by 'we' you mean Kane's band," Jones nodded, looking over the scanner. "Looks like there's some Gallic traffic. Council?"
"We're not certain. but It's not hostile. We suspect Unione Corse, we'll have to confirm with the Crayterians first, or make contact."
"Corse? Huh. Could be some money there, if we're careful. Later, though. We need to get situated first."
"Agreed. I'll bring us in, if there's nothing else."
"I need some breakfast before I deal with anything else. You have command."
"Understood." Alice leaned over the console and activated the communication system. "Minato Harbor, this is ADSV Spokane, acting CO Alice Whittington requesting mooring clearance."
"Clearance granted, Spokane, head around to moor 3. Welcome home."
The cafeteria aboard ADSV Fort Resolution had been converted into Johnathan Jones's temporary office and meeting hall. A number of Aquila employees maintained residence aboard the ship in anticipation of a proper Octavarium installation's construction. Of course they were grateful for Crayter's assistance, but why move everything twice?
"Our miners can't mine. We can't source replacement parts; Crayter does all their mining planetside, and the IMG can't take that kind of risk, not with what Kane and Escher are planning to do. Bretonia could hardly spare the resources, and even if they could, they haven't had operations out here in so long that we'd have to recalibrate everything anyway. Liberty has no mining experience in the Taus, and screw Kusari." He took a steadying breath to calm himself before launching into another rant about that matter, and continued. "So, we have Surveyors, Scrapers, Arrastras, and Hegemons that can't fill their primary purpose. We could refit them for escort work, but they're not that efficient in the role. And we can't in good conscience sell the things, because no one wants a mining ship they'd have to completely rebuild. If anyone here's got any ideas, I'm all ears."
The room was quite full, with over a hundred Aquila employees making John very grateful that he used the cafeteria instead of an actual office. But while there was some murmuring from the crowd, there were no clear suggestions. Jones was starting to think he should've delayed the meeting for more people to come back from their break until a tall, blonde woman stepped forward.
"Got something for me, Carol? Ah, introduce yourself for the crowd, just in case."
"Carolyn Prescott, Talon Resource Extraction... and not for long, from the sound of things. Do you know what it's like to be run out of the first place you've ever truly called home?" She paused, but there was a hardness in her expression that told the Director not to interrupt. "I want the Gauls to burn. And I know I'm not alone here." Audience chatter agreed, but she raised an arm to stop them. "I was going over some of the regional intel we were able to get from Crayter, in case we could get operations going again. There wasn't a whole lot I had clearance for, but there were some civilian-level briefings. I saw Gallic activity."
"Well, yeah-"
"No, civilian. Civilian activity in the Taus. There aren't many possibilities there."
"Alright, but what can we... do about..." Realization came to the Director a little late. He knew what she was going to propose now. And now he couldn't take back the question.
"No one gives mining ships in the Taus a second thought... even if they can't actually mine. Every single one of them can be refitted for interdiction."
"I don't want to put any of you in danger, this is enemy territory we're talking about."
"No, it's occupied territory, and it's about bloody time someone puts an end to that." The audience cheered in response, and the Director knew he couldn't feasibly argue the point right now. Especially since he felt the same.
"Alright, alright. Give us a chance to get the refitting done and the ships inspected. No sense rushing into this half-cocked."
Alice probably wasn't going to be particularly thrilled though.
"Project LIMELIGHT never did get properly finished," Victor stated abruptly from behind the Director.
"Yeah, somethin' about us getting run out of our home," John replied irritably. This was his own office, how does Delacroix do that?
"You misunderstand. That wasn't an accusation. I remember the circumstances quite well," he said calmly, pacing around the room. "We sent the plans out to the Hessians, in lieu of actually helping build the ship. We still have those plans, I trust?"
"Yeah. We make backups like you make plots."
"Smart." Victor smiled, as much as he ever does anyway, He leaned over to the second monitor, currently unused, and pulled up a series of ship diagrams. "There are a number of very interesting platforms on the open market now. The successor to the Corvo is a very well-defended corvette that the Zoners sell openly. Orbital's producing some small passenger craft that have plenty of room for alteration. A newer model of the Democritus has an expanded cargo bay. And then, of course, there's the Bustard." Complete diagrams of each ship were pulled up in sequence as he spoke.
"Be a lot easier if we could get some examples out here to have my people pick apart. Might need a proper shipyard for the larger ones."
"I had considered that, yes," Victor said, standing and walking toward the exit of the office. "There's a Taurus in the docking bay, have a look at your leisure. Start with standard SEW/C refits, the Fourth Fleet could use a supplement to Paranoid. And get me a copy of those Muninn plans, in case they never made it to the Hessians. I repay my debts." Before Jones could respond, Victor closed the door and left.
"I hate that man sometimes," Jones muttered, examining the diagrams. Ideas quickly formed for potential refits, though, there were definitely useful ships here. Recon and control systems were an easy enough starting point...
The Eyrie-type frigate was an uncommon sight in Sirius. Built off of the framework of the Ibis-class light carrier, itself a derivative of the Oasis-class passenger liner, its interior structure was quite a bit rougher than its parent models. Personal quarters were reduced to just an exterior arc around the fore of the ship. At the inside of the arc, and just aft of it, all of the passenger support features were relocated. Recreation, medical, and dining were rather condensed compared to the original Oasis blueprints - any semblance of luxury was largely gone. There was enough for comfort, but this was a worker's ship, not a vacation craft.
The expanded armories and maintenance bays of the Ibis were further retooled, converting the Eyrie into a factory ship. Certain specialized production is easier in the reduced gravity available aboard a starship, and this also allows for production enroute to a delivery and the production of specialized parts as needed for small craft maintenance.
