Page 152 of Pets in Space 10
Lynx answered. “Each container has a specific location within the barrier designed for maximum security to the platform components and ease of access to the construction equipment. We cannot have containers piling up in random order. Too much risk of damage or loss.”
Adele tried to keep the sharpness from her tone. “This is why SkyHigh’s agreement to the new protocol is provisional. Miguel and Lynx spent four sevendays designing the order and configuration for the planet drops using flyers. Recasting that overnight is problematic.”
The commander’s lips tightened. “The flyers and DOP-C are critical to the Nightingale’s mission. Every bell a flyer or the DOP-C is shuttling your equipment adds risk to our mission.”
Vistrite is the most important aspect of your mission.
The tart retort died on her tongue. Lochan was part of the command crew that held off the despoiler fleet for one very long day before the armada arrived.
Debating him over relative risk was self-defeating.
“Let us see what Lynx and Miguel can devise.”
Speculation flashed in his eyes, before his expression returned to polite detachment. “Are you ready to begin your briefing?”
At her nod, he stepped aside. She was at the door before a thought struck. “I thought this could carry passengers.”
Lynx tapped a panel near the pilot’s console. “Seats in here. Up to four, but see, more attachment points so we can use the area when the seats are retracted.”
***
Lochan kept silent as Adele explained the cargo protocols.
She had tried to mask her irritation, but it was obvious she was displeased by the change in plans.
His initial reaction, that she was being cavalier with the Nightingale’s resources, faded as he grasped the complexity of the transport protocols.
Her team had calculated to the ounce how to maximize flyer capacity while dropping the containers in a precise order.
He wondered how many optimization analyses were required to reduce the number of flyers and trips to fit the three-day window.
He also found his gaze and thoughts straying to her stunning form, clad in engineer’s coveralls.
Even the lumps from the various pockets could not hide her sleek lines.
Her cropped honey-brown locks were disheveled from her fingers running through as she spoke.
Her angular features were arresting rather than pretty, but it was her passion for her work and the sharp intelligence in her gray-green eyes that caught his attention. She was fascinating.
“Until we have a successful drop with the DOP-C, we cannot finalize the load-balancing. Nightingale flyer pilots originally scheduled for tomorrow should remain prepared to report.” She paused by the reviewer. “Questions?”
The pilots made sounds or gestures of denial. From their perspectives, the protocols were simple enough.
Lochan cleared his throat. “The Nightingale flyers have been reassigned for tomorrow. There is a contingency allotment on Fifth Day, if they are needed.”
Gold fire flared in her hazel eyes and her lips tightened. “Commander Lochan, I cannot. SkyHigh cannot—”
“Adele.” The wiry engineer leapt from the DOP-C. “Can you break for a moment? Lynx and I think we have it solved.”
The blonde mechanic stood up. “Go. I can start loading the flyers.”
Collapsing the small laser pointer into her utility tool, Adele returned it to one of the coverall’s pockets. She shot Lochan a pointed look. “Load the Nightingale flyers first. If the DOP-C works, we will not need the flyers again today. We should minimize the use of those resources.”
With more energy than needed, she shouldered her gear bag. Lochan pressed his lips against a smile. Even when yielding, the woman was blade-sharp.
***
Adele bit her lips against frustration. They had not made a single drop, and they were already off protocol and behind schedule.
With all four SkyHigh team members loading the flyers, it would require a period and a half.
With only Robyn . . . She cut off that train of thought.
Right now, she needed to focus on loading the DOP-C.
Miguel stood back to allow her to enter the craft.
It might be suitable for four seated passengers, but it was tight for three people working in the cargo area.
Lynx handed her his slate. “This craft is designed to optimize cargo loads. We do not need to do much reconfiguration of our planned lots.”
The adjustments to fit the containers into the different dimensions were minor.
The flight-suited woman had followed and peered over Adele’s shoulder. “This could be more efficient and allow for another container. Maybe two.”
The Nightingale crew might be galactic heroes, but Adele had reached her limit.
“Were you not listening during the briefing? The containers were organized not only to maximize efficient transport, but in a precise order that is paramount for construction. It required sevendays of analysis. We cannot reconfigure the entire cargo in seven bells. The best we can do is take four defined lots and strap them into this contraption.”
