All That Glitters Ch. 46

"Control, roger, we show you as moving slightly away from the station. Unless you diverge with the station by a greater margin, we will be forced to fire on you to turn you or to destroy your ship, over."

************

Fiona sat in her command chair in Central Control watching the activity on the Tactical Link. The ship was slowly veering away from the station but not quickly enough as far as Fiona was concerned.

"We show half a degree of separation, Ma'am," SOps called out.

"Half a degree is not enough. If that ship cannot separate by more than a full degree by the time it gets to 500km, we will use torpedo impacts to turn it," Fiona ordered.

************

Helga heard Fiona's pronouncement over the Tactical Link and noted that she was the lead ship out, which meant she would be the one firing on that ship.

"Weapons O, unlock the boards, Tac O, get me a solution that will cause the least damage to that ship if it doesn't turn," Helga ordered to a chorus of 'Aye, Sirs!'

"Two thousand kilometers and closing, Ma'am," Science called out.

"Plot completed, Sir. We have a solution for the torpedo," the Tac O called out.

"Stand-by to engage," Helga ordered as the ship picked up speed.

"Vice Admiral Marsh, are you sure you want to engage this ship, Ma'am," Helga requested over the Tactical Link, for the record.

"We have no choice, Helga. If they haven't turned by more than one degree by the time they reach 500km. we will fire on that ship in order to protect the station. That is an order, Capt. Hellebore," Fiona stated.

"Understood, Ma'am," Helga replied, praying the ship diverged enough.

"Sir, I am showing more than one degree of separation by the ship," Science called out two minutes later.

Helga breathed a sigh of relief. "Maintain our status, keep a lock on that ship until I say otherwise," Helga ordered.

"Winston, this is NS Kindalla, Capt. Helga Hellebore commanding. What is the nature of your emergency, over?"

"Winston, we don't know at this time. We came out several thousands of kilometers from where we should have, with less speed than anticipated. Then the engines were not responding as they should have," Capt. Winston replied. They could hear alarms going off in the background.

"ChEng, any ideas?" Helga asked.

"Several. I'd have to get an electronic readout from the ship, but I don't want to do that until we have a lot more separation from the station, in case this is a feint, Capt." the ChEng responded.

"Agreed. Winston, this is the Kindalla. We are coming alongside you to maneuver you out of the way. We will take a read off your systems in a couple of minutes to see what we can do for you. Be ready to send, over."

"Winston, roger. We are starting to see a little more control over the engines, but not much. We are providing more separation from the station, over."

"Kindalla, roger, we see that. We are maneuvering toward you, over."

"Pilot, we need to get within electronic grappling range of that ship as quickly as we can. I want to maneuver it out of the way and then begin slowing it down, without harming this ship," Helga ordered.

"Aye, Sir. We will be alongside in twenty seconds, Sir."

"Winston, roger we heard that, out."

"Engineering, how do we link to the Winston?" Helga demanded.

"We should use the self-diagnostic mode, Sir," the Asocan of the pair responded.

"Explain? I thought that it was just that, a means for the self-diagnosis of this ship?" Helga asked.

"Yes, Sir, but the computer doesn't know which ship is which," the Asoc, whom Helga remembered was named Satec, replied. "We simply need to take the feed from that ship, put it into the diagnostic system of this computer, and let it find the problems."

"I wasn't aware we could do that," the Ex O said quietly from Helga's left.

"You know the old adage, 'If someone is trying to do the impossible, don't tell them it is impossible until they have had a good try at it'," Helga replied to her Ex O, Cdr. Elizabeth Bretton, who sagely nodded her head.

"See to it, Satec. I am counting on you to get it right," Helga replied.

"Sir, we are alongside and ready to grapple," the Pilot said.

"Roger that. ChEng, are the grapples ready?" Helga demanded through all-ships.

"Aye, Ma'am, they have been since you called for their need," the ChEng replied.

"Winston, this is The Kindalla, we are about to grapple with your hull, do not attempt any maneuvers while we are hooked together, over" Helga ordered through comms.

"Winston, acknowledged. All our hands are away from the boards, over."

"Roger. ChEng, engage the grapples."

"Aye, Sir, engaging now," Helga felt the ship shudder and then it rumbled in discord with the other ship. "Grapples locked, the boards are showing a good lock, Sir."

