Shackleton - Operation Have Sea

[Shulsky]

Guerrero Asteroid Cloud, Vespucci System
31 JAN 835 AS

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The smell of fresh-made coffee and muffled hum of machinery filled the wardroom as they slowly filtered in. Booth had taken up his usual spot, a time-worn recliner in the corner, with a steaming tin cup in both hands and a heavy coat draped over both shoulders. There'd been something absolutely wonderful about taking a shower and fresh clothes after a few days, he'd been looking forward to it after dealing with all those...people and the like on only nutrient injects and recycled water.

A deep breath. He still really didn't enjoy remembering the faces, the postures, the looks, but there they were and there it was. People died and it was a fact, the Zoner told himself, and he’d distracted himself by fussing over the dead for long enough. He’d put off the meeting, even if the XO and CHENG wanted it, and Booth watched them file in with the rest of the Powhatan's leadership, Bosun and MPA, Electro and the rest. A deep breath, then a long draught of the coffee, as he waited for them to pick through, pour their coffee, take their seats.

Booth left the silence fill the room before he started. "O-kay. Engine light-off for the cruiser is scheduled for day after tomorrow, zero nine. We'll cut lines at eight?"

A gesture to Bosun prompted the bald man to suck his lip before nodding. They'd need to cut all lines in case there was a bit of thrust to the engines or the whole issue would make problems. Some malfunction wouldn't be alright, Booth knew, and the rest of them knew too. "Eight'll give enough time to reel back fuel and transit lines. Muster em all up at zero seven thirty or so for my end."

"Engineering will have to muster what...six, to get over there?"

"Six works, but..." CHENG's mouth went wry with an unspoken little complaint before he sighed, shaking his head. "We're putting in a lot for this, especially to just scrap the thing. What exactly is your plan here?"

Booth swallowed, leaning back a fraction. "We bring her online enough for travel, then back to Bering. At that point, it either becomes study material for our shipwrights or a more complete restoration."

"Bristol Bay doesn't have the facilities for that, boss. You know it doesn't. So...what, definitely going to study with a maybe for restoration?"

The XO, Keen, piped-up. "No shipyard in Liberty will take us. They wouldn't let a former Insurgency ship like this through even on a normal day and DSE will puppet them with all the crap going on in Galileo. Only other route is through Rheinland. What...Alster? Rheinlanders there have their hands full with other contracts, don't they?"

"Assuming they even let us through."

Booth let it flare out and away before dying down, taking another long sip of his coffee. They were as sharp as he hoped, through somewhat forgetful of a few factors. "The Rheinlanders will let us through because that cruiser, in their eyes, is going to Bristol Bay purely as a research object. That or we cut a deal with them, depending how pliable they're willing to be. We're not taking her to Alster though, you're right they do have their hands full."

CHENG was the first to get it, though he got it with a frown. They'd contracted out before, though it'd only been a train last Booth recalled. "Unioners? At Pacifica? Why in the good hell would they help us to make a cruiser work? Why the hell would they not just steal the thing?"

"Bristol is becoming one of the few friends the Unioners have in that corner of the sector. Well. 'Friends' is strong for what there is, but the Corsairs don't build their ships at Pacifica, nor can the LWB afford them, nor does the Bundschuh trust them, independent pirates can't crew what's normally built at Pacifica, and the Red Hessians have always hated them. Right now, far as I can tell, Pacifica builds for Pacifica and that sort of cycle doesn't bring in the credits. They sure don't raid enough to bring in the credits. So...there we are." He swallowed, frowning just a little. "As for why they don't just steal it, well...because by that time, Pacifica's precise coordinates will have been sent back to Bristol Bay. We disappear, they disappear with Rheinland or Liberty blowing them straight to hell."

"Why would they even help us, though. And what will the Rheinlanders think?"

"Full design schematics for the ship, which will help them out a bunch...Unioners are still engineers, some of them...and a payment for materials and labor should cover things pretty well. As for the Rheinland government, well, we just don’t tell them. Bristol Bay did a miracle, and that'd be that."

"Hell...why not just bring it into Alster, then?"

"Because Rheinland might be less nervous with a possible warship than a definite that-is-the-plan warship, Alster will cost more, they're up to the eyeballs in contracts with the RMF already, and it'll piss off the Unioners who are a good bit closer in Bering, Electro."

Keen was taking a sip of his own mug before setting it down, leaning forwqrds in his chair with hands clasped before him. Booth frowned, raising one eyebrow unconsciously at the motion which clear enough said the XO had something of his own to say. "Alright, let's assume lying to New Berlin and dealing with those pirates is alright with everyone here. What then? Keeping the ship in Bering is just another cost for nothing gained while we can't move up through Liberty because, well...it's Liberty. So what? Out to the Omicrons? One more cruiser to support Phoenix won't break the Corsairs and even if it did, Pygar doesn't get us jack except points with everyone hating Corsairs."

