A brief, shrill alarm blares through the cabin, followed by cold voice. "The time is 5:30 standard Manhattan time."
Erynel turned around in his bunk, murmuring to himself. "Blast ye Azer, lemme sleep in fer once. D'n yer clock e'er stall?"
The ships computer system however, was functioning properly, and exactly a minute later, the shrill alarm sounded, twice as loud this time. "The time is 5:31 standard Manhattan time."
"Arrigh', arrigh'." Erynel muttered, and sat up in his bunk. "Whaddaye have fer us t'day Azer? Anythin' worthwhoile?"
"Three reports of outcast activity along the Freeport 10 area are noted by reconnicance craft from Falkland. Holman base reports several small skirmishes between Kusari and Bretonian forces inside it's sensor range. Freistadt base reports several Hessian contacts lost at the edge of sensor range, presumed destroyed by Corsair forces..." Erynel sighed, thinking to himself, so what else's new? "... Aland shipyard reports construction on the Cristina Vey ore hauler is complete. Freeport 6 reports normal operations. No update was received from the Pecos mining operation."
"Say wha? Pecos be silent? Tha's odd." Erynel mumbled, mostly to himself. The computer interpreted as a request for more information.
"Upon missing the required status update, a scouting party was launched from Holman base at 5:05 standard Manhattan time. They are not due back for another hour."
"Arrigh' Azer. Keep me posted on tha'."
"Affirmative."
It did not take too long for him to get dressed. The one handy thing about such a massive miner as the Hegemon: You did not need to skimp on crew space. Most of the hard, and dangerous ore processing and handling was being done by the several dozen androids aboard, leaving a generous amount of extra space to the five man human crew, even after the converted space for android maintenance and storage was taken into account.
Stepping out into the hall, he met up with his second crewman, John Sanders. The two were a very different breed. Erynel, born and raised as a miner on Leeds, having left the BMM after a nasty fallout with one of the middle managers, and some legal wrangling. John on the other hand had served as an officer in the Royal Navy, until he was dishonorably discharged. Erynel had picked the man up at Holman, not long after he turned freelancer. He was a capable officer and diplomat, but liked his synthweed every now and then. It may be a problem for the Bretonian Armed Forces, but it wasn't for Ery.
John stepped past, towards the bridge area. He was always the first one there, preparing the ship for departure, running preflight checks, checking reports and warnings. A good man to have.
Erynel headed for the galley, to get some breakfast, leaving the bridge to John. Last to arrive there -as usual-, but such was the chief's perogative... He always made sure the galley was well stacked, at whichever port they made berth on. After all, deep space mining could see you in space for some time.
"'Ow are ye lads th'n?" Ery called out. A pained glare from Daniel Fisher told him all he needed to know.
"Molly whiskey again? Ye been dippin' inta Zed's stash?" Erynel grinned. The man had fun last night, but he was sure paying for it now. Still, a few headclearers and some water, he'd be good as new. Heck, he was one of the best bot mechanics he'd yet seen, and sure kept his mechanical crew in working order.
Next to him was Jimmy Raines, an engineer who had transferred in from Freeport 6. Probably a Libertonian by origin, but he didn't talk much about his past. Quiet guy, perhaps a bit too quiet for Erynel's taste, but he did his job well. "All systm's in workin'order, Jimmy?" All he got in response was a nod. For Erynel, that was good enough.
At the far end of the table was Rick Patterson, though everyone called him Rocky aboard the Carsten. Rick was an ore processor expert, and operated the mining machinery in the bowels of the ship, overseeing the androids working there. Usually a loud and boisterous type, a good meal always shut him up. Or rather, stuffed his mouth so full that he was physically unable to talk. "Enjoyin' th' Kushi bread oi see, Rockey?" "Mhmm, rwl gwld!"
Erynel shook his head and grabbed a few buns from the oven. The galley droid always prepared the meal five minutes ahead of wakeup. He left the men to their meal and headed for the bridge.
John was already sitting at the helm, analysing sensor readings and reports. "Looks like the Kusari got a bloody nose overnight." he said, somewhat proudly. Erynel shrugged. He didn't care much for the war. It was way too close to Java for his tastes, and Holman had already taken a pounding from crossfire, on several occasions. "Still, most of the Armed Forces withdrew victoriously, and there's reports of several junker vessels scouring the remains of the battleground."
"Yech, Junkers. Give tha' area a woide berth, willya?"
"Will do chief. Looks like a good day to head to Dublin though. The Hood has reported only minor skirmishes between Corsair and Molly fighters, and there seems to be a considerable amount of police in the system. An unusual amount, even."
"Meh. Mayhap th' Graves boss be headin' on a lil trip. Oi hope they run inta one o' their own spacemoines."
"Be that as it may, with that much law in the system, most blackguards will be laying low. A good time to mine there."
Erynel mulled it over a while, then nodded. "Foine. Set a course an' let Java know we be departin' fer th' Hood. Oh. An' catch." He tossed John a still-warm bun, then sat down next to him. The autonav could handle the trip to the Tau 29 hole, at half burn. Once his breakfast was done he'd take manual control and take her up to three quarters. But he was in no hurry. Dublin would be busy as usual, it was best to enjoy the quiet while one could.
