-Won't tell your name? Fine...-Okay, Bob -You better not piss me off, or i'll call you Jennifer -Emma thought, and smiled.-Oh and keep the name. If the frogs poop themselves from it, it's an added bonus. -Should check the internal sensors first-The words flashed thorough her mind -Dixon, Blythe! Get some get some suits and meet me at the airlock in five minutes. Let's see what the ship can tell about itself. -She stood up, grabbed the toolbox, and walked out of the room. On her way to the lockers she ordered the workers to stop scratching the name off, and instead remove the damaged panels, requisitioned a repair ship to cut off the damaged sections and chosen four men to organize and supervise each of the shifts.
Five minutes later she was at the entrance with Blythe and Dixon. Blythe wore a military EVA suit, while DIxon's was a BMM standard. Emma's was an old civilian model -the only one that she could find in her size - battered, full of scratches and patches, and a myriad of drawings on the helmet. Someone closed the outer door of the airlock while she was on the meeting. -Allrite, who can open open this jar of pickles for me?
Roy approached to door button and slammed it. The red color filled the room. Mechanisms began to pump oxygen, and soon there was no oxygen left in the airlock.
"Pressure stabilized" Airlock system said. The red color was replaced by green, Roy waved his hand toward the exit, and the three engineers entered damaged battleship.
New London System, Southampton Shipyards, 27.08.825AS
In his dirty coveralls, Meallan Dagon was reading a message from Sinclair. The whisp was fast and already signaled one of the Libertonian techs to arrive that day while complaining about the amount of sectors that were vent sealed.
However, the attachment was there with the expected material costs and he just flipped it open. Her cost prediction was, if nothing, restrained. He wondered if it was an effect from working with limited resources out here.
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetuer adipiscing elit. Aenean commodo ligula eget dolor. Aenean massa. Cum sociis natoque penatibus et magnis dis parturient montes, nascetur ridiculus mus. Donec quam felis, ultricies nec, pellentesque eu, pretium quis, sem. Nulla consequat massa quis enim. Donec pede justo, fringilla vel, aliquet nec, vulputate eget, arcu. In enim justo, rhoncus ut, imperdiet a, venenatis vitae, justo. Nullam dictum felis eu pede mollis pretium. Integer tincidunt. Cras dapibus. Vivamus elementum semper nisi. Aenean vulputate eleifend tellus. Aenean leo ligula, porttitor eu, consequat vitae, eleifend ac, enim. Aliquam lorem ante, dapibus in, viverra quis, feugiat a, tellus. Phasellus viverra nulla ut metus varius laoreet. Quisque rutrum. Aenean imperdiet. Etiam ultricies nisi vel augue. Curabitur ullamcorper ultricies nisi. Nam eget dui. Etiam rhoncus. Maecenas tempus, tellus eget condimentum rhoncus, sem quam semper libero, sit amet adipiscing sem neque sed ipsum. Nam quam nunc, blandit vel, luctus pulvinar, hendrerit id, lorem. Maecenas nec odio et ante tincidunt tempus. Donec vitae sapien ut libero venenatis faucibus. Nullam quis ante. Etiam sit amet orci eget eros faucibus tincidunt. Duis leo. Sed fringilla mauris sit amet nibh. Donec sodales sagittis magna.
Li Europan lingues es membres del sam familie. Lor separat existentie es un myth. Por scientie, musica, sport etc, litot Europa usa li sam vocabular. Li lingues differe solmen in li grammatica, li pronunciation e li plu commun vocabules. Omnicos directe al desirabilite de un nov lingua franca: On refusa continuar payar custosi traductores. At solmen va esser necessi far uniform grammatica, pronunciation e plu sommun paroles. Ma quande lingues coalesce, li grammatica del resultant lingue es plu simplic e regulari quam ti del coalescent lingues. Li nov lingua franca va esser plu simplic e regulari quam li existent Europan lingues. It va esser tam simplic quam Occidental in fact, it va esser Occidental. A un Angleso it va semblar un simplificat Angles, quam un skeptic Cambridge amico dit me que Occidental es.Li Europan lingues es membres del sam familie. Lor separat existentie es un myth. Por scientie, musica, sport etc, litot Europa usa li sam vocabular. Li lingues differe solmen in li grammatica, li pronunciation e li plu commun vocabules. Omnicos directe al desirabilite de un nov lingua franca: On refusa continuar payar custosi traductores. At solmen va esser necessi far uniform grammatica, pronunciation e plu sommun paroles.