"Roger that. Pilot, give us some more separation from the station and then begin to slow our combined mass down, very, very slowly," Helga instructed the pilot.

"Aye, Captain!"

The Kindalla had grappled the Winston on the opposite side of the direction they wanted to push the ship. The pilot pushed power to the sub-lights providing more separation from the station. The combined ships began to clearly move away from the station on the Tactical Link. As soon as he felt comfortable about the amount of separation, the Pilot began braking. He very gently slowed the combined mass of the vessels.

"We are ready for the feed, Sir," the human component of the Engineer's station informed Helga.

"Roger that. Winston, Kindalla. Send your feed on the comms channel I am sending you. We want to keep our current channel open for discussions between us, over."

"Winston, roger, we see the channel you want to use. Sending feed now, out."

A moment later, the Engineering station indicated that it was getting the feed. As soon as they had it all, they fed it through the self-diagnostic program. A few minutes later, they had their answer.

"It looks like two Type 53-M wiring harnesses burned out, Ma'am," Engineering called out.

"Ex O?" Helga demanded.

The Ex O was already looking at the ships stores. "Aye, Ma'am. This is a common wiring harness; we have several spares. We can provide the required harnesses and some hands to help install them. Good practice for our trainees," the Ex O said with a smile.

"Satec, you will take three of the Asocan Engineer trainees with you. The Ex O will provide two wiring harnesses. Take out the old ones and replace them with the new ones. Then make sure they do a full diagnostic and load test before engaging those new harnesses," Helga commanded.

"Aye, Aye, Sir!" Satec snapped and began to move.

"Pilot?"

"Sir, I have reduced our combined speed by ten percent. Will continue to do so, Ma'am," the Pilot replied instantly.

"Roger, carry-on." The Captain directed. "Comms O, make sure to notify the Winston that we are sending Asocan Techs to their ship."

"Aye, Ma'am," the Comms O replied, smiling. She could just imagine what the crew of the Winston would do if they were confronted, unawares, by Asocan Techs.

Five minutes later, the four trainee crewmembers were in their EVA suits and ready to transfer to the stricken ship. Fifteen minutes later, they had one of the harnesses replaced, however, the second was proving difficult to access.

"Kindalla, Winston, the second harness is proving difficult to access while under way, over."

"Suggestions?" Helga asked.

"Captain, it is Satec. The second harness appears to be a failsafe that, well, failed. However, if we push a load into the first harness, we should have control back over the sub-light engines if we ignore the failsafe warnings from the computer."

"ChEng?" Helga demanded.

"Seems good to me. The worst that can happen is we burn out the harness and they already have a spare with them. The main harness should last long enough to get the ship under control and get it to Liramor-23," the ChEng replied.

"Very well. Capt. Enbride, you should do a load test on the system. If she holds, then we will give you control of the ship, over." Helga suggested, as she could not order another captain not under her command.

"Roger, we have already started the load test. We are at sixty percent load and it appears to be holding so far. We do not need more than sixty percent to turn the ship and bring it under control, over."

"Roger. We are disengaging the grapples. We will pick up our people from the station. Your ship Captain." Helga advised.

"Thank-you Kindalla, especially for not firing on my ship, over."

"Yes, that was the preferred outcome this time, Winston. Kindalla, out."

"Ex O, have the Boatswain write up Satec for a Captain's Commendation. We should push it up the chain of command and see how far this one goes," Helga said with a smile to her Ex O.

Director's Office, Central Command, Delta Deck, Liramor-23, The Piscium System

Fiona sat alone in her office, the windows blacked out, as she contemplated what had almost happened. She had ordered that her vessels shoot at an unarmed civilian vessel in order to protect the station. Semantically, she knew what she had done was the right move, however, it still left her feeling wrong.

Fayad came into the office and sat down in front of her.

"How the hell did you get in when I had locked everything down?" Fiona asked, surprised.

"I declared a medical emergency and, as the Assistant Director, the computer opened for me," he said with a shrug.

"YOU WHAT??!!" Fiona shouted.

"Tell me I'm wrong?" Fayad snapped, leaning forward, looking hard into her eyes. "I can see the strain of what just happened has had on you.