Wide awake in a world that sleeps, enduring thoughts, enduring scenes. The knowledge of what is yet to come.
From a time when all seems lost, from a dead man to a world, without restraint, unafraid and free.
Mostly retired Discovery member. May still visit from time to time.
"Approaching ore field Dublin five." Azer's cold voice sounded through the bridge, if you could call it that. Sure, it was wide enough to make you feel like it was more then a cockpit, with more instrumentation then that of your average fighter of course, but he did the flying himself, largely. Erynel liked it that way, he didn't like the feeling of striding around and issuing orders. No. He wanted to do the job -himself-.
"Arrigh lads. 'Ere we go." he said, and with a few taps on the console in front of him, the cruise engines disengaged, slowing the vessel down. "Full scan, foind us an area on the edge o 'the field with few mines clustered, Az'r."
"Scanning. Standby..." Azer replied. "Potential location found, bearing three three four, mark two one. Highlighting location with waypoint marker."
Erynel eased the miner over on manual, remaining outside the field while approaching visual range. Only when he could see where he was going did he turn into the mine-laden field. Sure, he knew from experience most of the mines were a low yield type, designed to deter enemy fighters from harassing the heavier mining vessels inside. But their detonation radius proved problematic, sometimes, as asteroids in the process of being harvested would typically disintegrate. That, and the fact that he ran across a Buster mine once was enough for him to try and avoid them.
"Easy now lad..." he mumbled to himself. He was moving at less then half speed, while debris and smaller asteroids were pelting his shield. Not half a minute later, he came to a dead stop, as Azer announced "Destination, reached."
A few more console commands brought the mining turrets online. Accurate nickname for the light graviton cannons. Useful tools though, rapidly firing small graviton charges that draw more dense material, like ore, into a ball before the charge dissipated. Remaining scrap material would usually disintegrate into a fine dust and stick around the oreball, until the gravcharge dissipated... then drift away, leaving a concentrated packet of ore that a tractor could lock on to. For gaseous or liquid mining the charge could be intensified, effectively solidifying concentrations of gaseous materials briefly. It was more tricky to do though, as the gases had to be tractored while the charge was still active, or the gas would dissipate. The Gas Miners Guild had perfected this art, using it on fields with pockets of high concentration valuable gases. But his own turrets had stuck to the "ore hammer" mode for months... he only ever switched them if one of the bases was in urgent need of water or oxygen, and none could be traded.
The turrets started to lock on to the smaller, free floating asteroids, and soon the dull hum from the ships cargo tractor fired on occasion, signaling they were indeed on the gold. Erynel tapped the console twice to deactivate it, then put his feet up on top of it and closed his eyes.
Humm.... hummhummm... humm. The tractor's firing rate by itself was an indication of how long this was going to take. It wasn't the best spot he'd ever been on from the sound of it, but not the worst either.
The "bridge" door opened. Startled, he looked up to see John, shaking his head.
"Running the gravs with your feet now, chief?" he said, grinning.
"Ach. Jes' tryin' ta get a feel fer the field. Oi think this sh'd take nae more then twenty minutes." Erynel replied.
"Current yield average indicates full capacity will be reached in twenty two minutes, five seconds." Azer announced, surprising Erynel. "Who asked ye?"
The presentient AI did not reply. It had been behaving oddly of late, Erynel had noticed. Ever since they ran into that friendly drone. Seemed almost as if Azer was trying to anticipate the crew requests. He had never done so before...
Another "hummmhummm" sound, a bit more intense drew his attention. He looked up, out into space, into the orefield. "Eh. Ye'r doin' yer job oi suppose." he mumbled, as several small oreballs were tractored to the ore preprocessing bay.
"Scanners read no contacts in range, friendly or otherwise." John announced, having taken his place. "Still, I'm plotting the most direct course to Essex, just in case unfriendlies show. Even with the Mollies going more or less friendly, the same cannot be said from the Corsairs, or even the damned Junkers."
"Gotcha John. Lemme know the minute ye think we should be headin' off. Nae sense ta take risks we nae need ta. Has th' guild respond'd ta our request fer an escort yet?"
"Yes, it was approved. A scout fighter will be assigned to us as soon as one is available, which should not take more then a few days. Until then I recommend caution though."
"Ye, oi hear ya. We'll be..."
"Contact closing, chief!" John interrupted. "Resolving... Ah, it's Armed Forces, probably on patrol. We're being scanned."
"Tha's arright. Hail 'im?"
"No response... he's engaging cruise and moving off in the direction of the southern field. I don't like this chief... it's not like the armed forces to be in such a hurry unless there's trouble."
"Azer, cargo hold status."
"78 percent filled, and rising. Estimated time to full capacity... three minutes twelve seconds." Erynel frowned. Another unsollicited estimation, albeit a useful one.
"John. Focus main scanners in th' direction the lad went. First soign o' trouble, we make us scarce an' get the heck outta here. Also, plot fer the Hood. Essex be probably where th' trouble be brewin."
"As you say chief."
Erynel looked out the window and sighed. Never a dull day, he thought.
Wide awake in a world that sleeps, enduring thoughts, enduring scenes. The knowledge of what is yet to come.
From a time when all seems lost, from a dead man to a world, without restraint, unafraid and free.
Mostly retired Discovery member. May still visit from time to time.