"Calm down Keen. Dealing with pirates is a part of life. It'll support Bristol interests in Galileo, where our platinum mining is. Guard and supply miners, as well as show the Bristol flag. We'll move her up through Sigmas and the Copernicus corridor."

"Doesn't GMG get a say in that?"

"They're probably are as well armed as any group at this point and if everything is going to be publicly seen for the ship, can't start running blockades left and right. We'll have to talk to them, too." Booth looked about the room, palm outstretched to each. "Well? Any other questions?"

"I still don't like it, but...hell, no."

A pause filled the room as the Zoner captain waited, weighed out what else there was to discuss and contemplate. Finally he broke the silence. "She'll need a name. Can't do anything too close to Insurgent names or else New Manhattan will start screaming. I figure...Shackleton, that explorer we're named for, sailed in ancient days aboard the Endeavor. This seems to be our endeavor, too. Anyone hate it?"

"I hate it."

"Keith, you'd name every battleship The Big One if you could."

"Well, yeah."

"Anyone else?"

A breath passed before Bosun spoke. "Seems to work, yeah. It's not horrible."

"A ringing endorsement if I've ever heard one. Okay, we'll start up again day after tomorrow, assemble here at five thirty.”
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02 FEB 835 AS

“All stations, set boards to green.”

The bridge of the Judicator - to which Booth had taken to calling his Endeavor in his own personal thoughts - had been fairly clean originally. He’d supposed it had been one of the places the crew had originally evacuated when radiation and gasses had flooded the vessel. They’d found the ubiquitous hard-plastic blue folders here and there, messages being routed and chit requests for qualifications that’d been halfway abandoned once Veracruz had all gone to hell. They’d found coffee mugs still clamped to the sides of consoles by magnets - “world’s best dad”. It had been a curious and curious time.

Now, the bridge was crowded with bulky atmospheric suits. They’d gotten the reactor up, that was true enough, but the teams were stull in the process of cleaning out all the ventilation systems as well as testing and securing a corridor of spaces that were still structurally sound. A number of seams had opened up along the outer hull, between battle damage and simply being in the cloud, and more than a few would have to be re-sealed again at drydock. For now, the bridge was full of bulky atmospheric suits and lanterns mag-clamped to the walls and overhead.

“Set boards to green, aye. Engineering, bridge, set board to green for engine ignition.”

The comms circuit crackled with the response, as well as a number of other responses throughout the bridge. CHENG had been hard at work with figuring out the primary drive’s damage and certifying the maneuvering thrusters for start-up, though he’d made a point that a number of problems might arise from starting-up the drum. Lucky enough as Booth saw it, most the damage was relegated to the forward primary hull while the drum had been pretty well clear of destruction save for the normal impacts from small bits in an asteroid field. Booth paused, waiting, watching.

It was a dialogue without dialogue, that back and forth, back and forth. A station, comms shack, reported manned and ready, that was replied back, and then the log keeper in the back piped out his own response to it, then on and on. Engineering reported a problem here, a problem there - fuel line 3-A failed pressurization test, rerouting through 3-B secondary line, pressurization test sat, and on and on. With every report, he acknowledged it as well. Powhatan reported they were clear and standing by should any issues arise, while the Eryri was already well clear of the whole field on the last run out to Tijuana.

Waiting, waiting…all the reports and things flowed and moved, repeat-backs and say-agains interrupting the motion on occasion, but altogether the internal comms circuits were working as intended. Booth breathed out a good, happy enough sigh at it, though his own circuit was off and the whole of the bridge could not hear. If there was anything that would’ve complicated things, it would be failures in communications. As it stood, things were going well.

“All stations manned and ready, my board is green.”

“Very well.” Clicking the circuit board before him, on that angled console, he opened up a line to Powhatan. “Powhatan, this is Endeavor. I am commencing my engine run. Stand by for effect.”

“Endeavor, this is Powhatan. I copy. Standing by.”

Clicking it off, Booth looked up to the bridge and his Operations Officer. A wry smile came to his face, the thrill of bringing a ship alive and well finally catching up with him. It felt like the moment one started their first ship up, the anticipations of feelings the ship in motion a good bit of joy. “You may commence engine light-off.”

“Commence engine light-off, aye! Engineering, bridge, initiate primary drive, initiate primary drum.”

“Engineering copies.”

More of a pause. More of waiting. The tension seemed to fill the air, at least to Booth. One hand gripped the side of the console, the hand-bar there, the suit too bulky to allow for any sort of fidgeting. The helmsmen stood at their station, doubtless in their own closed circuit and talking about something or another elsewhere, while Conning Officer stood beside them. The log keeper waited, paused.

“Drum reports movement, sir.”

“Drum movement, aye!”

“Bridge, this is Engineering. Primary drive, primary drum online.”

Booth let out a long, long exhale, chuckling finally at the end. Clicking onto the line, he acknowledged it before turning to the rest of the bridge crew. “Alright, let’s start our run. Conn, give me five knots.”

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Operation Have Sea