"Why are you in here, alone, with all the windows blacked out and comms shut down? I know what just happened. You had to make a decision to potentially save the station. It was a hard decision but a necessary one. If the Winston had not been able to turn, the Kindalla would have had to engage it. Civilian vessels are not as strongly built as navy vessels. Shooting at it would most likely have seriously damaged if not destroyed it.

"You had to make that decision but it doesn't sit well with you does it? Well welcome to the real universe, Fiona. At this level, we, both of us, have to make decisions that will leave a bad taste in our mouths.

"But hiding away from your people is not the thing to do after such a decision is made. Right now, your people need to know they did well in this instance, that they saved a ship and its crew. Only one person can tell them that..."

Fayad stood up, giving her a withering look.

"I'm going out into Ops. I suggest you not be long behind me. By the way, Hanalei is making Marcretle for tonight's evening meal. Care to join us?" Fayad asked.

Fiona blinked at Fayad, who just grinned back at her.

"Your public is waiting," he said and left her office.

"Merde," Fiona muttered under her breath. She turned to her sink, wiped her face, straightened her jumpsuit and walked out into Ops.

"Status?" she demanded as soon as she sat in the Command Chair, unceremoniously displacing Fayad.

"The Winston is almost to station, Ma'am," SOps responded immediately.

"The Kindalla?" Fiona asked.

"Already back in her parking orbit. They will send a shuttle for their missing crew as soon as the Winston is docked," SOps informed her.

"Very good, get me a channel to the Kindalla, please," Fiona ordered.

"They are still up on the Tactical Link, Ma'am," Comms replied.

"Kindalla, Central Command, Director Marsh speaking. Well done to you and your crew, Capt. Hellebore. We had a couple of hard options that had to be made. I am glad that you and your ship were able to bring us a third. Kudos to your ship, Helga. Thank-you for sparing me some nightmares," Fiona said, the staff in Central Control listening carefully and nodding in response to her words.

"Roger that, Dir. Marsh. We too, are pleased that we didn't have to use the other option. We can thank the fates for that. The crew, including the trainees, all did well. In fact, one of our trainees has figured out a new way for us to use our engineering comps for diagnosing another ship, something I and my senior staff were not aware we could do. I am thinking of making this a standard use for all Navy ships, which will mean you get to send it to the other Sector Commanders.

"Glad I don't have to deal with that paperwork," Helga retorted, getting a relieved laugh from Fiona.

"Thank-you, Helga. I needed that laugh. Send me the paperwork, sounds like someone needs some kind of recognition. Marsh, out."

"Comms O, close out the Tactical Link as soon as the Winston is docked," Fiona ordered.

"Aye, Ma'am," the Comms O came back immediately, with a smile on her face.

"Fayad, Marcretle sounds good, if your family will have me for supper?" Fiona asked.

"I'll have them set an extra plate, Fiona. I think we could all use some family time tonight."

Fiona just gave him a nod. She was certain that she would be holding tightly to one of his daughters before, and possibly even after, supper tonight...

Large Maintenance Bay, Liramor-23, The Piscium System

Fiona had barely started her day when her presence had been requested to the large maintenance bay in which the Winston currently sat. It took her fifteen minutes to make her way down to the bay, where she was met by the station's Chief of Maintenance, William Baker.

"What have we got Bill?" Fiona wanted to know.

"You remember what happened to the Churchill?" Baker asked. Fiona gave him a nod to continue. "Same company did the maintenance on this ship. The guts, especially the wiring harnesses hidden behind bulkheads, have not been touched. This wasn't an accident, this was attempted murder as far as I am concerned," Baker stated.

"When did she go in for refit?" Fiona asked.

"Two years before the Churchill. If we go by what Pallanders had said about the five year impact of the none-work, we can expect many ships to start seeing the downside of all of this fraudulent work, soon. Commercial companies will wait longer to put their ships in for refit, which means they will have problems shy of the five year mark the Navy envisioned.

"The Winston will not be the last ship that will have these problems. We need to send out a commercial advisory to all companies about the results of this company's work, today, now, before another ship has problems," Baker informed his boss.

"I'll put out a 'Notice to Spacers' through the Navy, immediately. That way, this company, and others, cannot come back against Liramor Holdings on this issue. Thanks Bill. Quick work on this.

"What happens with this ship now?" Fiona inquired.

