“She’s magnificent, sir,” he said, and meant it. “How well does she handle?”
“Like a wallowing pig,” Smith said. “There aren’t many real improvements we could make to the drives without tearing the whole rear section apart and replacing them completely.”
The shuttle altered course, allowing him to see every last detail of the carrier’s hull. James had to admit that she looked good, if crude. She might have been in the reserves, but her crew hadn't been allowed to slack off… even if they had felt they’d been exiled to the ass end of nowhere. He felt an odd flicker of admiration for Smith. The man might have a reputation for drinking, yet he'd managed to keep his command in shape.
Smith keyed his terminal as the shuttle straightened out and headed towards the shuttlebay. “I’m calling the senior crew to the shuttlebay,” he said, by way of explanation. “There won’t be a formal welcoming party, I’m afraid, but I’ll introduce you to the senior officers. You can meet the others later, once we’re more organised.”
“Yes, sir,” James said. There were senior officers who would be furious if the formalities were ignored, but he saw Smith’s point. Ark Royal’s reserve crew didn't have the manpower to put on a display. He swallowed again as he realised the depth of his own ignorance. Ark Royal’s crew knew far more than him about their starship’s condition. “I look forward to it.”
Smith smiled. The shuttle landed — there was a faint shiver as the shuttle’s artificial gravity field merged with the starship’s internal field — and the hatch hissed open. James rose to his feet and followed Smith out of the hatch and into the shuttlebay, looking around with considerable interest. The shuttlebay looked as crude as the starship’s interior, but it was clearly kept in good shape. Two more shuttles, both partly cannibalised for spare parts, sat on the other side of the giant compartment. They looked oddly pitiful to James’s eyes.
It took him a moment to realise that something was missing… and several more moments to realise what it was. The omnipresent background noise from the starship’s drives was simply absent. James felt his eyes narrow, then realised that most of the drives and their fusion cores would have been shut down while the starship remained in the reserves. There was no point in placing further wear and tear on equipment that was effectively irreplaceable.
They stepped through the airlock and into the welcoming lounge. James saluted the flag, then straightened automatically as he saw four officers waiting for them. All four of them looked alarmingly dishevelled, as if they’d only just climbed out of their bunks. They didn't seem to have much pride in themselves, he realised grimly, and yet there was something about them that kept him from dismissing them automatically. He couldn't place his finger on it.
“Welcome aboard,” Smith said. “Commander Fitzwilliam, please allow me to introduce Alan Anderson, Chief Engineer, Lieutenant Daniel Lightbridge, Helmsman, Lieutenant Commander Keith Farley, Tactical Officer and Midshipwoman Janelle Lopez.”
There was a long moment as they exchanged salutes. James studied them, silently promising to read their files as soon as possible. Anderson looked tough; his left arm had been replaced with a metallic prosthetic that made no attempt to pass for natural flesh and blood. Like most senior engineering crew, James knew, he would have spent most of his career on Ark Royal, working his way up the ranks to Chief Engineer. Chances were that he wouldn't have a hope of another posting, even if Ark Royal were to be permanently decommissioned. His experience would be years out of date.
Lightbridge was a tall black man, his bald head gleaming in the cold light from overhead. He held himself so still that it seemed almost unnatural, although there was a hint of easy competence in his stance. All helmsmen, at least in James’s experience, resented not being starfighter pilots and tended to put their ships through exaggerated manoeuvres purely to prove they could. Ark Royal probably wouldn't be able to tolerate it, he guessed, making another mental note to check the files. Just who had Lightbridge pissed off to be posted to the ancient carrier?
Keith Farley, by contrast, seemed permanently uncertain of his capabilities. The name was oddly familiar, but it took James several moments to remember a naval bulletin that had named and shamed an officer who’d managed to ram an asteroid, a feat that should have been impossible. No doubt part of the story had been missing, he decided, as he eyed Farley carefully. He should have been kicked out of the navy if he'd actually rammed an asteroid.
Midshipwomen Lopez was a surprise. She was tall and slim, with a dark complexion and long dark hair that fell down her back. Naval uniforms were far from flattering, but James couldn't help noticing the swell of her breasts and the shape of her hips. What was she doing on the ship? James wondered, sourly, if she was having a relationship with one of the other crewmen. Being assigned to Ark Royal was career death, to all intents and purposes. The thought made him scowl, bitterly. His own career might have been killed… and he'd done it to himself.
“You can meet everyone formally later,” Smith said. He raised his voice, addressing his officers. “Briefing Room A, ten minutes.”
James nodded and followed Smith through the starship’s interior. The corridors were bare; every few metres, a hatch lay open, revealing the starship’s innards. James cringed, remembering just what his first CO had said when a hatch had been left open accidentally, then realised that Ark Royal’s crew didn't have much choice. There was so much to do and so few of them to actually do it. He was mildly surprised that there was no dust in the corridors; indeed, it seemed that the whole ship was surprisingly clean.
He paused as he heard a dull rumble echoing through the ship. “What was that?”
“Test cycle for Fusion Five,” Smith said. “We test one of the six fusion cores each day, just to make sure that they are still operational. Losing one of them would be irritating.”
“More than irritating,” James said, recalling his earlier thoughts. “Could they be replaced, if necessary?”
“We’d have to have the cores built specially for Ark Royal,” Smith said. He smirked, as if something amusing had just struck him. “Not the only such problem, of course. We couldn't get the different generations of computer cores to work together, no matter what the manufacturer claimed. In the end, we had to splice in a Chinese system we scrounged up from somewhere, just to provide a bridging system. If we have to replace the cores, we can probably improve on the design and cut out half of the cost.”
James stared at him. “You have a Chinese computer system attached to the ship?”
“Among others,” Smith said. He seemed to be enjoying James’s discomfort. “As I told you, we’ve had to improvise.”
Briefing Room A looked as though it had been reassuringly normal, once. A large table sat in the middle of the compartment, surrounded by chairs… half of which were piled high with boxes. Judging by the markings, James decided, Smith and his crew had laid claim to thousands of outdated spare parts that would otherwise have been sold to civilians or simply discarded for scrap. Probably the former, he told himself, after a moment. Even outdated military surplus would be useful for civilian starship crews.
“Find a seat,” Smith said. “We’ll start in a moment.”
James hesitated, then took one of the handful of empty seats and watched as Midshipwoman Lopez entered, carrying a tray of mugs. There was a large bottle beside the mugs, he noticed as she put the tray down on the table, but it was completely unmarked. If it came from a still on Ark Royal — technically against regulations, yet he’d never served on a ship that didn't have a still — it might well be very strong indeed.