ADSV Fort Resolution was a rather new ship before the void-exile, but the limited resources put more strain on her than Director Jones would want to admit. What supplies they had were reserved for the smaller craft; vessels like Fort Resolution could power through minor issues, maybe isolate a deck if something bad happened. The same sort of issue on a Voyager or Bayonet would just kill the pilot if left unchecked, and that would leave the vagrant fleet with reduced defenses in the event of a Gallic decapitation strike.
But she was still, it must be remembered, a factory ship. It didn't matter what broke as long as they could source the materials to fix it. And indeed, within mere weeks of returning to civilized, or at least inhabited space, almost every issue was fixed.
Frankly, Ken Matsuda had no business being the one overseeing maintenance here, at least in his own opinion. He wasn't a mechanic. He wasn't even an Aquila employee. But given that his previous command, Headlong Flight, was mothballed and would probably be scrapped for materials, he didn't really have anything better to do. EL-series generator parts were almost impossible to source this far from Liberty, and Aquila would have to reverse-engineer the entire ship's power grid in order to reproduce the generator adequately. An inefficient use of manpower, in the current situation.
Besides, Alice Whittington was busy running transports, and Jones himself was overseeing... something involving a Taurus, Ken wasn't too familiar with the details. Someone had to do it.
But all "it" seemed to be was making sure everyone had the equipment they needed and staying out of the way. Aquila's engineers were clearly highly motivated and clearly experts in their field. Ken was basically just watching and making sure they took breaks when they needed to.
There seemed to be some floorplan flow issues, though - unnecessary walls mostly serving to get in the way. He'd have to remember to bring that up when he saw Jones.
Another day saw Victor dropping in to the office of the Director of Aquila Defense Systems unannounced. This time Jones knew he was there, though. "Hegemons are rather large vessels, yes?" Victor started immediately.
"Yeah. They have to be, gotta house a lot of equipment and a sizable crew for months at a time. Considering a new career?"
Victor closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. "No, Jones. I'm considering contingencies. You know about the Gong's most recent job."
"Yeah. Not too pleased with you dropping that one on my people without telling me first, especially with this Crayter situation."
Victor was, as usual, unfazed by Jones's complaints. "Indeed. Thus the contingency. You have several Hegemons still, we used them to move some of the civilians and equipment. How long would it take to refit them as dedicated long-haul passenger vessels?"
Jones needed some time to consider that, and pulled up the diagrams of the Aquila Hegemons to figure it out. "Hmm. One of them basically already is set up that way. A lot of the equipment rooms are pretty easy to repurpose. The on-board smeltery..." He sighed and shook his head. "is not. At all. A starter refit would take probably a week or so for each ship, plus some time for furnishings. A total refit, including replacing the refineries? Infeasible without a proper shipyard, and a slow process with one."
Victor took some time to think on this answer. "I see. What are we losing by not repurposing the refinery?"
"About... two hundred passengers per Hegemon, I would say. It's an issue, but honestly a pretty minor one. We can just keep the refinery offline and use the space for storage instead; it's not ideal, but it'll work."
The Minister of Intelligence nodded once, pleased with the analysis. "Good, we can work with that. You can't use them for mining anyway, you said so yourself. How many refits can you have going simultaneously?"
Jones smiled, unusual when dealing with Victor. "All of them. My engineers don't have a whole lot they can do right now, they'll appreciate having something to do. I'll put the order in, and get the Gong out for some of the extra materials."
The face of Alice Whittington appeared once again on Johnathan Jones' console for a status report. "Boss, I'm planetside on Houston right now. Our
old factory is still functioning."
Jones was visibly quite surprised by this. During the Octavarian retreat from Kansas, they couldn't possibly arrange shipping. After a moment, he spoke. "Get me the manager." Alice nodded and walked away. She returned with a dark-skinned woman with long black hair and a serious expression.
"Irene Bowman, acting manager. You must be the Director I've heard so much about."
"Yeah, that's me. Sorry we've left you in the dark so long," he apologized, pulling up the financial data Alice had sent with the message.
"Alice explained. F
ucking Gallia. I've been able to keep things moving on my own out here, but getting more reliable shipments would be good."
"Of course, of course." Jones paused and lowered his voice some. "You said earlier you were the
acting manager. Explain what you meant."
Irene's left eye twitched a little bit at the question. "The one before me was just letting the place fall apart. One of the men here caught him embezzling what money we had. Jack didn't like being called out and pulled a gun. I was faster. To hear the pigs tell it, he
still has a twitch in his leg from me draining half a battery into him."
"Good old Model 9," Jones laughed. "I'm going over these reports, and you completely turned things around with no help at all. Why didn't you just go to another company?"
Irene shrugged. "Pride, maybe. And for a lot of us, this was our first real chance to go straight. I leave, they're back in the streets. Or worse. I'm not giving the police more slave labor."
That was a familiar attitude. When the previous Director had gotten killed in botched negotiations with the Mollys, Jones could've cut and run alone. But there were other people working for Aquila that needed the money, and the possibility of further Molly retaliation was a real risk. Irene had a bit of a criminal record herself; nothing violent, she appeared to have been working as a fence and an intermediary for smugglers. But as far as the reports showed, her Aquila work was completely legit, and experience with the Commission taught him how to find the holes crooks hide behind.
"I'll be down there as soon as I can arrange transit. In the meanwhile, I'm promoting you to full Manager and arranging for bonuses for you and all your employees as an apology. Shipments will resume and I will be in touch soon."
"Thank you, Director. My workers will really appreciate this."
"You've all earned it."
That'd be a long trip, Jones mused. But that makes it all the more important, for what he had in mind...