"She is no longer space worthy, Fiona, which means you have to ground her. The captain is already aware. I have shown him the guts of his ship. He is really pissed. His company will now be a ship down. What's worse, he believes that his wasn't the only ship that his company had refit done with these bastards. He thinks his company is about to lose nine ships, all at once. It could break them, boss."

"I'll give Pallanders a call. I think that Liramor Prime commercial enterprises might suddenly find themselves in serious difficulty. Send me your results as soon as you can. Send Capt. Enbride to my office in Central Command as soon as possible. This is going to hit Liramor Prime like a bombshell."

Fiona swiftly moved up to her office and contacted Annette at Liramor Holdings.

"Hi, Fiona," Annette started, then was stopped suddenly by the look on Fiona's face.

"OK, what happened?" Annette demanded.

Fiona swiftly filled her in. As she was speaking, Capt. Enbride came to her office and she signalled him in.

"Annette Liramor, Capt. Enbride of the SSP Winston, the ship is question," Fiona introduced them.

"I would say good day to you, Captain, however, I know this is not such." Several people were filing into Annette's office as they spoke, including her father, Antoine Liramor.

Fiona swiftly informed them of what had happened to the NS Churchill, which some of those present remembered the incident. She then told them the same thing had happened to the Winston and that Capt. Enbride suspects that up to nine of his company's ships might have been serviced by the same company.

Antoine called François Pallanders and filled him in.

"Well, after the Navy got a look at the none-work that had been completed on navy ships, that company went bankrupt. Capt. Enbride, your company and other companies that used this rather shady business, are out of luck for recompense.

"Fiona, you will have to put out the Notice to Spacers soonest. I will call President Lapierre immediately and inform him of what is coming. This is likely to require emergency funding to many of Liramor Prime's companies. Quick work, Fiona. We'll take it from here."

Antoine cut the link as Dianne Ancien came into Fiona's Office.

"Dianne, please find accommodations for Capt. Enbride and his crew. They might be here for some time," Fiona informed her.

Presidential Compound, Capital City, Terra

"You want to do what?" Adm. Ramison asked angrily.

"It is our fault, George," Fiona was telling the people on the screen, "that these companies are in this predicament. It was our Notice to Spacemen that caused their ships to be suspect.

"We have to do something to help them. Raymond and Liea are providing the funds for company loans, including Pallanders, who will need the money to build new cages and pay wages for the extra engineers. That will only help Pallanders in the long run as they need the extra cages for the upcoming builds they need to start.

"Pallanders is stretched for funds right now with the large number of freshly started projects it has taken on, not the least of which is Pallanders-6 and Liramor-31, which they are building for the Liramor Mining Company," Fiona explained.

"How are we going to sell this?" Jason Cantor, the President's Chief of Staff demanded.

"As the first ever use of the Mutual Support Pact," Fiona said with a smile. "The Greater Community has come to our aid at our request for support by providing the necessary engineering support to help us in our time of crisis."

"Well, shit. That would put things in a different light," Charles Ronter, the Minister for Foreign Affairs remarked.

The President laughed. "Do we have the necessary numbers of instructors/supervisors, George?" he asked.

"We do, Mr. President. That kind of workforce is readily available. The issue will be in the accommodation. There simply isn't any in space around Liramor Prime," Ramison replied.

"Put them up at the base. If I remember rightly, ten-hour shifts are the norm in space. We can arrange for transport up and down from the base," the President suggested.

"You know, that could actually work. It would make for a slightly longer workday, but hell, there is plenty of personnel, you could make three shifts with one shift off at any one time. That would allow them to shop and sightsee on Liramor Prime, which the local merchants wouldn't mind," Ramison laughed.

"Sounds like we have everything together then?" Fiona asked.

"I'd say so," Jason Cantor responded. "We just need the government of Liramor Prime to put in the request.

The Senate, Liramor City, Liramor Prime, The Liramor System, Thirty Light Years from Terra

The news hit the planet like a bombshell. Over fifty commercial ships had been serviced by the now defunct company, the count of ships was increasing day-by-day, putting fourteen shipping businesses at risk.

The Liramor Senate was in a quandary, they had no idea how to manage this situation and were now in an emergency, closed-door session debating the incident.

"These are commercial companies," Senator Muriel Arsenault explained. "They take the risk when they make mistakes."