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetuer adipiscing elit. Aenean commodo ligula eget dolor. Aenean massa. Cum sociis natoque penatibus et magnis dis parturient montes, nascetur ridiculus mus. Donec quam felis, ultricies nec, pellentesque eu, pretium quis, sem. Nulla consequat massa quis enim. Donec pede justo, fringilla vel, aliquet nec, vulputate eget, arcu. In enim justo, rhoncus ut, imperdiet a, venenatis vitae, justo. Nullam dictum felis eu pede mollis pretium. Integer tincidunt. Cras dapibus. Vivamus elementum semper nisi. Aenean vulputate eleifend tellus. Aenean leo ligula, porttitor eu, consequat vitae, eleifend ac, enim. Aliquam lorem ante, dapibus in, viverra quis, feugiat a, tellus. Phasellus viverra nulla ut metus varius laoreet. Quisque rutrum. Aenean imperdiet. Etiam ultricies nisi vel augue. Curabitur ullamcorper ultricies nisi. Nam eget dui. Etiam rhoncus. Maecenas tempus, tellus eget condimentum rhoncus, sem quam semper libero, sit amet adipiscing sem neque sed ipsum. Nam quam nunc, blandit vel, luctus pulvinar, hendrerit id, lorem. Maecenas nec odio et ante tincidunt tempus. Donec vitae sapien ut libero venenatis faucibus. Nullam quis ante. Etiam sit amet orci eget eros faucibus tincidunt. Duis leo. Sed fringilla mauris sit amet nibh. Donec sodales sagittis magna.
"Well. Time to send this to the Admiralty.. And see how much credits they do cough up. If not.. Well."
He said to himself, not noticing a man closing him on him. Receiving a slight tap on his shoulder, Meallan looked around and found himself looking at a man that was not in the project files. The man coveralls however signaled who he was. The symbol of the Liberty Navy Tech Corps sat squarely on his chest.
"Engineer Gunsmith, I suppose?"
He asked, hoping for a positive answer. He needed another set eyes used to Liberty old tech, and Benjamin's Gunsmith track record was exemplary in that regard. Lot of hours in the Siege Cruiser modernization project and a specialist in maintenance and W&T service. Just what an old Osiris needed.
Meallan nodded at his remark about the 'shopping list', and noted he was there to work, not to talk. With that in mind, Meallan opened the live view cameras of the berth, showing off the Hellbound.
"Not really. This one however used to cleave stuff in two."
He handed the datapad to Gunsmith and started to walk, signalling him to follow.
"I'm on loan, much like you to the Bretonians. I know my way around old ladies like this one, but we have a tight schedule to enforce. Two weeks."
He let it sink in as he called for the elevator. Gunsmith kept looking, changing cameras and zooming at the ship.
"I need another set of experienced eyes on old Liberty tech. That one is filled with it. I haven't found anything Lib related younger than 805 yet. Meaning she might be a first gen. So yeah. Going to need your help here. What do you say?"
The elevator opened with a ding and Meallan extended his arm, inviting Gunsmith in.
For the love of... How did you get your hands on this? Never mind. This baby really looks old. I take she wasn't mantained properly or you wouldnt need me.
He said while walking into the elevator.
Count me in on this, I wanted to get my hands on such a ship since forever.
His grin was evident. Gunsmith was a man with the same taste as Meallan when it came to fixing things. The oldies were always the challenges that were the most rewarding. And most complicated.
"Well... Seems their Commodore found it. Granted, by the state of it, it was sitting dead in space for a long, long time."
His finger clicked the last button, to descend to the ship access docking corridor, that was the main way to enter the Hellbound.
"So you got your space radiation that ate wiring and destroyed circuits, asteroid holes in the ablative armor, etc. We're still canvassing everything, but we already re-pressurized every section and plugged every hole, so we're working at full speed."
The elevator crossed a small external windowed section, showcasing the monster of a battleship that they would be working.
"For now, you'll be with me as we go through the main engineering teams. We got fifty to work with. Already juiced up to last longer. The Admiralty is pretty strict with the timetable and I don't aim to extend it."
Meallan's eyes traced the Hellbound. Things were looking up, and with a bit of luck, everything would run smoothly for the remainder of the project.
Roy and his team were in the engine section, finally inspecting its condition. One of his techs was operating a small drone traveling all of sealed engine compartments, while Roy and the rest was setting up their gear to start doing tests. His tech however called him.
“Dixon, the drone reached the combustion chamber.”
The usual grumbling came out of Roy's lips, as he stopped calibrating his radiation sensors and connected his pda to the drone's camera.
"Stop there!"
Dixon shouted, startling his team, as his eyes were fixed on the datapad's video. He took a snapshot, all the while his team walked towards him to see what was happening.