The woman huffed. “I though you would like to know that if you need to squeeze in more cargo or make space for a passenger it can be done as long as total weight remains within tolerance.”
Lynx retrieved his slate, turning a sun-bright smile on the woman. “It is marvelous to know that. In fact, without your earlier guidance, we could not have found a solution so quickly.”
Adele felt like a slug. Lynx was right. The pilot was being helpful. It was not her fault Adele wanted to throttle the security officer. “Please forgive my sharp words. It is useful information.”
Mollified, the woman nodded. “No harm.”
“If you will excuse us, Lynx, Miguel and I are needed to load the flyers. We will return to assist with the DOP-C in about a bell.”
The pilot smiled at Lynx. “If you send that schematic to the console, I will get the nets anchored.”
***
Raleigh and Bran looked up at Lochan’s entrance to the captain’s study, both men setting aside their slates.
The Nightingale’s first officer was both the captain’s friend and business partner.
Although Lochan had doubted the two free-traders’ loyalty when they replaced their corrupt predecessors, he had come to respect both officers.
A fit man nearing fifty, Bran had unkempt sandy hair that, along with his casual manners, gave the impression of inadequate discipline. An impression that was contradicted by the piercing intelligence in his amber eyes. “How did SkyHigh take the protocol changes?”
“Grudgingly,” Lochan said, dropping into a chair. “Although, now that I have witnessed the precision of their protocols, I can understand. It was countless periods of advanced analysis to configure the cargo to fit into the flyers in a precise order.”
“Precise order?”
“It is almost military. The excavation and construction materials and equipment are being dropped first, creating a second layer of protection inside the security barriers. The most fragile and last-to-be-used components will be at the center of the storage. Once on Deuce, naught moves until needed. They had the drops configured within a few inches and pounds of flyer cargo capacity.”
Raleigh tapped the table and hummed. “Well considered. Particularly with replacement parts at least two sevendays away.”
Bran’s jaw tightened. “Although it hints at caution bordering on paranoia. Do they know about the sabotage?”
“Not as far as I could tell. Adele’s obsession was with the successful Vortex implementation and supporting the vistrite crevasse.”
“Adele?”
“Those Fortuna engineers are almost as casual in their manners as you free-traders.”
Raleigh gave him a knowing look. “In the visuals she is only passably attractive.”
“The visuals do not do her justice.” Every member of the SkyHigh contingent had been thoroughly vetted with extensive profiles, including images. At the captain’s smirk, Lochan shrugged. “I find her appealing.”
Bran chuckled. “Good. She will be here for at least a month and returning regularly thereafter. Far less complicated than a relationship with a crew member.”
Lochan snorted derision. Bran’s alliance with the lead zoologist was well known. “Adriana?”
Bran shook his head. “She is a senior officer and, in the larger context of the Thirteen Systems, well above me in rank. You are command crew and a warrior.”
Within the Thirteen Systems, passion was considered a pleasant pastime, not to be confused with the serious commerce of merging genetics and wealth in wedlock or consort alliances.
In other circumstances, Lochan could enjoy a casual liaison without repercussions.
But with the Nightingale so isolated, a dalliance with a member of the crew could raise expectations Lochan could not or would not meet. Bad morale would be the least of it.
Nonetheless, he would not have these men misunderstand. “The blonde mechanic with permanent station is as attractive in person as in the visuals. She interests me not. Adele is not a target of convenience.”
Both men gave him blank stares and then smiled. Raleigh said, “Well enough. The important matter is that she has accepted the revisions.”
After being cornered by his friends, Lochan took dark pleasure in replying, “Only provisionally. Mistress Adele reserves the right to insist we honor the original protocols if the DOP-C’s performance does not meet her requirements.”
Sevenday 41, Day 5
Adele nodded approval as Miguel tested the flyer’s constraints around the final load of cargo. With a satisfied grunt, he stepped back. “Those free-traders should sell their net-constraints for use on flyers.”
Backing out of the flyer, she descended to the spear’s deck. “I admit, the DOP-C performed as promised. With Nightingale unable to land on the planets, they must be invaluable to Raleigh and Bright Star.”