"What is it?"
A female technician called Lilly asked looking at the image.
Dixon grumbled and disconnected his pda from the drone, and turned to the woman in question.
"I'm calling the chief. Whoever shut the engine down years ago, didn't purged the fuel from the chamber, and it corroded the main support beam. H-Fuel does that if you don't clear all the fuel cells and components."
His fingers started typing a message and attached the picture. As he finished, he looked up and saw the eyes of his team, all of them, looking at him, waiting for an answer. Or a solution.
"Only way to fix this is to unmount the engine, break it apart piece by piece, clean it and change the affected parts. And that takes at least a month or two."
The drone operator sighed as continued the journey deep into the engine sections.
"So we can't do anything?"
"Yeah, we can. The chief won't like it though."
Dixon replied, putting his datapad away and resuming the calibration. Silence fell in the small support chamber, as people were waiting for Dixon to speak.
"We unmount the engine and we mount one of our own PTE-40. Thing is.. For this chamber size.. And with our MOX mixture.."
He looked around.
"The powercore needs to deliver more power to kick-start the combustion."
Dixon's hands were moving automatically as he pulled a small optical chip from his sensor and he looked at it for defects.
Officer’s quarters were a quaint place, a bed, a desk and dimly lit. Though it was really all Mara felt was needed, currently at her desk with only the light of her Neural Net terminal illuminating her face as she went over the report of the inspection team she lead regarding its electrical components. She was pleasantly surprised. It wasn’t completely destroyed and aspects were working fine and could be safely ignored till a later date when time was less of a factor. Still the old ship had seen quite a fair amount of abuse and would still need practically all of her communications lines to be replaced.
“And that means plasfoam conduits and kilometers of the stuff, multiple gauges of it as well.” she muttered to herself making a note to notify Sinclair about exactly how much will be needed.
The entire internal communication network will need to be redone, replacing the computers with Bretonian standards would probably be a smart choice too, familiar software for her future crew and shouldn’t take too long. As long as we can procure them in a timely manner, actual installation shouldn’t take too long.
“As for the powergrid itself, we probably want to replace the capacitor banks of the ship too, they work but they’re vital to the ship’s combat capabilities. And still show quite a bit of wear from Hellbound’s stint in space as a derelict.”
Supposedly
Hellbound, this whole thing still made no sense to Mara. Some old rogue Battleship operated by terrorists then mercenaries just falls in the lap of the Armed Forces? All lead by some completely unknown man with intimate knowledge of the ship itself from its history to its technical specifications whilst insisting on remaining unnamed. She was well aware of ‘need to know’ for the military and where not to poke her nose too much in stuff like this. Still did not change the fact it rubbed her the wrong way. That and somehow the Commodore pulled this whole thing together.
She sighed, “Too much stuff is under the table for my tastes, at least we can get another warship to help our stretched capital forces. Fun opportunity to work on something other than usual Bretonian tech as well.”
An hour later
“Well that's the report done, replace the communications and electronics, touch up some of the powergrid and replace the capacitor banks, should be doable within two weeks. Lets forward this to the chief and get that manifest to Sinclair.”
She looked over at the almost empty bag of coffee beans. “Probably going to need to get some more of that though, will be a long two weeks at that.”
A day later, Meallan was rubbing his eyes, as he tried to focus on the calculations of the power draw that a new engine would have. What was a small meeting room was in fact Meallan's office/bedroom, with a small sleeping bag on the floor alongside a multitude of papers and data-pads. He sighed, and leaned on his hand, looking through the window. Sparks flew off the Hellbound forward aft, another hull plate being replaced. His eyes looked at it, but his mind was somewhere.
"To be this fast.. It has to be a Bret engine."
He talked to himself, reassuring his mind once again on his decision. To have the ship back into shape in time, the engine would have to be replaced, not repaired. And with the time constraints, only Bretonian capital class engines were available to move that much tonnage effectively. His eyes moved again towards the data-pad in his hands. The simulation numbers were solid and accurate. Almost 12% more power draw was needed to keep the engines running and burning.
"Better that than nothing."
He picked up another data-pad and sent the requisition to the Admiralty Board. His hand found a beer can and he sipped, leaning back in the chair.
"Time to rev this up then."
He got up and stretched himself. After a lazy couple of seconds, he picked his toolbag and one of the data-pads with the engineering details of the project. Finally donning the gravrad suit, he looked again through the window at the old Osiris. Dixon's team was already disassembling the engine and would be in need of an extra set of hands. And Meallan was more than willing.
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